Chapter 1: Blind Dates

"Hi, Edward!" my date waves at me from several feet away. She leans over, probably to stare at a crab trapped in the tidal pool.

I look away and a hollow feeling washes over me.

I wish I was blind.

She's pretty. But I'm uninterested. And I'm sick of her hints and trying to constantly get me to touch her or look down her shirt.

Emmett flirts with his date.

Why can't I do that?

I look back over at Haley, but void fills my heart.

With a few hops on the rocks, I'm further out.

Waves crash below my feet, and before I can even think about what I'm doing, I dive in.

Shhhhhhhhuuuuuuhhhhh, shhhhhuuuuhhhhh . . .

The waves roar in my ears, and consume all my thoughts of inadequacy, washing away my desire to be something other than me.

I hold my breath and smile inside, as seaweed brushes against my legs.

When I finally bob to the surface, my date and Emmett's are screaming at him to save me.

It was a two foot drop; it's not like I went cliff diving. Besides, the waves aren't strong enough to bash my skull into the rocks. So what are they worried about?

I dart around the rocks; swim ashore a few feet away.

Haley's incessant shrieking makes my ears shut off completely and my eyes glaze over.

"Oh my God, Edward! Are you okay? You're not wearing swim trunks. Did you fall in?" Haley crows.

I look at her, expressionless. "I'm fine. I love the ocean; thought I'd go for a swim is all." I shrug.

A few minutes later, after she's calmed down and touched my arm several times, I stand next to her, above the tidal pool as I drip dry, and feel as trapped as the mollusks around me.

Only they can hide in the cracks and crevices when she frightens them. Lucky bastards.

I'm exposed.

My date, Haley, is trying to show off, attract my attention by using big words while she digs out little hermit crabs and shows them to me.

I smile in all the right moments; reply when needed.

I die inside each moment.

My head is cloudy, and not in a good way.

"No! Stop . . . not that!" Cheryl, Haley's friend, and Emmett's date, squeals.

Emmett chases her on the beach, threatening her with a sea cucumber and makes obnoxious noises, pretending to be a ventriloquist.

I smile and roll my eyes.

Haley smiles at me and tries harder to get my attention, pointing out a few more sea creatures.

I'm numb, inside and out. I watch, unseeing. I breathe, but it's painful, because my chest is filled with a longing to be anywhere but here.

"Are your feet freezing yet?" She smiles, but her eyes are unaffected. The disingenuous way she giggles sets my teeth on edge. I can feel a headache coming on. I shove my hands in my pockets so I can ball them up without her noticing.

"Nah, they're fine. I surf all the time with Emmett, so we're kind of used to the chilly water," I say.

"I've heard that you do it every weekend. I'd love to come watch you sometime," she responds.

"You should join us. It's boring to watch, but a huge rush to actually ride the wave. Have you ever been?" I already know the answer before she says it.

"No way! I'm too afraid of being that deep in the ocean. What about sharks and—"

I stop listening to her and tune into the white noise of the surf. She just killed any tiny shred I had left of being even a tiny bit interested in her.

"Hey, bro, I need to go! I've gotta be somewhere tonight, and it's gonna be an hour drive in this traffic to get home!" Emmett calls.

Liar; you've got nowhere to be. You're just ready to get her naked and in your bed. I nod.

"You ready?" I ask Haley.

Her face falls. She wanted to stay here and be with me longer, even though I've been barely paying any attention to her?

"Sure," she says.

She stares into my eyes, and looks crestfallen.

We walk to Emmett's Jeep, and the drive home is awkward; I fidget in the backseat while keeping plenty of space between myself and my date.

Emmett tries to joke and entertain.

I mostly keep my eyes focused on the scenery out the window.

When we drop Haley off at her apartment first, I try not to groan as I walk her up to her door.

"See you at school?" she asks, head bent and looking up at me through her lashes. Her arms wrap around her stomach and create some cleavage.

"Yeah. I'm sure I'll see you there," I reply.

"Okay, thanks for inviting me today. I had a great time." She smiles, but it's halfhearted.

I didn't invite her. Emmett invited Cheryl, and she invited Haley.

"Good, I'm glad. Have a good night." I wave, tuck my hands in my pockets, turn around and leave.

I hear her door open and close behind me. My pace quickens.

I drop myself back into Emmett's Jeep. The next few minutes are silent as we drive back to our apartment building.

