The smell of alcohol emanated from the man's pores. As I approached him, I discovered he was breathing heavily as if he was in a deep sleep. Tricia needed a new pair of glasses and/or a new nose because he was clearly alive and very inebriated. "I know this guy," I said. "He's not dead," I said. "He's drunk. Who worked the bar tonight?"

"Corey," she responded.

"That explains it," I said, folding my arms across my chest. Corey talked so much he never paid attention to how much anyone drank. Most of the diners were campers or guests. so we didn't have to worry about anyone driving. Still, I had low tolerance for drunken idiots."He never shuts people off."

"So what should we do?"

"I guess we could call the police or have an ambulance pick him up."

"Oh, come on, Juni. It'll take hours for someone to show up here. I wanna go home. I've been here since eleven this morning and my back and feet are killing me."

"Maybe he's staying at the inn?"

"How would we know? We don't know his name and he doesn't look like he has any keys on him." Damn. I wished I remembered his name. "Are there any rooms available?"

"I don't know. Everyone's gone home." Tricia and I were the last employees left on the premises.

"Maybe he's staying on the campground."

"So we're just going to drop him off at a random tent or RV? We can't do that."

"Then I don't know what to do. Figure it out, Juni. I'm going home. Will I see you at the Harvest Fair next month?"

I was always the one to 'figure things out.' "Yeah," I sighed, staring at the handsome drunk man. Earlier, I didn't envision him as a drunken idiot. I bet he had a story to tell. Everyone had a story.

"Thanks, Juni. You're a good man. See ya next month."

"Yeah," was all I said, thinking about what to do with this man. He changed positions, curling up on the floor. "Wake up. I can't stay here all night." I kicked his leg, but he didn't respond, merely grunting. "You can't stay here, either. The place is closed. I know what I'll do..." At the sink, I turned on the water and flung cold water at him. His green eyes blinked open. "Hey, there," I said.

He wiped the water off his face, staggering to his feet. "I... I... I gotta go home."

"Wait a second," I said, clutching his arm, steadying him. "Where do you live?"

"Um... uh..." He pulled away from me, wavering back and forth on his feet, scratching the back of his head. "I moved... um... I'm...uh... I... live in... in Bangor, I think. Yeah, I live in Bangor. Two months... Bangor."

Despite his slurred speech, I could tell he wasn't from Maine. His accent was more Bostonian. Bangor was in the same county as Millinocket, our current location, but an hour and a half away. I actually considered driving him home at this time of night. "Where in Bangor?"

"I... I don't know... Hmm... where are my damn keys?" He reached inside the pocket of his swim trunks and removed a pair of keys. "Ah-ha! Found 'em."

"You can't drive like this," I said. "You'll kill yourself or someone else."

"I'll be fine." He hiccupped, bumping into the sink as he headed unsteadily to the door. I snagged his car keys from him and shoved them in my front jeans pocket.

"Hey, I need those," he said.

"I'm just holding onto them for now. Don't worry. I'll give them back when you're sober."

He tripped over his feet and would have fallen to the floor if I hadn't caught him. I draped his arm over my shoulder and led him out of the bathroom. He didn't put up much of a fight. "I usually don't drink, you know. I don't know what happened." His speech was slurred and indiscernible at times. "Wow, beautiful, you're tall. How tall are you?"

"Six-two," I laughed, amused that he called me beautiful. "How tall are you?"

"Five-nine. That's short, isn't it?"

"No, I don't think so."

"You're just being nice. I think I know you. Have we met?"

"Yes. We met earlier. I was your river guide."

"Oh yeah. I kinda remember. Did I go white water rafting today?"

"Yes. Well... I guess you could call it yesterday now."

I practically carried him out of the restaurant. He could barely stand on his feet. As I locked the front door, the man fell to the ground. "I think I had too much to drink," he said, sitting cross-legged on the front step.

"You think?" I replied, lifting him to his feet. I still wasn't sure where I was taking him.

"People in Maine are so fucking nice. You're a nice guy. Are you married?"

"No," I said, trying not to laugh. He was kind of funny and a happy drunk. "How much did you have to drink?"

"A few beers. That place makes the best blueberry beer. Have you had one of them? I only had a few or more. Maybe more. Not sure."

The man dragged his feet as I held him up, making our way to my black Jeep. "This isn't my car," he said.

"Nope. It's mine," I said, opening the passenger's side door. "In you go."

He plopped into the seat, relying on me to swing his legs into the car. "I love you," he said as I fastened his seatbelt. "Where are we going, sweetheart?"

It's a good thing I wasn't an asshole; otherwise, I would have found his words offensive. "You like men, huh?" I said as if it wasn't obvious by now.

"I love men. Too much. Where are we going again?"

"To my house... or I can drop you off at the police station if you want."

"No! Don't drop me off there! You wouldn't do that, would you? Let's go to your house. We'll have fun."

