I drink a Bud Light, which is kind of refreshing after all the margaritas Jesse and I had in Puerto Vallarta.

I lean against the pool table as Allison angles over it, taking aim at the eight ball. She wears jeans and a thermal. Her dark hair is pulled back in a ponytail, which shakes behind her as she strikes the ball, knocking it into the corner pocket she called.

I applaud her victory.

“And all done while Remy was checking out my ass,” she says as she stands tall and turns around to Remy, who sits at a table against the wall beside the pool table.

He raises his hands—a clear surrender. “My apologies to the master,” he says.

Allison smiles and shakes her head. “Apology accepted,” she replies. “Now, I think Baxter and Eric owe us shots.”

“You got it,” I say before heading to the bar.

It’s seven of us altogether—the crew I was telling Jesse about—Allison, Baxter, Remy, Jax, Dexter, Will, and myself.

I love these guys to death. I can’t imagine a group that could get me the way they do, and it’s nice to see them again. We rarely get a chance to get together like this. It’s not like when we were in our late twenties and could slip away anytime for a late night of pool and drinks. Now it’s every few months. We all started as rebels, doing our own thing, and now we have cushy jobs and IRAs. It’s kind of amazing how far we’ve all come, though it makes sense because it’s clear that a bunch of like-minded, ambitious outcasts managed to find one another.

I return to the gang with whiskey shots and an extra two for our victors, Allison and Remy, and we all drink together.

We laugh and joke around some before breaking off into chats around the place.

It’s surreal being back in my real life again. Sad, in a way, because it makes what Jesse and I shared feel even more like it was all an incredible dream.

After Ty returned to my condo, even though I tried to stick around a little longer, tried to make it work and keep my cool around Jesse, the situation was too much for me.

It was so easy when it was just Jesse and me, but the awkwardness of having Ty around proved to be too overwhelming for my conscience, and after two days of uneasiness, I decided it would be best to return home.

I texted Jesse to let him know it wasn’t about him and that I needed to get away.

He said he understood and that he looked forward to getting together with me again.

I was totally serious that night at the restaurant when I said I wanted to see him again when he got back to Atlanta. But now, being back in my world in San Diego, my life feels so far removed from what happened back in Puerto Vallarta that I’m wondering if that’s actually going to happen. Is it something we said because we were caught up in the moment? Will he go back to his life and this new job and become so absorbed in that, he won’t have time for me? Or was he as serious as I was when he said he was interested in more?

This string of thoughts, along with so many others, bombards my brain.

As great as it is being here with my longtime friends again, I wish I could be spending the night with Jesse.

I’m consumed with thoughts about him…us…as I try to replay the most delicious of the experiences that transpired in our time together.

As our crew splits off into smaller groups, I head to the bar and catch up with the bartender for some time until he gets busy with some other customers. I watch the screen behind the bar, which plays the news. I feel my phone vibrate. Is it Jesse? I’m about to dig my hand into my pocket to find out when Allison sits on the stool beside me.

“Your bottle’s looking a little empty,” she says, sliding another to me, which she must have ordered at one of the other bars, since she has a full bottle in her hand as well.

She reaches back and pulls the band out of her hair, letting her dark locks fall around her face. She pulls the band up to her wrist. Sighing, she looks the way she has on nights when it’s been just the two of us at her place, sitting on the couch, chatting about how fucked up the world is and how we wished we could make it better. Of course, now that she has a job with the State Department in child death investigations, she can do just that, though the horrors of what she deals with on a day-to-day basis don’t always make her the most cheerful companion in the world.

She takes a drink of her beer, and as she sets it back on the bar, says, “So you going to tell me what’s on your mind…or do I need to play a guessing game?”

I laugh. She looks me up and down in that way she has.

“What were you up to down in Puerto Vallarta? I have a feeling you had a little love affair.”

“What makes you say that?”

I don’t need to ask. I’m certain of the answer. She knows me that well.

“You have that look about you,” she says with narrowed eyes, like she’s inspecting me, trying to read me the way Jesse might try to. “Before you left, you looked all stressed and like it was just work, work, work. Now you seem refreshed.”

“Well, I was on vacation. Hitting the waves will do that.”

There’s suspicion in her expression. Her lips pull together, and even in the dim light, I can see her skepticism. “Then why do you seem so distracted?”

“You just said I seemed refreshed.”

“You do. You look distractedly refreshed…”

“Those shots are getting to you, I think,” I say with a smile as I take a sip of my beer.

She shakes her head. “I’m right, and you know it. I’ve seen you when you’re relaxed after vacation. This is something more. What’s his name? If you don’t tell me, I can ask Vanessa.”

