We stare into each other’s eyes until we can’t stand it anymore. The pressure builds until kissing more is the only way to release it. Pressing our lips together, biting his earlobe, kissing my collarbone, pressing his nose into my sternum, rolling him over, squeezing each other hard, resting my ear on his chest.

“Your heart’s beating really fast.”

“So’s yours. I can feel it in my stomach.”

This is what we do, my imaginary boyfriend and his little castaway.

The light at the window’s turning red.

I trace my finger over the curve of his shoulder and lean up and bite it. He half squeals and laughs, rolls me over, pins my arms down, and starts kissing me. Harder and harder until he reaches down and I hear the foil of another condom ripping and we’re at it again.

After our second go we sit up and share a joint. We must look like a married couple. I nestle my shoulder into his armpit and lean against him.

“What time’s Ted taking you back over to Appledore?”

I don’t know why I ask that. He’ll go when he always goes.

“Eight. Need to get moving soon.”

“You can stay here, if you want. I’ll cook. Are you hungry?” Boys are always hungry.

“Um, yeah, but I gotta get back tonight. It’s busy on the weekend. All the Wrinklies counting on me to shift their gear, ya know?”

Just stay. They can miss you in the Bad Place for one night. Stay here, make some phone calls if you need to, rearrange your plans while I make us dinner. And then we can go for a walk on the north side of the island, out along the rocks. We can watch the sun set and maybe watch a movie on TV. Just stay tonight.

He pulls on his underwear, plain black boxers, not new, not worn out either. “I’m sorry. Maybe next time.”

“Yeah, cool. No worries.”

“Do you want any weed?”

I nod and reach for my bag to take out some money but he refuses. Instead he drops an eighth on the bedside table and leans over, kissing me again, giving this whole it’s so hard to leave you routine, which he keeps going with until I push him away.

“Come on, you don’t want to miss Ted. He’s waiting.”

He looks over at my alarm clock—“Shit”—and picks up the pace with getting dressed. “I’m sorry, I really wish I could stay.”

It’s weird being naked while he’s dressed. I don’t like it at all and I wish he’d just leave already if he has to.

“I’ll call you,” he says as he leaves without looking back at me.