““You’re awfully quiet,” Marlboro Man said, his hand resting on the back of my head. “Am I?” I asked, playing dumb. “I don’t mean to be.” “You’re not your usual self,” he responded, his hand finding the back of my neck. A million tingles traveled down my spine. “Oh, I’m fine,” I said, trying to appear strong and together. “I think that twenty-mile run got the best of me today.” Marlboro Man chuckled. I’d hoped that would happen. “Twenty miles? That’s a mighty big golf course,” he remarked. We both laughed, well aware that I was way too much of a pansy-ass to run such a distance.””
