The roller rink's neon sign buzzed pink and blue across the nearly empty lot; the sign changing colors throughout the night but Erica had parked in the darkest corner behind the building, where the streetlamp barely reached and the music inside sounded like a heartbeat muffled by brick. Friday night had fizzled out early; only four other cars remained, all clustered near the front doors. Back here there was nothing but shadow, the sound of cicadas, and the soft tick of a cooling engine.
Aurora didn't wait for pleasantries. The second Erica killed the headlights she was already moving, climbing over the console with zero grace and all hunger, knees settling on either side of Erica's hips. The steering wheel pressed hard into her back and she loved it; loved the way it forced them closer, loved the way Erica's hands immediately slid under her shirt to grip bare skin.
