JUST-DESERTS.COMA
heat wave was suffocating the San Fernando Valley. The window A/C unit rattled, spewing out only a weak stream of cool air. It was so hot and still that even the beige carpeting felt oppressive. We lay beside each other, drenched in sweat, naked on top of the sheets of his futon. Our hands rested on each other’s damp thighs, too hot to get close again. Steve smelled sweet like sandalwood and rain forest shampoo. I loved him, of course I’d loved him from the first date, tall and muscular brown with long, wavy dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. The Webster’s definition of the word, man. He was quiet, calm, reassuring. Back then, I thought that quiet meant deep, interesting, a vast well of soul to share a little at a time. Later, I would realize that quiet meant secrets
