When they arrived at his place—a small, shabby house not all that much different from her father’s, but in worse shape—Brian pushed open the unlocked front door and Caddie walked in. The house was decorated in what Caddie thought of as Trash Night Eclectic, a phrase she’d coined to describe furnishings gleaned from the unwanted things set out on sidewalks the world over on the night before garbage pickup. Not that anything was dirty or broken, just mismatched and on the far side of being new, or even middle-aged.

“I know, it looks like a frat house,” Brian said. “It all came with the place. The house is owned by some old guy who supports the aquarium. He lets summer workers live here free. I figured I’d rather stay here and pocket the money than spend a couple hundred bucks a month for someplace with better chairs.”

Caddie couldn’t argue with that. “Besides,” she told him, “it’s not that bad.”

“You hungry?” Brian called from the other room, where he’d disappeared a moment earlier.

“A little,” Caddie answered. The pasta she’d downed before meeting him had been good, but now she found she wanted something more.

Brian was gone another minute or two. When he came back he said, “I called for takeout. It should be here in twenty minutes.”

“What’ll we do until then?” Caddie asked him.

Brian put his arms around her waist. “Have I shown you the bedroom?” he asked.

Caddie let him take her upstairs and into the bedroom that, in another house, was her father’s bedroom. She approached the bed—this one centered on the wall and unmade—and sat on it. Brian, putting his hand on her shoulders, pushed her gently back and straddled her. Then he leaned down and kissed her.

This time his kiss was anything but tentative. His tongue explored Caddie’s mouth, probing and insistent. She kissed him back, her hands on his lower back, pulling him into her. She felt his hardness through his shorts and slid her hand down to meet him.

The kiss went on without pause. Brian, grabbing her wrist, put her arm behind her head, then brought her other arm up. Pinning her, he rubbed himself against her in short thrusts, all the while looking into her eyes and holding his mouth just out of reach as she tried to kiss him. Then he sat up, releasing her wrists. His shirt came off, and Caddie ran her fingers down the tight planes of his torso. His skin was warm to the touch, the hair on his stomach soft as she followed it down to the waistband of his shorts.

As she was reaching for the button holding him closed, the doorbell rang. Brian looked down at her. “Do you mind getting that?” he said. He glanced meaningfully at his crotch, which was tenting out significantly.