Glass (Crank 2)
Page 165
He exits his car, comes over,
and gulps me into his arms like
we’re forever friends. Great to see
you. Let’s go for a drive.
“Nice ride. Guess I wouldn’t
mind checking it out.”
[Way to play it cool. But
I can’t wait to heat things up.]
He Cruises Slowly
Up Virginia Grade,
a well-kept gravel road
into the boonies. I study
his face,
chiseled and handsome,
even in profile, the not-
quite-black shade of
his eyes.
He asks how I’ve been,
what all I’ve been up to,
and my focus shifts to
his lips,
pouting and perfect. As I
outline the last three weeks,
I notice the breadth of
his shoulders.
He’s built, so he must do
something besides deal,
something physical.
His biceps
don’t deny that notion.