I swear I wasn’t looking for anything. I don’t deny that I was open to a short summertime fling, if opportunity presented me with it, but I wasn’t actively searching. I wasn’t on any dating sites, and I had no personal advertisements posted anywhere. What happened wasn’t my fault.

I was just shopping, and innocently loading groceries into my car. He walked up to me and asked if he could help. It was hotter than hell outside, upwards of 98°, and I had beaucoup bags left to load. I said, “Okay, thanks,” and that was all.

Okay, so I noticed that he was extremely good looking, all sinews and sharp angles, with eyes that I wanted to dive into naked, but those were just thoughts. I gave nothing away, so shoot me for having some very private thoughts. It didn’t mean anything.

His help was immensely appreciated, but still I said nothing. I turned the ignition, and he leaned into the passenger side, demanding, “Give me your name and number, or I’m coming with you.”

I was frazzled, and I scrawled the information on a paper, and handed it to him. I was overheated, and I thought I would tell him, when he called, that I wasn’t shopping for a boyfriend. I thought, what’s the harm? It’s too damned hot to argue, in the Publix parking lot, in the middle of July. It wasn’t an invitation, I swear it.

By evening, I stood in a hot shower, letting the spray beat on my skin. He wasn’t even on my mind, like at all, until he was.

The phone rang, so I rinsed off quickly and grabbed it. Toweling off, I made my way to the bed and sat on the edge. “Hello?”

“Hello, Samantha. My name is Zayn. We met at Publix today.”

I inhaled sharply, remembering him, with his deeply tanned skin, and dark eyes, leaning into my car. “Zayn, hi. I remember you,” thinking, how could I forget? He threatened to get into the car and come with me.

“Would you be available to meet with me?”

In hind sight, I’m sure I should’ve said no, but there I was, alone on a Friday night, facing the prospect of a long weekend, without so much as a roommate to talk to. “Yes, what did you have in mind?”

“I’d like to take you for a drink. I know a place on the beach.”

“I’d like that.”

“I’ll pick you up at 8pm. What’s your address?”

In retrospect, I probably should’ve met him there, but I was frazzled, and I don’t see well at night. It was better to let him pick me up.

How was I to know what he had planned? I couldn’t and I didn’t. Besides, it couldn’t hurt to have a drink, and get to know more than his first name. There was no intent on my part. Well, nothing overt anyways.

Sure, I could have worn something a little more demure, but I wanted to look nice, so sue me for getting dressed up.

The bar was packed and we were lucky to find an empty table. We talked about the things dictated by a public atmosphere, and watched people on the dance floor. I was two drinks deep, in Long Island Iced Teas, when a slow song came on, and he asked me to dance. It’s for sure, I should have turned him down, but where’s the fun in that? I wanted to dance, damn it!

He led me onto the floor, and wrapped his massive arms around me, and I felt so safe. It wasn’t like anything I’d ever felt before, and I was purely happy. I closed my eyes and let him lead.

Afterwards, I joined him for a walk on the beach. It wasn’t suggestive, at least not on my part. The bar was deafening and I wanted to get to know him better. I ditched my heels in his car, and he retrieved a beach blanket to sit on.

We walked quite a distance, holding hands and talking. Admittedly, I was kind of fascinated. He spoke like an adult. Not even similar to the boys I had dated prior. Where they had surfing dreams and avoided responsibility, Zayne had goals and ambition. It was beyond refreshing and, the truth is, I was becoming attracted to him.