Page 33 of The Last Man on Earth
“You look beautiful,” he says. “And you smell good, too.”
Before I can respond, he stoops to gather my things. “I found what I was looking for. Follow me.”
We walk. I trail a few feet behind, my legs feeling heavy. Then, because I’m dying to know, I blurt, “You didn’t sneak a peek at me, did you?”
He stops, turning toward me with a grin that’s wide enough to be an answer. “If you were me, wouldn’t you?”
He turns and walks again, leaving me unsettled. But not because he saw me. For whatever reason, I’m okay with that.
“Did you like what you saw?”
He stops again, but he doesn’t turn around.
“I did.”
I swallow hard, stomach fluttering.
We reach our destination shortly after. I marvel at the seaweed, washed ashore in thick brown ropes. We work silently,side-by-side, piling it together a safe distance from the shore. My hands sting from the salt, but I barely notice.
I’m still stuck on what he said.
“How big do you think the letters need to be?” he asks, his breath ragged.
“I’m not sure. Probably way bigger than we think is necessary.”
“How high do them bitches be?”
“What bitches?”
He laughs. “The planes. How many feet?”
“Oh.” I scratch at my sweaty neck. “It depends. Could be thirty thousand feet, could be five thousand. I would assume a rescue plane would fly low, though.”
He nods absentmindedly, staring off into the distance.
“Alright, I’ma do the H. You can rest if you want.”
“Thank you. My legs are a little tired.”
I sit on a thick log, watching him arrange the seaweed into something that might save our very lives. And when he finally speaks again, his voice comes quiet and cautious, almost like he’s confessing something.
“There’s this girl,” he says, still working, not looking at me. “Probably my favorite stripper in all of Houston, Miami,andAtlanta. Her name is Storm.”
I make a face, lips curled in disgust, because why is he telling me this?
“The way she dances,” he continues against my will, “it’s like…water. She moves so smooth. She just does it for me, if that makes sense.”
Of course it does, pervert.
“Today, I seen you from a distance. In the ocean.” He scoops up another pile of seaweed. “Frolicking. Lookin’ all relaxed and happy and beautiful. And I swear to God, that shit turned me on more than every lap dance I ever got from Storm.”
He stops moving to look at me. “I thought you were fine as hell the first time I saw you at the top of them steps. But seeing you today…it was different.”
He holds my gaze until I break away, my eyes dropping to the sand beneath my feet.
“That’s all I wanted to say,” he finishes, and then he gets back to work like nothing happened.
But it did.
