“I am. I just, you know, had my head into something else.” Having stripped, she pressed up against him, running her hands along the front of his pants. He was already hard, a conditioned response. She slid his shorts down over his hips. She kissed him, lips soft and open, and then sank down to her knees and took him in her mouth. He grabbed her by the arms and pulled her up, kissing her with the same intensity she always called out of him. Smiling, she put her bare feet on the tops of his and he walked her to the bed.

The sex was good. It was always good, but this time his inclination was to be done with it and get her out of the way. She was a distraction. Her intensity was like a mass of hot, wet rags pressed over his face. He could hardly breathe. She must have sensed his distance because she clung to him like an octopus, all arms and legs and sucking. She wanted his full attention and she was doing what she could to arouse him for another round.

He pushed her hand away. “Enough. I’m bushed.”

“Don’t be such a shit. You never turned me down before.”

“I didn’t turn you down. What do you want from me? We just made love.”

She settled on her side, her head propped on one hand. “You know what? We belong together. We’re a good fit.”

“How do you figure that?”

“It’s the feeling I had the first time we met. Like we were together in another life.”

“Yeah, right.”

“No, I’m serious. It’s like I remember you.”

“What about Creed? How many reincarnations have you shared with him?”

“Don’t make fun. He’s boring. All mopey and glum. I’m sick to death of him and his parents and this whole stupid town. I’m this close to taking off, just getting the hell out.”

“I thought the bus belonged to him.”

“Who said anything about the bus? That’s what thumbs are for. I hitchhiked all over the country before I hooked up with him. Pregnant, babe in arms. There’s always a guy who slows down and offers you a ride. You go where the wind blows you.”

“Go and god bless, but leave me out of it.”

“Where’s your sense of adventure? Don’t you want to live on the wing?”

“Not particularly. What about your kid? He might not appreciate being dragged all over just to satisfy your whims.”

“I’ll leave him with Creed. Sky’s crazy about Deborah. He’d be happy as a clam.”

“You can’t do that. You told me he’s not even Greg’s kid.”

“What, you think kids are possessions? Mine, yours, and his? Sky’s a child of the universe. He’ll find his own path in life. He doesn’t need me for that.”