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The sun scorched across the tarmac, sucking dry what little moisture remained on skin. Blinking furiously against the savage rays-though he logically knew it, Steven marveled at the difference in the sun at this latitude compared to England-Steven descended the metal steps, you in tow. Heat sizzled off the asphalt in visible waves, cooking the soles of Steven's shoes.
"My God," he cried, ducking into the shade of the terminal, "what hell is this?"
"Welcome to the American Southwest," you answered dryly. You lingered just outside the shadow cast by the large building, head tilted up toward the sun, letting its warmth drench you.
"She's insane," Marc muttered.
Steven would have agreed, but he was arrested by the shape of your neck and the peace slowly unfolding across your face as you soaked up the light. "Beautiful."
Peeling open one eye, you glanced at him, an eyebrow arching. "What?"
"Oh, uh..." He swallowed thickly. "You just look beautiful."
Opening the other eye, you stared at him, mouth twitching as you processed his words. "Thanks..." You stepped into the shade, your bag slung over your shoulder.
Smiling awkwardly, Steven gestured to the terminal's doors. He followed you into the blissfully air-conditioned interior, a sigh of relief slipping out of him like an erotic moan. You glanced back at him, your expression shaken.
Steven ducked his head, cheeks burning. "It was so hot out there."
"Hot in here, too," you muttered, then shook your head violently as though trying to expel the words from the space around your mouth.
Flushing for a different reason, Steven reached out to grab your hand, hesitated.
