"You have that look on your face again."
"Yeah. I was thinking of something."
"Tell me."
"Can't."
She pouts. "You know that's not the answer I'm looking for."
His hand is as large as her bare shoulder. He pulls her close, not caring to be gentle. Her lips against his remind him of candy. Even from behind drawn blinds, the morning sun feels like a blast furnace. The fan buzzes like a beehive. His fingers curl into her hair as he draws her close. Her arms enfurl him, her unclad body presses into his. She is enveloped by his presence, the spice of his sweat, his rough-tanned limbs drawing her into his wished-for position. She gasps.
Eventually, he and she roll away. He lights her cigarette. She breathes in greedily.
"You'll be in Topeka tonight?"
"Yeah. Then Madison. That's my line for this week, I gotta fill in for one of the captains called in sick. Overtime for me."
She stubs out her cigarette. His hat is on the bedside table, hanging on the edge where it had landed. She leans over him, unmindful of the bedsheets as they slip. She puts his hat on her heat. It's three sizes too big for her.
The fan blades correlate to an engine in his mind. He's already halfway to Topeka.
"Make me an omelette?" He looks forward to fried onions in his buttered eggs.
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