This bar by the beach doesn’t lessen the heat, it amplifies it. I no longer drip with perspiration, but something else, something feral. There’s a cool breeze blowing off the ocean, a beer in my hand, condensation taking a slow tour of the glass, but every second I’m sitting here, I’m getting hotter. Why? This isn’t me, I don’t get sweaty and nervous and out of breath. Then again, I’ve never sat next to you before. I’ve never been this close to a woman so hot I could fry an egg on her skin. This heat, it’s getting to me.