“That,” I said, heading back with the bag from the fridge, “is a great idea. Like a drive-in. No dress code.”
“Like our nude beach excursion.”
“Right.” I sent the bag over and waited for a reaction. It came in a hearty laugh.
“Milk, eggs, ham, cheese, ice cream and clothespins.”
“Well, ya know, if we’re gonna hang out…”
“Excellent.”
I heard water running. Kit was washing his hands after touching the groceries. Maybe wiping them down, too. Safe s*x had a whole new meaning. Imaginary s*x was the safest. I pictured a water fight with the dish sprayer. After grinding into Kit’s wet, see-through white briefs up against the refrigerator, I’d peel them off him so we could f**k on his kitchen counter.
“What ‘cha thinking?” he asked.
“Um…Movies,” I managed. “What do you like?”
“If I tell y
