#13

I didn't pull my hand away. I let it linger, waiting to see if he'd pull his back. He did, but not before he let some of the lime-chile sauce drip onto my fingers. He chuckled and offered to lick it off. I coyly declined, took my shrimp, and sucked the sauce off my own fingers, making sure he heard and saw me do it. Again, I got the characteristic grin. We laughed. I noticed my glass was empty. At that moment, I caught the server's eye. I ordered a Cuba Libre. He opted for a mojito. We took turns sampling the delicious tidbits set before us. Talked about places we wanted to visit before we died and goals we wanted to achieve in the next five years. The sexual tension was apparent and I looked around, wondering when the server would return with our entrees. I wanted to finish my meal and get out of here and see what trouble we could get into.