Kimberly hated the silence between them.

It was back, with a vengeance, as soon as they saw that the condom had broken.

Not much later, as she was struggling with her ruined tights, buttoning up her jacket and trying to smooth her tangled hair in such a hurry. 

Asher leaned over the front seat and opened the glove compartment. He found a pen and a scrap of paper, on which he quickly scrawled a series of numbers.

“Here.” His breath fogged on the frozen air.

She took it. “What’s this?” she asked staring at the paper. 

“My phone number.” he said simply.

For a moment, she actually thought that she’d...