Once there, he tells his date to go ahead and let herself into his place and he'll be there in a few minutes.

Cheryl smiles at him and does as he asks.

When she's out of hearing distance, he turns to me.

"Dude, what the hell? Haley's hot! You want me to call her? I'll go back to her place and get her. She's totally into you."

I put my palm in the air, making a stop gesture and wave it around, signaling I'm not interested with an accompanied shaking head.

"Why're you sulking like a pussy? Did you get stung by a jellyfish or somethin'?" His whole face wrinkles in confusion.

"Nah, man, that's not it. I'm not interested in her. I'd rather go home and work on some of my school projects," I say.

"Whatever. I don't get you. How many girls from school are you gonna turn down? Is there something wrong with you I should know about? You got a disease?"

I wrinkle my nose. "Nothing's wrong. She's not my type. No big deal." I shove my hands in my pockets once more and shrug.

"Not your type?" he scoffs. "She's every guy's type. She's cool. You're too damn picky—that's what your problem is." He shoves me in the shoulder, rolls his eyes at me, chuckling, and then lopes toward his apartment.

When he's gone, I let out a gust of air and my shoulders crash down to where they're supposed to be—rather than being earmuffs.

"Shit. I suck at this," I mutter and amble back to my place; alone.

.

.

.

"Hey, doofus, Cheryl and I were thinking about inviting Haley over to watch a movie with us. We want you to join us," Emmett says.

"I'm at the store. I can't talk right now," I say, annoyed. He knows I try not to be one of those distracted people in a store on their phone, yet he won't shut up. I've been telling him for five minutes now I've gotta go.

"What is it gonna take to get you interested in a girl? Does she need a pocket calculator and an extensive vocabulary in binary computer language?" He snorts and then chuckles.

"It would help. You know me—if there's nothing going on above their shoulders, then there's nothing going on with me below the belt line." I pull out my wallet while I stand in line.

"I'll just tell Haley you're gay; it'll be easier." He hangs up abruptly.

"Thanks, man. Appreciate it," I murmur, staring at my phone and then put it away.

I pay for my food, and when I get outside . . .

Pssssshhhhhhhhfffffff . . .

It's pouring rain.

Awww . . . Seriously? I walked. Didn't want to balance grocery bags on my handle bars.

Stupid weather. I took too long in the store and the storm I figured I'd beat, rolled in before I finished.

I bend my head to the side and look past the store's eave. The sky is an angry gray. I drop my head and curse under my breath.

Maybe I can wait it out?

I take a few steps away from the curb.

This is why my parents keep hounding me and pressing to give me more money and a car. I constantly refuse; I like to make my own way. My bike's fine. Walking's fine. Or usually is.

I consider calling Emmett back, asking him to come get me and give me a ride. I've got six bags of groceries here with me. Maybe I can suffer through him forcing that girl on me again in exchange for a life.

Haley wasn't that bad . . .

Yes, she was.

I lean up against the wall right next to the exit of the store, staying out of the way of patrons leaving. I'm resigned to wait.

I can't stomach anymore of Emmett's matchmaking.

The eave protects me from the torrential pouring rain, and I'm not in a hurry to get home.

I find a spot that keeps me conspicuous enough, so it's clear I'm merely biding my time, waiting for the weather to get better. I don't wanna look like some crazy loitering guy or some kind of stalker after somebody working in the store.

I look around to see if there's a bus anywhere in sight. But then I remember I spent all of my cash in the store.

I prop myself up against the wall and set my groceries down.

While I'm considering I might be standing here a long time since the entire sky is growing more tumultuous by the second, a gorgeous woman with luminous dark eyes and long, straight sienna hair, steps out of the store.

I stand straighter and lean a little toward her. My eyes widen ever so slightly as they roam over her body.

Fuck. The way she moves . . . It's like every sex fantasy I've had, sprouted legs and decided to go for a stroll in the grocery store I frequent.

She's oblivious to me watching her; she smiles when she observes the weather.

She's thrilled by this apocalyptic storm? This wind is crazy. I chuckle at the back of my throat, cross my arms and pay even closer attention to her every move.

She pushes a cart slowly and then stops for a moment to chat on her phone. I can't take my eyes off of her. I try not to listen to her conversation, but she's close enough I can't block it out.

