It didn't seem absolutely necessary, that I become acquainted with Scott Morely. He knew who I was, didn't he? But he kept looking at my legs. It was almost a challenge. He was lots older than the boys I'd dated back in Williamsburg. I couldn't help wonder what hoops I might be able to put him through. And the Scotch I'd drunk said yes, too.

Scott gave the waiter a nod when he took our order. The drink I got was fruity and nice. But underneath the sugar I could taste plenty of booze.

"A girl does have to be careful," Scott said. "Especially one like you."

"What makes me different?" I said, trying not to slur nay words. I felt pretty loaded. I wasn't used to too much hard stuff. I wasn't used to any hard stuff!

"You know what makes you different," he said. I couldn't look in his eyes. A thrill burned through my body. It was exciting having a man on the run again. A real man. Not just some high-school big shot.

We talked about things. Scott had been around the world and filled me in on a few of his adventures. He seemed a perfect gentleman, though. Except for those eyes. We finished our drinks and he escorted me back across the street to the parking lot. He had a low-slung sports car.

"I didn't say I was going anywhere with you," I started.

"You have your bikini with you, don't you? I know a place…"

"The beach is right down there," I said, pointing at the ocean.

"My place is better. No people." He started the engine. I felt silly standing in the hot parking lot with my bikini rolled in a towel. And the heat was cooking the alcohol in my head. I slid in and held on as Scott gunned off down the highway.

We had to walk down a narrow path to get to the ocean. It looked like a private beach, though there weren't any houses close by. Scott pulled a pair of trunks out of his hip pocket and undid his belt. I looked away when I realized he was going to change right there in front of me. He saw me looking for a private spot.