Adventure
Outdoor passion, travel encounters, spontaneous locations
40 stories
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She Kept Stealing My Bourbon
The condensation on my glass was the only cold thing in Manhattan, until she pressed her wrist against my neck.
Stop Checking Your Watch
He tastes like the high-altitude air and the salt I’ve been sweating out for three miles of vertical incline.
Insulation
Elias looks at the generator like he’s trying to convince it to surrender, which is exactly how he used to look at me during Christmas dinner.
The Sticky Rim of a Negroni Glass
I could see the pulse in your neck jumping, a little frantic bird trapped under your skin, and I knew exactly how to quiet it.
Wyatt's Sharpening Stone
The way he looked at me wasn't a glance; it was a reconnaissance mission, and I was wide open for the taking.
I Hope You Don't Need This Shirt Back
The way you handled that upright bass—all thick wood and vibrating tension—should have been a federal travel warning for anyone with a pulse.
The AV Closet in Porter Hall
You are standing by the punch bowl like a martyr waiting for a stake, and frankly, the martyrdom is making me incredibly wet.
"I’m Going to Need a Very Good Reason to Open This Door."
The bass was so loud it didn't just hit my ears; it vibrated the spare change in my pocket and the teeth in my head.
Julian's Compass
I watched the sweat track a path between your breasts like a river cutting through a valley I hadn't yet mapped.
A Loose Sequin on the Rug
He tasted like a four-hundred-dollar bottle of Scotch and the kind of career-ending decision that looks spectacular in the right lighting.
Elias's Cufflink
I want to see if you taste like that bourbon you’ve been nursing, or if you’re just as sweet and dangerous as a peach soaked in moonshine.
—she was holding a book she wasn’t reading
The ice in her cup had melted into a flat, gray slurry, but she kept stirring it with a plastic straw, looking at me like I was a problem she was looking forward to solving.