"Oh, sweetie, I'm so glad you're having fun. I feel like I haven't seen you inages . . . I can't wait to see you again!"

My stomach drops.

Taken! Oh God.

My palms sweat as my mind races.

Say something to her.

What? Fuck no!

I try to look away, but it's like my neck forgot how to work. My eyes stay trained on her while my spine stays rigid.

Maybe I'm misunderstanding. Maybe she's not taken?

Of course she's taken, you dope. A woman that beautiful and powerful? Look at her. Her posture and the way she merely stands there; she exudes nothing but passion and control.

She brushes her long dark, shiny hair behind her shoulder and then tucks a few strands behind her ear. A second later, she looks over and smiles at me. I manage to smile back even though my face feels like it's made of stone.

Her reaction to me is very comfortable, and confident as hell.

A fire rushes through me, and lands in my gut.

She gives a tiny wave and goes back to her phone call, but looks over in my direction every few minutes. It seems like she doesn't give a fuck if some college guy is hard as hell and ogling her.

And that in itself, is a huge turn on.

I release a tight breath and push my shoulders back harder into the wall behind me.

She sits down on a concrete bench, the eave giving her some protection from the raging storm, but the wind's probably hitting her legs. Her conversation continues to flow. She props an elbow behind her and leans her body back. Her dark blue tank top lifts a little bit at the hem, showing a portion of her tight abs. Oh fuck! This woman has a slamming body. She crosses one leg over the other; her white linen shorts rise slightly, and I get a good view of her toned hamstring as well.

My mouth waters at her curves; I can't escape them. They're everywhere. She's wearing some black strappy heels that make her long slinky legs flex deliciously at me; it almost chokes the breath out of me.

"I miss you too. Give yourself a big hug and kiss for me." She smiles. Her face lights up, and a little laugh courses through her.

I've never heard anything more beautiful. She continues her conversation, and I stop listening as she pulls her tank top down, because her black lacy bra is poking out the top. God, I can't stop staring. Those big, round beautiful breasts are taunting me.

She sits up for a second and wipes her brow and neck with the back of her hand as a little bit of splash-back from the rain hits her. After a few more nods of her head and sparse acknowledgments to whoever she's talking to on the phone, she pushes herself up onto her hand and uncrosses her legs. She's propped up to a forty five degree angle when she lets go of the bench then reaches back behind her and pushes her hair up off of her neck.

Jesus! With the way she's leaning back and her abs curved like that—my mind starts to wander, and I can't help but imagine being on top of her, pulling that shirt off, feeling those tits in my hands. My dick agrees—yeah, do that!

"Good night, baby." She sighs, sounding like she's in heaven. After shaking her hair out a little, she pushes herself completely upright and slides to the edge of the bench.

Her arms are shapely, her back is arching and her shirt puckers behind her. How am I still standing here? I can barely make out a white thong under her shorts, and I've lost the ability to close my mouth.

I don't know this woman, but my groin is begging me to get to know her intimately before it beats me over the head. She tucks her phone away and pauses for a moment. It looks like she's reflecting about the person she was talking to. Dammit. Why does she have to be taken? How many girls at school ask me out and act interested, and I don't give a fuck? I finally find a woman that piques my interest, and she's unavailable.

My knees lock.

She's smiles to herself, and hell, my dick likes that too. What the fuck is wrong with me? I keep staring at her like I want to . . . I'm sure she already knows exactly what I want to do with her. My body's been pretty fucking clear.

I clear my throat. I've gotta say something to her. My stomach fists itself, warring with my dick apparently. My body's going in opposite directions. Ready to puke from nerves, and ready to come, and the latter's based on merely looking at this woman.

I don't want to disturb her but I know my time is limited before she leaves, so I approach her. "Excuse me, Miss?"

"Yes?" she responds with a shiny smile that knocks me back a step.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but I walked to this store, and as you can see it's pouring. I only live two blocks from here. Is there any way I can bum a ride from you? I'll give you some money for gas as soon as I get to my place. I would've caught the bus or a cab, but I used all my cash in the grocery store."

She puckers her lips for a second, her eyes walk over my body and then she says, "Of course. Nobody should walk in this weather." It sounds like she's teasing me, almost calling me a wimp.

She grabs my bicep and pulls me over to her cart. "Put your groceries in my basket, and I'll load them into my car. Wait here."

