"You grip the water bottle."
"It's that soft type plastic."
"You grip it. You choke it."
"It's a matter-of-fact thing."
"It's sexual tension."
"It's everyday nervousness in a life."
"It's sexual tension," he said.
He told Ingram to reach over with his free hand and fish the sunglasses out of the suit jacket on the hanger nearby. The associate managed to do this. Eric put on the glasses.
"Days like this."
"What?" she said.
"My mood shifts and bends. But when I'm alive and heightened, I'm super-acute. Do you know what I see when I look at you? I see a woman who wants to live shamelessly in her body. Tell me this is not the truth. You want to follow your body into idleness and fleshiness. That's why you have to run, to escape the drift of your basic nature. Tell me I'm making it up. You can't do that. It's there in your face, all of it, the way it rarely shows in any face. What do I see? Something lazy, sexy and insatiable."