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This is why our online/on-phone friendship had gelled so quickly.
I was stirred by being near her, the dark shape of her head enticingly close to mine.
That night she and I decided to venture forth and get a drink at Johnny O's, the local bar on the island.
We were the life of that place on that night, laughing and sharing intimate stories.
Our eyes flickered on each other's faces and then off again quickly. We walked through the dark dunes, carrying our vodka tonics.
I had an easy flight there, rented a sporty Mustang, and drove the two hours south of Tallahassee to the island -- St. I was feeling high, exhilarated by driving fast, playing loud music, and getting closer and closer to a soul mate.
"Megan," her soft, rich voice floated to my ears, "how do you feel about us right now?
" I knew immediately the reference she was making: to that one time we had spoken about our potential attraction for each other.
All the beach houses on the island were separated from each other by undeveloped lots filled with wild brush and sand dunes.
Their house was two-thirds of the way down the road on the west side of the island. I slowly opened the trunk, removed my bag, and began the walk up to the front door. Before I could say anything, I was swept into a long, strong hug, and could have sworn she was holding me up as I felt no strength in my legs.