My eyes travel to my arm where she touched me. The skin there tingles, but somehow, in a daze, I place my groceries quickly in with hers. When I'm done, I look for her out in the parking lot. It's difficult to focus. My head is foggy.

How the hell did she do that to me with one touch?

I spot her, and she appears to be completely unconcerned about the weather, even though it's obvious she spends a lot of time on her appearance. I'm baffled by this. Haley would've never jumped into that ocean with me today.

But this woman?

Goddamn. I think she would have tossed me in herself before diving in.

I smirk at her in amusement. She's got her hands out, palms up, face to the sky, laughing as the rain pummels her.

Most women would be freaking out about ruining their hairdo or makeup. Not this woman. She's soaked almost instantly. Her shorts are see-through and pasted to her ass, making that thong easy to see.

She walks to her car with a leisurely pace, enjoying this downpour. At one point, she even stops, tilts her head back and extends her tongue to catch some of the moisture.

Fuck if that doesn't make the small amount of blood left in my brain, travel south.

I lean up against the store's column, before I really do fall on my ass. Though, I like the idea she would be the one to put me there.

Wild woman with a zest for life! They don't have women like this at school. I've never, ever seen anything even remotely close to her.

If I had, I'd be home fucking that woman right now, rather than here, buying food. Who needs food with this exotic creature walking around?

She turns, smiles and waves at me, but it's not the way Haley kept doing it today. It's not because she's showing off. She's truly happy, and the woman can't seem to help herself by spreading her joy.

I am left standing with my mouth hanging open and my tongue almost flopping out of my mouth. She heads over to her expensive car after I wave back, and she opens the trunk.

She waves me over. I grab the cart and haul ass. Once I'm next to her, she starts placing the groceries inside. I try to help, but she's too damn quick and when she's done, she unlocks the car and opens the passengers door for me.

I slip inside, and wait for her to join me. But she doesn't. She takes the time to return the grocery cart to it's proper place. While she clutches her purse to her side, she laughs even harder at the weather.

I lean over from inside the car and pop her door open for her.

After she slides in, she turns toward me and sighs. Her eyes sparkle at me, and she doesn't say a damn thing. But she doesn't have to. It's spoken in her expression. She wishes the weather did this every day.

Is there a reason she likes it to be this chaotic and unpredictable?

I smile back. God—I want to know her. Like really know her—every bit.

My chest aches simply inhaling her scent and knowing I'm a lucky son of a bitch to even have these few moments where I'm able to sit next to her.

"Thanks for doing this," I say.

She waits for a second, digs her keys back out and says, "Buckle up. I like to drive fast. And I don't give a damn the street's wet."

Holy shit! My eyes go wide.

She shifts in her seat, all sopping wet, and a waft of the most intoxicating smell I've ever encountered, assaults my senses and travels straight to my already stiff cock. Did the rain intensify her smell? Usually it washes perfume away. Or does she naturally smell like this?

Yeah, she's taken. With a scent like that? Has to be.

I lean toward her in a subtle way and take another whiff. My insides go nuts.

God damn. That shit she's wearing? Whatever it is—makes my teeth line up, ready to take a bite out of her.

Christ. She could turn a rabbit into a raging carnivore.

"We're going to stop by my place first so I can put my groceries away then I'll bring you home."

I can't speak, so I only nod.

"Got a name or should I call you Junior?" Her eyes have a wicked glint in them.

"Junior?" I ask. Where did that come from?

"Well, you're obviously a college kid, and I'm old enough to be your grandma."

My eyebrow rises. My grandma does not look remotely like this!

"Mr. Cullen, and I'm pleased to meet you, Miss . . . ?" I use my last name to sound formal so I can mess with her.

"Mrs. Black."

I search for a ring in vain. There's nothing there. I'm left confused and even more on edge.

She notices my eyes studying her soft, feminine fingers. "Divorced," she informs me as she rounds a corner fast enough to spray down the walkway. She was right; she does like to drive fast.

I don't bother to grip the door frame. I want to lean as close to her as I can so I can lap up that delicious scent. It's addictive.

"I love this weather, don't you?" she asks.

"When I don't have groceries, I love riding in it."

"Horses?"

"No, my bike." I stare at her ring finger again. Divorced? She didn't say she had a boyfriend though . . .

"Motorocycle? Why didn't you drive it to the grocery store instead of walking?"

