Anticipation

I had a plan for the evening. It didn’t survive first contact.

She knew the day would be long. She didn’t know much else.

Véronique was kind enough to leave out some details. I’m not that kind.

Véronique picks up where she left off — the cold air, the car, the Liberty Hotel with its green neon and painted ceiling.

Véronique tells you about our first date, in her own words.

A much-hyped first date, a black polka-dot minidress, and a request made over drinks.

A series of questions, each one a little more insistent than the last.

Bad science, good questions, and the hottest sexual experience I can remember — one I wish I could forget.

So many ways to spend an evening together. The hard part is choosing.

The Historian sent me her journal entries from our weekend in Miami. The fucking was hot, but the feelings were hotter.