Example of a One Night Stand Scene

"I don't do this," she said, even as her back pressed against his apartment door, even as his mouth traced the line of her jaw. "Neither do I." His voice was rough against her neck. His hands found her waist. "I don't even know your last name." "Is that a dealbreaker?" She thought about it for exactly half a second. "No." He unlocked the door without looking — one hand on her hip, the other finding the keyhole by muscle memory. They stumbled inside. She pulled his shirt free. He shrugged out of his jacket. Neither of them turned on the lights. The apartment smelled like coffee and cedar. She registered a tall bookshelf, a guitar in the corner, a kitchen with actual plants in it. Details she would remember later, in the taxi home, when she tried to reconstruct who he was from the fragments. But that was later. Right now his mouth was on hers and his hands were everywhere and the city was a blur of lights through windows neither of them thought to close. "Stay," he said later. Not asking. Not insisting. Just putting the word into the dark. She looked at him in the blue light of a streetlamp filtering through the blinds. His hair was wrecked. He looked completely different from the confident stranger at the bar — softer, real, almost vulnerable. "One night," she said. "That was the deal." She kissed him anyway. Stayed anyway.

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