Before I can answer, she pulls up to her house and parks. It's a beautiful, large, expensive looking home with a perfectly manicured lawn. The front of the house has some red and tan stone work and there's a lot of soft lighting that focuses the eye on particularly nice points of the home. It's very charming and alluring, like her.

"Stay here, I'll be right back," she says as she leaves the car.

I quirk an eyebrow at her. This woman is incredibly trusting or stupid, because she leaves the keys in the ignition. I could steal her Roll's and she doesn't know anything about me except my last name. I don't think she's stupid though. She seems very witty and intelligent. So why did she do that?

I look around her car and glance at her purse she's even left behind. When I peek inside, without touching it at all, I choke on my air. Is that a . . . ? It is. Damn. There's a small silver bullet vibe close to the top, not hidden in the least.

I adjust myself. There's no way I thought I could get harder, but fuck. That did it.

She returns quickly, soaking again and she's all breathy.

"Woooh! I love being this wet," she says as she shifts the gear and drives off aggressively. "So, Cullen, what do you do besides hit on old ladies with their wet thong shoved up their crack?"

I stop breathing, and my heart hammers so hard, it forces some blood back up to my brain. It deafens me for a moment as it travels past my ears. "Well, when I'm not trying to find an excuse to get into their pants, I'm studying at school." I smirk.

"School? How boring," she teases, rolling her eyes dramatically. "And what do you study?

"I'm majoring in computer software engineering."

"Impressive," she says even though her body language is telling me that she's not really impressed at all. "Although you look more like a Calvin Klein model than an egg-head computer guy."

Is she flirting with me? It sure fucking sounds like it. "I like rewiring and short circuiting motherboards. I'm really good with my hands, and the smaller the equipment, the better," I hint.

"You computer guys are all alike. All about your hardware." She chuckles, and it's low and dirty, and God, can I get her naked now?

I squirm in my seat, and the wet fabric, squishes.

"Hardware can only get you so far . . ." Her brow arches and her cheekbone dances right along with it.

I laugh at how witty she is. "You know computer guys?" I wouldn't have pictured her with a boring, cerebral guy. She doesn't strike me as the type that would date a computer nerd. I kind of feel like I'm the exception to the rule. I'm not obsessed with computers, I'm not a nerd, but I'm good at taking things apart, and I'm pretty intuitive with machinery. It was with my mom's encouragement I went this route.

"I know every kind of guy there is to know." She dips her head a little, and goes serious.

She rounds the block and we pass by her house again. Why is she driving around in circles?

You gotta give her directions, rather than try to get her to stroke your ego, you dickhead.

"Cute," I say. "Take a left up here and head out to Hollinger Street then take a right."

"I thought college guys were supposed to be sharp."

"They are until they're in your presence. You make me lose focus," I admit, and I can't believe I'm revealing this so soon. I usually keep my feelings a little more locked up with a girl I'm trying to win over. But then I don't think I've ever wanted a woman this bad. Ever.

When I glance at her, she's relaxed into her seat; doesn't seem to mind I'm being so blunt.

"Good, then I've got some hold on you. I like that," she says.

I grip my seat, to keep from jacking off in front of her.

Her eyes sweep over me. "Relax, I won't bite, unless you ask me to."

My heart is leaping out of my chest and trying to attach to hers.

"The way you talk," I say, shaking my head and grinning. "It's . . . I've never heard a woman talk like this before."

"I don't have time to beat about the bush. I have needs, and if I want them fulfilled then I have to cut to the chase."

I know she can hear me panting at her. I can't stop myself. The echo in this car is not helping me any.

She arrives to the last spot I directed her to, and my heart plummets. I'll be home soon. My eyes trace over her face, trying to remember every last detail—the way her laugh lines crease, the way her dark hair is stuck against her sculpted cheek bones, the way those luscious lips curve into a sultry smile.

She pulls over to the shoulder and gets out of the car. My hands fist tighter into the seat. It's like my body's refusing to let me leave this spot. Is she kicking me out? I haven't told her the rest of the directions to get to my place. Why'd she stop here?

She comes over to my side, and I have no idea what the hell she's doing. She opens the door and shoves me over. "You drive," she says as she slides into my spot.

I maneuver my way over to her wet seat, warmed from her ass. Yep, my tip is wet, and it has nothing to do with rain.

