“Sorry to waste your time. Drive safe.” He pats the roof of the car and walks away. I take a deep breath and watch him meander through the storm-cut beam of my headlights. Their weak glow gives me a little more information about him: he’s a big guy. Massive, really, with flimsy, wet material hugging his muscles. I lean forward and watch him as the wipers make another pass. Don’t, I remind myself. He doesn’t even have a jacket, I argue back. Nothing but that short-sleeved shirt, which is plastered to his body, and there haven’t been any other cars on the road for a while now. No, Selena, don’t
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