Finally, they had to break for air. They looked at each other guiltily, with bedroom eyes and bashful smiles. Their lips were rimmed pink with light abrasions.

Arik put his hands on the small of her back and reeled her in for another kiss. Another wave of desire washed through her and she closed her eyes. “I feel like we’re invisible,” she said. “And inaudible.”

This time, she clasped her hands behind his neck. She was surprised by how smoothly everything came to her, and his reactions were just as natural. She sucked on his tongue; he responded by thrusting it deeper into her mouth. He pushed his lower torso toward her and, meeting with no resistance, rubbed himself against her, following whatever rhythm felt good to him.

A man cleared his throat near them.

“Excuse me, lovebirds,” he said. They unglued their faces, dazed. It was a portly African American in a Dodgers jersey. “Could you both just scootch over a little. I need to get to my ice cubes.”

“Sorry, sir,” Arik said, still hugging Rosemary as they moved aside.

“Don’t you apologize, son,” the man said. He reached into the freezer and grabbed two large bags of ice. “Lord knows I wish I had your youth. Carry on.” He winked at the two of them, then waddled off, a bag balanced in each arm.

Arik released himself from Rosemary and pressed his front against the cold freezer door, throwing her the goofiest, straight-from-the-heart smile.

“Shall we get out of here?”

She kissed him, and they ran.

The heat outside greeted them like an old friend. Arik grabbed Rosemary’s hand and led her to the back of the Rite Aid. Wordlessly, in the shade of the loading area, they wrapped themselves in each other. Arik pinned her against the wall and continued to rub his groin against her as they kissed. Heat rose from the concrete, and they were very quickly slick with sweat.

“I hope . . . this isn’t bothering you.”

He moved her hand to the front of his pants. There it is, she thought, there it is. It was like Mr. Z’s, only more pronounced. She didn’t know if she should rub her palm over the bulge, or fondle it, or what.

“I want you to touch me, Rose,” he whispered into her ear so it tickled. “And I want to touch you.”