Paol drives to a spot he knows near the river where there’s a gravel drive and a few picnic tables surrounded by trees—a place where they won’t be disturbed. He reminds himself he won’t get all freaky on the first go…didn’t he say that? But damn if Adam didn’t waylay him at the stoplight. Though Paol had set him up for it, he never saw it coming. Now he hasn’t even zipped up his jeans yet because he’s expecting more.
What happened to keeping it professional between them? That went out the window long ago.
He pulls up the parking brake and cuts off the engine. The song on the radio fades, leaving behind the steady sound of cicadas and, beyond the open windows, the rush of the river over the rocks. A bullfrog croaks to another on the bank somewhere out there in the night. A faint sporadic
