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He doesn’t seem to care that I was looking, or at the very least, he lets me off the hook. He brings my palm to his mouth, pressing his lips into my hand. His teeth are gentle against my skin, and his cheeks hollow a moment before he pulls back, spitting off into the lawn. With a tug, he brings his hat back down, then says, “there.” I look at my palm, at the tiny pinpoint of red where the splinter existed moments ago. He sucked it out? And then spit it out? And for some reason, I’m finding that extremely hot? Am I a slut in Bluebell?