Fun? I wondered what he meant by 'fun.' I had a pretty good idea. I got in my car, second guessing myself. Was I out of my mind? This guy was a complete stranger, and I was prepared to take him home with me. My downfall was that I trusted everyone. I was also stupidly naive. After spending seven hours with this man earlier on the raft, he seemed like a decent guy. He gave me no reason not to trust him. Lots of people made bad decisions, like drinking too much. That didn't mean he was untrustworthy. I considered letting him sleep in the barn with the horses, but I didn't want him to pass out alone in there and wake up more confused and frightened.

As I drove down the dark country road, the man opened the window and stuck his head out like he desperately needed air. "I love the smell of country air," he said.

"All I smell is a dead, rotting moose."

He burst out into laughter as if I was joking, but I wasn't joking. There was a dead, decaying moose in the woods. "Thank you for driving me home," he said, patting my arm. He sent warm chills down my spine.

"I'm not driving you home. You don't know your address."

"So I'm staying with you in East Bumfuck?"

"I don't know what you mean by that. I live in Chester."

"It feels like we're driving to East Bumfuck, though."

"I think you need to be quiet right now or I'm going to drop you off on the side of the road."

"Nah, you wouldn't do that, But I'll be quiet now. I promise. Night-night." He closed his eyes, leaning against the door. He dozed off as I carefully made my way home. I hated driving this time of night. I drove twenty miles an hour, clenching the steering wheel, hoping I wouldn't spot a deer or a buck. By the time I turned into the unmarked road that led to my cabin, the man was sound asleep. Two hundred feet away, my dad and grandmother slept in the farmhouse. Trees blocked the view of both the barn and farm.

"We're here," I said, nudging the man awake. After all this time, I still hadn't asked him to repeat his name. Other things were on my mind.

He opened his eyes and stared straight ahead at the cabin. "Are you going to kill me?" he asked.

"What?" I never knew what this man was going to say.

"I feel like I'm on the set of Deliverance or Wrong Turn. Have you seen Wrong Turn? It's about a family of deranged inbred cannibals who live in the sticks of West Virginia. Their faces are all distorted and shit. They hunt people like animals. This cabin reminds me of theirs." I hadn't seen either of those movies, although I'd heard about Deliverance.

"Do I look like a deformed cannibal?"

"No. You're beautiful. Maybe you're like Christian Bale in American Psycho. He was super handsome, like Ted Bundy."

"I'm not going to kill you. If you keep talking, then maybe I will."

"Oh, shit. I'm so fucked." As he opened the car door, he tumbled out, landing in the dirt. As he groaned, I helped him back up and draped his arm over my shoulder again, leading him to the front door. Stumbling into the cabin, he laughed, wrapping his arms around my waist as I closed and locked the door. "Mmm... you smell good," he said, hugging me from behind as he breathed into my neck.

"I'm going to get you some water and then you're going to bed."

"Yeah, let's go to bed together."

"You're sleeping on the sofa couch," I said. Under different circumstances, perhaps I would have let myself flirt and accept this man's advances. I had a hard time fighting him off. Kissing my neck, he slipped his hands up my shirt. I grabbed his hands and pushed them down and away.

"I'm sorry. I'll be good," he said.

"Stay right there," I said, heading to the couch. "Don't move."

"I won't move. I promise."

As I tossed the pillows off the couch, I heard footsteps or some kind of movement. "I can hear you moving," I said, turning the couch into a bed. He grasped a clump of my hair and yanked my head back, kissing me full on my mouth. I'd never kissed a man before. In fact, I'd barely kissed anyone. Now wasn't the time to explore my sexuality, although I was tempted. The man was too incapacitated to give consent. I'd never take advantage of someone in a compromised position. But it seemed like he was the one trying to take advantage of me. I reminded myself that he was drunk and didn't know what he was doing.

"Whoa," I said, pushing him away. "You need to go to sleep."

"I don't want to go to sleep. You're so beautiful. Please come to bed with me. I think I love you."

"We just met. You don't love me. You don't even know me. You're drunk and need to go to sleep. Wait here, okay? I just need to get some sheets. You can borrow a pair of pajamas. Don't move. I mean it."

"I'm sorry I upset you. I'll be good. I mean it this time."

I left the man in the living room while I went upstairs to the loft to retrieve some sheets and pajamas. When I returned, I found him naked and lying on his back on the unmade sofa bed. He didn't budge as I brought a blanket over his beautiful naked body. Under different circumstances, I would have admired his toned, flat stomach and sexy dark hair around his belly button and below. His thighs were as muscular as his calves. I looked forward to talking to him when he was sober. I wondered if he'd remember anything about tonight.

"Good night," I said as if he were awake. and could hear me. "My bedroom's upstairs if you need me, and the bathroom's down the hall."

I left a glass of water on the end table before going to the bathroom to wash up for bed. I didn't hear a peep out of him all night.

A/N Thanks again for reading. This is a very, very rough draft.