I suck in my bottom lip and moisten it while I try to regain some semblance of a coherent thought.

When I grip the wheel, I realize she's letting me drive her insanely expensive car. I told her I ride a bike. What the hell?

I turn to her. "You sure? I mean, you don't even know if I have a license."

"I'm sure. This way you can talk to me, and I don't have to wait around for you to get your stiff cock out of your brain and give me directions to your house And if you don't have a license, which you very well might not have, since you're just a kid, I'll teach you to drive. We all have to learn some time." She buckles herself up.

Her words. Shit. It stirs my entire body and pounds my blood straight into my dick.

My arms flex, and my thighs almost throb. I twist my fists on the steering wheel.

"Uuuuhhhhuuuu," I take a deep breath, and grip the wheel tighter. I look over at her and she's smirking at me, waiting for me to make a move.

I shift the gear gingerly and check my blind spot then reposition the mirrors. The car lurches forward the moment I touch the gas.

"Shit! Powerful," I whisper.

"Like me," she teases.

"Yes, like you." I agree completely. Fast, powerful, sexy and straight to the point.

I decide to take the roundabout, scenic route to my place, so I can buy more time with her.

"What do you do Mrs. Black?" I wish I didn't have to call her Mrs. She is single, but that's basically what she said to call her. It makes her sound so unavailable. Is that why she chose to introduce herself that way? Trying to tell me she's not interested and to back off?

"I'm an acupuncturist, an acupressurist and I'm also a licensed massage therapist."

I knew those hands could do some seriously unearthly things to my body. My left leg presses into my right, trying to cut off some of this insane blood flow to my cock. I can't take much more.

"Do you enjoy it?" I ask.

"I love it. I Iove helping people feel better. It's very fulfilling." Her hands go behind her back, and she pulls her wet hair up and over the head rest.

"That's probably why you're so good at it," I reply.

"You have no fucking idea if I'm good at it or not. Don't make assumptions."

I swallow. "I apologize, but I'm good at reading people, and since you love what you do, I can't imagine you not giving it all you've got. You strike me as a passionate person, immersing yourself into whatever you enjoy."

"God, how did you do that?"

"Do what?" Did I hit a nerve? How? I toss a questioning look her way.

"You described me to a fault. I'm very passionate, and I'm very focused. If I enjoy something then nothing stands in my way to keep me from delving in."

I pull up in front of my apartment building, and I feel sick inside; a step away from nauseous.

Stay with me.

I stop the car. "Thank you for the ride. I really enjoyed meeting you." It kills me to say those words, but what else am I supposed to do? Drag my leg over the steering wheel and mount her without another word?

Yes. You are.

Shit. I look straight ahead out the window, and my apartment several yards away seems like a cave, about to swallow me whole, where I'll never see the light of day again.

"If you want to enjoy meeting me again, since this was so stimulating, I'll be at the Xplore Fitness center tomorrow at eleven. I'm the hot brunette in the middle of the yoga class." She chuckles.

She leans over me and opens my door. Her breasts lightly tickle my thighs as they brush past me.

I close my eyes and try not to snatch at her and kiss her and rub my dick all over her neck and beg her to come inside with me so I can get her naked and sweat all over her while I do dirty things to her. Why does all of that sound so unlike me, yet, exactly what I need?

She turned me into a beast. An unthinking appendage. And dammit, I want more.

"See you around, Cullen," she says silkily.

"Walk me to my door?" I ask. I grab her arm.

"It's still raining," she reminds me.

"You love this weather. I do too." If I'm with her I'd enjoy a fucking tornado.

"Keep your dick in your pants, and your lips to yourself. I'm not into fucking teenagers," she jokes.

"Teenagers don't have their own place," I state. My shoulders square.

She really takes issue with my age. I wish I was older so I could be on a level playing field with her, but I can't help my short existence.

She gets out of the car, opens the trunk and helps me carry my groceries, even though I tried to grab all of them. The thought hits me that if I had been smart, I should have put some of my groceries into her bags so she would've had to come and see me again to sort it out. Oh well, too late now but she did invite me to check her out at her gym . . .

When she drives away, I find myself pasted to my front window.

My dick waves bye before my hand does.

And after my groceries are put away, all I can do is plan for tomorrow.

Yoga? They can make me walk across broken glass, swallow venomous creatures, light my pants on fire—I'll be there.

Most likely with a hard-on.