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“Kent,” I say through a big mouthful of my ridiculously fresh and flavorful fish burger. Did I even like fish burgers before? “This place is freakin’ amazing.”
Kent has got fries in his mouth. Let’s face it: half our conversation is happening around food stuffed in our mouths, and we don’t give a fishy fuck. “I know.”
“You probably have this food all the time, and … well, or maybe you don’t, considering that body of yours … but I feel like my mouth just won the taste lottery right now.”
He chuckles. “I don’t know what it is about my family. We have great metabolism or something. But it’ll wear off by the time I’m thirty, if my older brother’s any indication. Better enjoy all I can eat now before nature takes over.”
I pop in the last bite of my burger, suppress a moan of delight, then catch Kent staring at me from across the table. I frown. “Am I being gross? The way I just basically made out with my fish burger in front of you? Yeah, you’re changing your mind about spending tonight with me, I can see it in your eyes.”
Kent shakes his head. “Nah. Was just thinking about things. Lost in thoughts.”
I take a sip of my drink, then nod at him. “What’s on your mind?”
“The usual.” Kent shrugs and crosses his arms on the table, then picks at a splinter in the wood. “Life. The way things are. People. Human nature. Greed. Blah, blah.”
I quirk an eyebrow. “Damn. Those are deep thoughts.”
“I have a hard time staying in the moment sometimes. I know, I know. I should be with you, happy, enjoying all of this. But I can’t help but feel like …” He sighs.
“Feel like what?”
“Like it’s just fated to end anyway. I know it’s only Saturday night, but … Monday will be around the corner before we know it, and then what the hell am I gonna do? You’ll be back in Houston. I’ll be a memory.”
I frown. “Hey, hey.”
“Maybe my brother’s right. Maybe your friend Rico, too. Maybe they have the right idea and … we should just be having fun, covering our nipples in whipped cream, and fucking like bunnies.”
“Does that sound like us?”
Kent snorts. “No.”
“Is that all you want out of this? A cheap fuck?”
“Nope.”
“So why worry? There’s clearly something happening between us. Neither of us has run off yet, so we obviously aren’t in it for the fuck. I’m not my friend, and you’re not your brother.”
Kent studies me as I talk. His face warms. “No, we’re clearly not.”
“And that’s what I like about you. We don’t even have to do anything if you don’t want.”
He tilts his head. “Do anything …?”
“I mean I can keep it in my pants if you want to keep it in yours. I’m perfectly capable of behaving.”
“Behaving …?”
“I’m just saying: remove all pressure. There’s no time limits. There’s no expectations. There’s just whatever we want to do, and whatever we feel. Fuck everything else.”
Kent considers me. Then he smiles and sits back.
“What?” I ask. Obviously gears are turning in his head, but I can’t tell which ones. “Did I say something?”
“Yeah, you did.”
“What did I say?”
“Everything.” He lifts a hand, flagging the waitress for the check.
Everything, he says.
What did I say …?
The mystique behind his peculiar reaction follows me all the way from the Desert Moon Diner back to his house just a little bit down the road. Unlike last night, we find his place completely silent and empty.
“Guess my brother is with his friends tonight,” notes Kent as he heads across the cluttered living room. “I’ll get my guitar.” Then he disappears into his bedroom.
I slowly wander around the room, stopping at the end of the short wall that divides the living room from the kitchen, which is dark and quiet, just a peek of moonlight coming in through one of its windows. Out the window, I see where the bonfire was last night. Tonight, no one’s out there, and only the very faint noise of distant waves can be heard through a cracked-open window.
Suddenly I’m nervous. Where are my nerves coming from? Oh, right, the whole “I’m in Kent’s house” thing. That’s kind of a no-brainer. I let out an anxious sigh and resist drumming my hands on something.
I very suddenly remember the mint I pocketed from a bowl by the exit of the Desert Moon Diner. I fish it out, tear off the paper, and pop it into my mouth. Spearmint explodes over my tongue.
Am I thinking about kissing him now? Is that why I’ve got all of these feelings bouncing around inside of me?
I feel like I’m in high school again, getting ready for a first date.
This isn’t usually a feeling I have after grappling with a guy’s balls at the top of a cliff by a lighthouse. Haven’t we already been to second base? Or third? Or whatever the hell that is? I’ve never been good with baseball terms.
