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in this condition.”
    “I’ll be fine.” He watches me intensely as I curl up. “I’ll sleep it off in two hours. You can go back to the party.” I mumble something about the bonfire I already regret missing.  
    The next thing I know, the bed dips as his body settles beside me. Plop –one of Belmont’s shoes hits the floor and then the other.  
    “It’s not you that I’m worried about.” He stretches out. Our faces are close. “Daisy?”
      “Yes?” I croak, unable to open my eyes. I’m not so out of it that I can’t hear the yearning in his voice.
    “Will you let me hold you?”
    I gulp and nod against the most comfortable pillow I’ve ever laid my head on.  
    Belmont reaches over to rotate my body, and now he’s spooning me. His ready bulge is pressed against the crease of my butt. My heart starts thumping, my nipples stiffen, and my body craves more of him. However, I have no plans to go all the way. After all, I only met him today and in the fragile state that I’m in, there’s no way of trusting my own emotions or desires. Maybe I’m simply vulnerable. Maybe I’m on the rebound.  
    But his body does feel like heaven against mine.  
    “Daisy?” His voice warms my ear.
    “Humph?” I hum comfortably.
    “What’s my type if you’re not my type?”
    “Huh?” I’m wide awake now. “You heard that?”
    “Every word. So what’s my type?”
    I shrug.  
    “Stay still,” he warns and then grinds his package against my tender bottom. “Please,” he pleads vulnerably. His fingers strum my belly and work their way up to my breasts.  
    I try not to moan. I want him to stop and to keep going just the same. I want to throw common sense and caution to the wind and let him have my body. I clasp his hand to stop him. “Please,” I say in the same tone he just used.
    He chuckles, and it sounds so sexy. “All right, but you haven’t answered my question.”
    “What do I think your type is?” I ask.
    “Yes.”
    “More Barbie-ish.”
    “You mean blonde?”
    “Barbie comes in all colors. But they all have the same hair, makeup, stilettos, and plastic. There’s nothing wrong with it. It’s just far from who I am.”
    “Do you really believe I’m that shallow?”
    “I don’t know. You just have a look about you.” I yawn. “When I saw you, I said, ‘Not his type, not my type.’”
    “When did you first see me?”
    “On the pier.”
    “Did you see me staring at you?”
    “No,” I whisper.  
    “I wanted you then. But you’re wrong about me, Daisy.”
    “I am?” I mutter.
    “You are.”
    A long moment of silence lingers. I’m halfway asleep. I’ve never felt this comfortable in a man’s arms. I feel like if I sleep, then he’ll slay any dragon and conquer any army that seeks to destroy me in my dreams.  
    “Daisy,” I hear him ask faintly.
    “Humph…”
    “Are you asleep?”
    “Humph…”
    I feel his package grind against me a few times. His lips kiss the back of my neck. Then he takes my shoulder and guides me around to face him. Our lips and tongues lock. Our kiss is deep and passionate. My head is spinning for so many different reasons, but my escalating dopamine levels caused by arousal is the main one.
    “That’s all I’ll take from you for now,” he whispers as he sucks on my neck one last time. Belmont gently helps me face away from him, and he wraps his arms around me. He squeezes me tightly. Once again, I feel safe.  
    He says something in my ear but I’m already dreaming about floating on the raging Atlantic Ocean. I’m naked, and the sun is directly above me. I have a feeling that Charlie is sitting in the Adirondack chair observing me. Suddenly, Belmont is lying on top of me, and together we are being pulled into the deep, clear water. I’m waiting to drown. I’m waiting to hit bottom. But we’re just staring into each other’s eyes, falling into forever.  
    I open my eyes.
    It’s morning.
    I’m in bed alone, in a strange room, slowly