Sweet Poison *Updated every Friday @ 1PM*

Three

Finally, a breeze. It was short and brief, made me realize that I had sweat starting to pool at the dip in my neck at the crescendo of my breastbone.

"Thanks," I said to the stranger with the blue eyes and black Audi. "But I'm just going to take the subway."

I was lying. But he didn't know that.

"Of course," he said, standing straight again. "You don't accept rides from strangers? I wouldn't either."

He slipped his cigarette between his lips and stuck out his hand.

I hesitated. It wasn't that. I just didn't want him to know I didn't have a home. Was too embarrassed for him to find out I was in custody of the government.

"I'm Liam."

But his hand, I wanted to know what it would feel like against mine, needed to feel his skin against mine, wanted to touch him. I hesitated before pressing my palm to his. His grip was firm. Mine started that way, then quickly went limp.

I flicked a glance to the half-smoked cigarette in his mouth. I wished he would put that thing out. It was too damn distracting. I felt my eyes lingering on his lips too much, even when he wasn't inhaling from it.

"Why don't you quit those?" I asked.

"The simple answer?" He spoke with his little cancer stick bobbing between clenched teeth instead of pulling it away. "It's hard."

"And what about the complicated answer?"

Liam went catatonic for a few moments, moving his cigarette with his teeth but not his lips. No words, just private thoughts. It felt completely quiet despite the seldom late-night traffic going down the nearest main street. As far as I could tell he was what the streets would call a square. He looked clean, like he showered daily, cut his hair and clipped his nails regularly, the kind of guy who wore expensive designer colognes and well-cut suits to work everyday. The only thing that went against his politically-correct appearance was his unshaven chin and jaw. I assumed that wasn't intentional. He must have been slacking lately. Maybe he was going through a tough personal issue. Some kind of rough spell.

"Guess I'm scared," he finally responded, bringing his eyes to mine.

They were the color of a Ragdoll's. And they had that same feline-style effect. Hypnotizing. I felt like a captive canary. Heart pounding.

"Scared of what?" I asked.

I sounded breathless. But I didn't freak. I could easily blame it on the steaming weather.

"What happens after. The unknown."

"Have you tried?"

"A few times. But it's never worked because I was doing more for my wife than I was doing it for myself."

"Won't she just smell it on your clothes?"

He shook his head. "She's been in Boston for the past week. Picking her up at Laguardia tomorrow morning."

Boston. Over two hundred miles stood between right and wrong. That detail intensified the moment, altered the dynamic.

I wasn't ready to give him the chance to make a move. Too scared I wouldn't be able to resist again. Needed to make more small talk.

"Why is she in Boston?" I asked.

He shrugged. "A work thing."

"On the weekend?"

He nodded. "Her job is like her second husband. He gets more of her time than I do."

Between the cigarette and the wedding band, I should have hurried away from him. He was probably twice my age.