Nearly empty bottles, full glasses, cigarettes crushed in the ashtray on the wooden table. They drank, laughed, and touched each other as if they hadn’t just met earlier that same day.

The young, free spirits were sprawled across the wine-colored, slightly stained carpet, shifting topics every two minutes, unable to contain their mutual curiosity and desire—a magnetic, uncommon, almost magical connection. You could feel your heart beat a little faster, skipping a few beats, as butterflies fluttered in your stomach each time those slightly calloused fingertips brushed against your leg or shoulder, or when those ocean-blue eyes locked onto yours.

It was an enormous coincidence that you had met when you both arrived in Oklahoma, even more so that you had so much in common. You spend an entire day together until, by mid-afternoon, you must part ways to continue your respective journeys. Despite this, neither of you can shake the memory of the presence, romantic tension, and emotional connection you share during your brief time together. It's no wonder that, after the sun sets, he uses his charm to persuade your sweet innocence into letting him stay in your motel room. You don't know him completely, but the feeling is intoxicating.

Did he tell you about being a drifter? A small-time thief?

Oh.

"Don’t your hand ever get tired holdin’ all that weight, huh?" the blond man asked, taking her hand gently in his palm and stroking it tenderly, his thumb tracing over the silver rings on her fingers. A sly grin and a mischievous glint danced in his expression, appearing with a subtlety only he could pull off.

The real live outlaw, J.D.