It’s rough, she said. For snugglers, she told my raised eyebrow. Summer, I mean. I mean, sometimes it’s just too hot to touch skin. But then, she sleeps too soundly to know there are many nights in even August when you can feel the temperature drop, becoming more than cool and far less than hot as a storm moves in from the northwest with a promise of pleasures for the senses carried on the breeze that’s wrapped in the secret scents of rain and ozone, and if you’re not lucky enough to be sharing the night, the air is colder than the laughing moon.