On the short ride home he caught me staring at his crotch, trying to see if it were true or not. I was embarrassed to be caught, and blushed profusely...when he asked if I was enjoying undressing him with my eyes. I just giggled and asked if I was that obvious, all the while wishing the light were better. When we got to my house he stopped the car across the street under a big oak tree that sort of hung out over the road, and offered a dark spot in the otherwise bright night, and started asking. I may be a middling/poor Catholic—not sure I believe any of it, anymore—but there are some things about the way I was brought up that still feel right, regardless."Wish me luck, guys," I said.Then I opened the door and smiled at the scrumptious stud-muffin standing on my front porch. I admit, I was a bit let down to see how casually Connor had dressed for our date—blue jeans and a faded bomber jacket—and he hadn't brought me flowers or anything (sue me, I'm old-fashioned). Still, he was. More

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