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I ate some melon slices, so he could watch me chew. Eating can be so erotic.
    “Come on, let’s take a walk,” he said as he got up, tossing two twenty dollar bills on the table and motioning for the waitress. He had his book in hand. I gulped a quick drink, dabbed my mouth with my napkin, and pulled my book off the table, covering the title with my hand (ever so possessive). He moved quickly out onto the street in the direction of Griffith Park. Walking without Shadow felt like an act of betrayal.
    “My truck’s up the street. I was checking out a landscaping design I liked, so I parked in front of it,” he said.
    I nodded like I understood, like it was typical. He stepped back so he was now beside me.
    “I like your lips,” he said, which made me laugh.
    Oh, had he planned that line, because it worked. He hooked his arm into mine and we walked toward his Chevy pickup truck, the kind a hunter or fisherman would own. He opened the passenger door first and, as I got in, he said, “Nice hips,” and again I laughed. Maybe he wasn’t cocky, just ‘weird,’ in an appealing and very sexy way. He got in and started the truck, and then looked at me.
    “How about we make out at Zuma Beach?” he asked, like it was an everyday question between two strangers.
    “Sure,” I said, not wanting to sound too excited or horny or both.
    “I like your hips, because they swivel,” he said as he peeled out and headed onto Sunset Boulevard. I thought he would have asked the usual relationship interview questions, like, “are you single?” and “are you into an LTR?” (long-term relationship), but he didn’t.
    He played Kid Rock’s Only God Knows Why . I’d never heard it before and so I said nothing, letting the lyrics fall over me. Justin rocked to it with his hands drumming on steering wheel, as if the song was personal. So odd, I was going to Malibu after all. And to the beach, how weird was that? Really weird, but how could I knock it? I was getting what I had wished for, only I wasn’t sure if Justin was really ‘genuine,’ or if I was going to like kissing him. Zuma is a really beautiful, stunning stretch of beach in Malibu. Since it was a weekday, it wasn’t crowded.
    The great thing about an actor’s schedule is that you can end up with six days of work, followed by nothing. Of course, if you’re a bona fide working actor, you make good money and don’t care when you have free time.
    I hopped out of the truck with Justin staring at my backside. Wow. He pulled out a blanket and a beat-up water proof tote bag and we left our books in the truck; we were done with the reading ‘test’ part of the date. I had a feeling kissing was ‘test’ number two.
    “So, are you from Colorado, or Maine?” I asked, having studied him long enough. He inched closer to me as we hit the sand.
    “Maine,” he said.
    I glanced at him; he was cute and smart, though I guessed a college dropout, because he seemed to beat to his own drum. The kind of man that doesn’t want to blend in or do as other collegiates.
    “College dropout, you’ve had sex with up to 18 women, and you prefer to eat meat over fish any day. Right?” I asked; as we neared the spot he had chosen.
    “Applied, got accepted to an Ivy one, but only did a semester. As for women, 5 total, and I prefer cod or halibut over salmon and not meat unless it’s organic chicken. I can swallow mussels whole. I like seawater. Anything else?”
    I shook my head. I mean, it was fun, and it’s not like I had ever just pitched my first impression before. I felt like my art model friend McKenna, who reads astrology charts, and understands people based on their astrological signs. I mean, wow, I was reading him. I suddenly knew that after I kissed him, I’d probably know more, maybe too much.
    He spread out a navy cotton blanket and we sat down. He was fast! Like I guessed he would be. He had me pinned under him and was over me, our faces inches apart, just staring into each