By the time we saw each other again, it had been a few months since I’d met Gareth, a 21-year-old college student.

I was a thirty-something divorce. We’d both been partying in another town and had met in a bar full of people getting drunk and hoping to get laid. I was being hit on by an older married man, and noticed that Gareth was listening to the conversation. Finally, when the man was momentarily distracted, Gareth leaned over and said, “You aren’t going to fall for any of that crap, are you?” I laughed, because here was this adorable young stud trying to save me from this married man. He took my hand and started walking away with me in tow. We didn’t sleep with each other that night, but a fire had been ignited in both of us that would have to be tended to sooner or later.