He stands in front of me -- perfect and still, the soft light from the window playing on his muscles, giving them subtle shading, highlighting the definition of his chest and arms, his legs, the wetness of hair. His eyes are locked to mine, and I can not pull away from his gaze. I feel him touch me with his eyes; he doesn't move, yet I felt his caress. I feel the heat of my blood surging as I will him to bring himself to me....

"Bring it...bring it to me..." I begged.

"Aargh! Ten!" grunted the portly woman in the electric-lime body suit fighting with the pecs machine. She was sweating profusely.

"All right! Great work, Mrs. Nelson!" I said, bringing myself back to earth and discreetly adjusting myself. She noticed and let the weights go with a crash.

"Gregory," Mrs. Nelson said coyly. "My name's Ginny! We've been workin' so hard together, we can surely drop the formalities!" I smiled weakly, feeling like Dustin Hoffman with Mrs. Robinson on a very bad day.

I checked the clock. Good, it was noon on the dot. Session over. And time enough for me to shower before I met Andrew for lunch.

Andrew would be late, of course. He says he gets it from his mother -- she loves to make a grand entrance -- but I swear, Andy's body clock runs about a half hour behind everybody else's. One thing you could always count on: Andy's never early, which is great in the sack -- but not so great when you're meeting him for lunch. It drove me nuts when we were together. I wonder how Eric puts up with it? Mister Perfection??? Se–or I-don't-have-a-sense-of-humor-about-myself Lewis?

I let the cold water pour over me, cooling my skin and my mind. I was horny as hell thinking about Mike. 'Come on, Greg, Heās straight -- leave it!' Then again, when did a straight guy ever stop me? One of my most memorable relationships was with a straight boy. Todd was fun, and beautiful, sensitive. He had a girlfriend. I got screwed -- the good way, and then the bad. Yeah, that was a bitch to get over.

*****

'Ah, dangerous waters, treading in the "straights of Los Angeles.' I thought to myself as I dialed my voice mail from the restaurant. "You have one message," the voice mail lady said. "To review your messages, please press "1".

'Let it be him let it be him let it be him,' I chanted in my head.

"Hi, it's me." (IT WAS HIM!) You know, the naked guy. Uh, listen, thanks for letting me crash at your place. Let me know about the apartment......"I nearly melted.

*****

"So you gonna call him back?" asked Andy over Caesar Salad.

"Yeah, Iām setting him up to meet Fran at Mocha Daze. To talk about the apartment."

"Bullshit," he said, and crunched on a crouton. Oh, it's going to be this kind of lunch, is it? I decided to change the subject.

"You sure about moving in with Eric?" I poked back.

"Absolutely! It's the best thing that ever happened to me... us!" he said -- with vigor.

"Bullshit," I said and slurped down the last air pocket of my diet cola.