I saddle in that direction, trying not to appear obvious when -- Oh, no ...
"Hey, Fitzgerald," I snarl in my most macho voice, "keep out of that issue of Men's Health, we all know what you're lookin' at!"
He stammers, turns, sees it's me and then gives me a punch in the arm. He's still strong. We chat for a while, talk about how nice dinner was. Mark tells me over and over what a great guy Eric is -- and how lucky I am. I remind him, jokingly, I could have been his and we move to the cooking section.
"I'm looking for Martha's new cookbook."
"You know her, you know Martha Stewart?"
I lie. I tell him we met at the Catering Company, I'm so ashamed of where I am with my career, I find myself, if not lying a lot this afternoon -- embellishing to the point where I'm practically doing a private party for B. Streisand... I can't help it. Mark's gotten exactly where he planned. He's successful, he's making great money, he's respected at the law firm and where am I? What good is my degree in Sociology doing at Royal F----- Catering?
"So....So, Andrew....where does this leave us?"
"What do you mean," I ask.
I look at this guy, this guy from my past. I can't believe we were once in each other's arms. I mean, you can usually use "sense memory" or something but it's been so long, I don't remember his touch, I look at his arms, his huge, gorgeous arms and I move my eyes further up to his neck, his chin, his mouth, his amazing mouth from a God, his eyes....he hits a spot so far inside me, I'm lost. I'm lost.
I hear his voice from far away. I see his lips moving in slo-motion, I hear a distant warm rumble of thunder and suddenly....
I kiss him.
There -- in my favorite book store in WeHo. Kissing him, against the travel section. Kissing and kissing and kissing....then I say, "Eric took a new job today."
His taste! I forgot his taste! It's exactly the same, and he murmurs into me, "that's great."
"I know...financial security," I gasp and we're -- kissing, kissing, kissing. From the fog, others looking at us, giggling, smiling, jealousy from that guy over my left shoulder --
"I have no idea what you mean by that question, Mark. I don't know where this leaves us. All I know is that I want you."
He breaks it, he breaks the kiss. I'm dizzy. "Let's go. Right now."
"No, Mark."
He grabs my face, moves in so damn close. Kisses me hard, almost too hard. But good. "Don't think, Andrew. Do. Don't let this go, move. Move. Now." He pulls on my lip with his teeth.
"Mark."
"Go."
"Mark, I...."
"Go, Andrew. Now."
