He was the most honest version of himself in partially deserted parking lots. It was the safest place they could meet without eyes on their hands, where they dared to place small kisses. Heat rose from hot asphalt, shopping carts sat around them like land mines. He smelled like sandlewood and soap. There’s no police between two beating hearts sang from car speakers. In sweatpants and his cheeks rubbed raw from scrubbing, he pretended they were always this cradled in warmth.