Daryl Hall was on Jimmy Fallon the other night, therefore....

Laguna Beach summers were like magic.  There was always an element of anticipation in the air, you never knew what the day would bring.  In the summer of ‘81 she fell in love.  Every time she hears “She’s Gone” or “Sara Smile”, her thoughts still drift back to Peter…

It was the perfect warm summer day.  She could see the ocean as she stepped from her car, the sun glistening on the waves. A slight breeze swept across her face.  Anticipation was growing.

She had to see him. He’d been on her mind for the last two days, he was all she could think about.  How good she felt when they were together, how easy and natural their relationship was.  He had an air of toughness about him, but it was overshadowed by his sincere innocence.  He was a few years younger which added an extra element of lust, he was so eager to please and she was so experienced.

Tall, blond, strong. She loved his Jersey accent and the way his hair fell across his forehead. She loved his manly scent and his boyish smile.  His eyes were a bright light blue surrounded by lush dark lashes.  He had the body only a young man can have – lean muscles covered with the softest, smoothest tan skin. 

He was very confident around her even though he was barely out of his teens. He made her feel safe and protected. He treated her like gold.  She never grew tired of hearing him say how beautiful and sensual she was.  She never tired of showing him her appreciation for all his sweet words.

 
She stepped across the blacktop avoiding the puddles of oil and walked behind the gas station. She felt the eyes of several men watching her as she walked past. She liked the feeling of being looked at.

Her body tensed at the thought of his touch, she had been aching to see him for days. They had been together most of the summer and every time she saw him her heart still skipped a beat. She was so looking forward to surprising him today.

There he was. She stopped and smiled to herself and watched him. He was leaning against the wall smoking a cigarette and talking to guy who was looking under the hood of a car.

After a moment he felt her presence, looked over and smiled. He walked over and bent to kiss her, being careful not to touch her with his greasy hands. He wasn't expecting her but when he saw her standing there, he knew why she'd come.

He gave her the keys to his place and she went there to wait for him. She opened all the windows to let the ocean breeze in. She put on his favorite music and neatly made his bed and tidied up his little house.

When she heard the sound of his motorcycle approaching she took off her clothes and waited by the door. He was surprised to see her wearing only an expression of seduction. Her long hair brushing across her soft tan skin.

She led him to the shower and bathed him. She loved his lean body, his naturally muscular arms. She loved making him wait, hearing him moan in anticipation of what was to come.

They spent the afternoon on the neatly made bed. As the sun started to set he pulled a blanket over them and told her he loved her for the first time.

Her heart dropped.  He had used the “L” word, a word that scared her, haunted her.  Loving to her, meant being hurt.  She didn’t want to, but as with all the men before who had said those three words, she had to leave.

She began to cry and he held her tight, assuming she was overwhelmed with joy. He kissed her hair, her eyes, her shoulders. He was so sweet and tender.

They made love one more time that evening and she knew it would be their last. Poor Peter, another heart broken.  Another lover left to wonder how something so good could end so abruptly.

As she looks back today on her “was he the one I let get away” list, Peter is at the top.