I linger too long in his embrace; the night is so warm, the rocking of the boat so lulling, I have to stop myself from swaying to the music. Daniel smells really good—a masculine cocktail of saltwater, citrus, and probably just full-on testosterone.

I rock in his arms under the stars and the blanket of night air, unwilling or unable to tear myself away.

Do you have one where you’re riding a horse or a camel? Or sitting on a rocket ship? Those are always wildly popular with men looking for sex.—SINGLE-MINDED

I’d like to say I’m not dressed up for anyone in particular, but that would be a lie.

Suddenly I’m no longer aware of the people around us, just the feel and the warmth and the scent of Daniel, and the way he’s holding me near to him

For a long time we sit there not saying anything, enjoying the quiet of the bay and the occasional steamy knee bump.

Dance, cher?” he asks, his blue eyes playful. I nod and he pulls me gently into his arms. He’s warm. We sway to the music and the gentle rocking of the boat. His hand rests on the small of my back, in that sweet spot that makes you feel feminine and protected and adored all at once.

Well, that explains the dreamy accent. And why transvestites would make him feel homesick.—SINGLE-MINDED

You know that feeling when you’re suddenly startled out of a deep sleep, and you’re in that hazy middle world where you’re not sure what’s real—like maybe you actually could be chasing after an ice cream truck wearing only fishing waders and a canary yellow bridesmaid’s dress, or you’re just one answer away from winning a year’s supply of adult diapers on a Japanese game show?—SINGLE-MINDED