The pained rasp of his voice made her body thrum with anticipation, while his gentle caress on her skin made her feel like she was something worthy of reverence. Anna was about to tell him that not stopping was the best idea she’d heard in a long time and they should get back to figuring out just exactly how strong he was when a crash sounded. The metal back door reverberated off the wall, interrupting the words on her tongue.

Linda walked out, a trash bag in each hand and a surprised expression on her face. The older woman glanced between them and gave the pair a knowing smirk. John stepped away from Anna like a kid caught behind the bleachers by his teacher.

Anna ran her hands through her tangled hair, her ponytail holder and baseball cap lost somewhere on the ground. What was she doing? She had made out with a twentysomething struggling screenwriter slash part-time actor slash part-time bartender in an alley, and she had enjoyed it immensely.

She took a deep breath and stared down at the cracked cement. She was unemployed, and she couldn’t afford two beers. She needed a job. She needed to finish reading the TV pilot and figure out the orange goo and the spacespeak. She couldn’t lose herself in the enjoyment of an evening when she needed to get her life in order.

John tucked in his shirt with practiced ease. He shook his head in amusement and ran a hand through his hair.

Anna picked up her cap from the ground and shoved it back on her head. What if he does this all the time? Her hands shook as she straightened her jacket. She didn’t judge. They were both adults, but she hoped he didn’t do this all the time. He was so cute, and he made her laugh.

“Want to get another beer?” John smiled at her with an open expression. He looked unaffected by the fact that they had just been caught making out behind a bar.

John probably had women of all ages clamoring after him. He probably had a promising career in front of him.

“I have somewhere I need to be.” She didn’t, obviously, but she didn’t know how else to end a make-out session in an alley.

“Another time then,” John said, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets and looking down at the ground.

Is he asking me out? Anna couldn’t remember the last time she’d gone on a date. Do people go on dates anymore?

“Listen, I—” Anna hoped her smile appeared casual, that it said she was a competent adult who kissed hot younger men all the time and was in no way freaked out by what had just happened. “That was fun, but...”