He nuzzles his face into my neck and gives me a couple of humps through the sheets and my clothes. “No. Don’t go.”

“I have to.”

“I wanna fuck some more.”

I laugh. He’s all groggy and uncoordinated—aside from the hip grinding. That’s very coordinated. “I called a cab. I have to leave, like, two minutes ago.”

“I’ll drive you in.”

“You’re not even conscious.”

“My dick is. He’ll drive.”

I push on his chest, but he’s not budging. “If I’m late I could lose my job.”

He stops grinding and rolls off me. “Now I have to deal with this alone.” He pats his hard-on.

“Just go back to sleep; it’ll go away.”

“What time are you done?”

“One, but I work a shift at my other job at four.”

“I’ll come get you.”

“Don’t you need to go back to Chicago?”

“I’ll fly or something.” He shoves his hand down the front of his boxers. “See you at one, luscious Lily.”

“Whatever you say, raucous Randy.” I turn to leave.

“Wait.”

“Hmm?”

He taps his cheek lazily. “I wanna kiss before you leave.”

I lean over and plant one there, then drop another on his lips. “Thanks for all the fun.”

“Anytime.”

***

Since he was half-asleep when I left this morning, I don’t really expect him to show up at my work. So when he arrives at eleven-thirty with coffee and a bag and sits in the stands, all the butterflies in the world take up residence in my stomach.

We had an insane amount of sex. I’ve never in my life used an entire box of condoms in one night. Three, maybe, but never more than that. All my muscles ache, but the pain isn’t something I mind.

At the end of the lesson, I skate over to Randy. He looks fresh, cleaned up, and a whole lot less disheveled than I did this morning. “I brought you something.” He passes me the bag.

I take a peek inside. “You bought me clothes?”

“I figure we only have a couple of hours before you have to go to work, and you’d want something fresh to change into. I guessed at the size. I know your dress was a four at the party.” He jams his hands into his pockets.

A guy remembering a dress size seems epic. “That’s sweet, but you didn’t need to do that. I have my work clothes. I was going to change into them.”

“Well, I thought I could take you out for lunch, since that didn’t happen yesterday.”

“You don’t want to go back to your hotel?” I’m sort of being cheeky, sort of not.

“I had to check out.” He rolls back on his heels. “The backseat of the Jeep is spacious, though.”

I can’t tell if he’s being serious. One of the parents comes over to ask me a couple of questions, and of course, another mother recognizes Randy and starts freaking out. She’s got to be almost forty, and she’s definitely undressing him mentally. I know the look. Lucky for me I don’t have to work to imagine him without clothes. Well, except for one part.

I head to the locker room, shower, and put on the new clothes. He’s good at guessing. He’s also got expensive taste. A pair of gray leggings, a pretty shirt dress in royal blue, and a new pair of very lacy, very delicate panties cost over a hundred and fifty dollars, according to the price tags. The receipt isn’t in the bag, so there’s no way to return them.

Randy takes me to a nice restaurant. Everything is expensive. Benji and I didn’t go out on dates very often. If we did it was to see some local hipster band. He’d eat sweet potato fries and complain about his parents not putting enough money in his bank account. It was annoying, but he always paid for me, so I never said anything. He liked to hold things like that over my head so I’d feel like I owed him something. He also liked to manipulate by digging at my insecurities. It set us up for inequity, and that doesn’t work for me. I don’t think it works for anyone.

Randy just seems to want to go out for a nice lunch. He gets a beer, and I get a glass of wine even though I have to work in a few hours. I’m starving, making lunch that much more amazing. Probably because of all the sex.

We get dessert, and not to share because I want my own and so does Randy.

“You work a lot, huh?” he says as he shovels a mouthful of peach pie into his mouth. His dessert choice is ironic.

I got the fried banana and ice cream. Also ironic.

“Yeah. I finished school in April. I’d like to work on a masters in physiotherapy, but the program’s expensive, so I need to save for a while. I’ve worked at the coffee shop since high school. There aren’t any full-time skating-coach positions unless I move to the city, so I do both for now.”

“A masters, huh? So you’re smart.”

I shake my head. “Not really. I mean, I guess for science and stuff I’m decent. I had to work hard to keep my scholarship. School wasn’t a breeze or anything.”

“So do you have a place close by? We have more than an hour before you have to go to work.” He’s got that look on his face.

Right now, more than ever, I wish I had my own apartment. Or one I shared with Sunny so I could take him back there for one last sex-and-orgasm marathon before I have to go to work and he has to leave for Chicago.

“I, uh… um… I don’t live on my own.”