“Well, if you ask Vanessa, she’ll tell you I accidentally booked at the same time that my son was there.”

“Oh. Well, I think it’s very inappropriate to be doing anything with a guy while your son’s around,” she says.

“He had to go home for a little while,” I say, annoyed more than anything, and it takes me a moment to realize I’ve been had…that I objected to my son being around, not to messing around with a guy.

“See!” she exclaims. “You did have time for a little love affair after all.”

“Allison, leave it.”

“Oh, I’ll leave it all right. Until I notice you’re getting really serious or something. You know I’m always very polite when you have a little fling here and there.”

She’s trying to read my expression, how I respond to the word, but I tense my jaw instinctively because it’s not just a fling. It was, yet I want it to be something else. I want to believe we’ll make good on that conversation about meeting up again when he returns. I’ve already decided I’m going to work from Atlanta starting next week to give him an opportunity to come by. I won’t push it too much, only enough to see if there is a chance we could pick back up where we left off.

“I have a funny feeling I’ll be hearing more about this,” Allison says.

“Why do you say that?”

She glances down at my pants and says, “Because the whole time we’ve been talking, you’ve had your hand on your phone like you’ve been dying to look at it.”

I hadn’t even realized that’s what I’d been doing, but I want to see if it was Jesse who texted before Allison sat down.

“Hey, Allison!” It’s Remy’s voice.

He approaches and slings his arms around both of us. “Dexter’s back there saying he can kick our asses at billiards.”

“Oh, does that hurt your big fat ego?” she asks, stroking her hand across his beer gut.

“Yes. Yes, it does,” he says with a smile.

She looks to me, her smile expanding. She’s that way whenever she’s around Remy. She glows. I knew it the moment she met him that he was the one for her. And I was fucking right.

I wonder if she’s getting a similar vibe off me. Not that I think Jesse’s the one…but…I obviously think there’s something there.

“I better go kick some ass,” she says.

“We better go kick some ass,” Remy insists.

“I was talking about yours.”

“Hey!”

She rolls her eyes. “Okay, okay. Just get over there so I can finish chatting with Eric about something.”

“Something?” Remy inquires.

“Yeah, our secret affair we’ve been having behind your back. Get out of here.”

He laughs before leaning in and offering a kiss, which she eagerly accepts, revealing her true interest despite how much she may bust his balls.

When he heads off, she rises from her stool and rests her hand on my shoulder. “Oh, I feel for you, Eric.”

“Why?”

“Whoever it is, he’s got a whole mess of trouble heading his way. I’ve known you for a long time, and I still don’t really know you. I love you to death, but you’re like a brick wall that won’t come down.”

“Don’t I know it. Probably why Casey didn’t want to—”

Her expression twists up. “Casey was a self-serving asshole who never gave a fuck about you.” She never did approve of him, from the beginning. “But this is different,” she goes on. “And whatever it is, I’m hoping for the best.”

“It was just a few days.”

“That’s how it all starts,” she says, turning and eyeing Remy, who’s regrouped with some of the guys in the adjoining room with the billiards tables.

“Sorry,” she says. “I’ll pretend we never had this talk so that you don’t have to feel like I’ve hit a nerve. You gonna come watch me kick some ass?”

“Sure.”

I start to get up, but she pushes her hand down on my shoulder, forcing me to stay in my seat.

“Uh-uh,” she says. “You should check your phone first.” She offers a warm smile before heading off.

This is why she’s my best friend. She gets me in a way no one else ever could. She doesn’t know everything about me. Hell, no one does.

Not that part of my past that I just wish I could bury, that still can crop up with something as simple as what Jesse did when he was in the shower with me. Sometimes not even that much. Someone standing too close to me in line at the grocery store or on the train is enough to bring back those feelings. A stray scent...or even so much as an image or sensation that reminds me of that place...that day.

And if those don’t do it, some cruel nightmare will.

It’s something that haunts me, but something I’ve learned to cope with, to handle on my own. I might not be the best at it, but I push on.

I’ve made it this long, and I take each experience one day at a fucking time.

Allison heads into the adjoining room to join the guys, and I pull out my phone and retrieve a message from Jesse.

It’s a picture of Jesse and Ty out at some club. His message reads: Having a blast.

That was really sweet of him, and it reminds me that I wish I was there with them. Such a stupid, childish thought to have about some kid I hooked up with a few times…but it was more than that.

We didn’t just fuck. We talked about our lives, about things I don’t share with a lot of people, and it sounded like things he doesn’t share with a lot of people either. There’s a part of me that can’t help but wonder, did we only share that much because we didn’t have anything to lose and because we knew we wouldn’t have to interact with each other every day? Does that even fucking matter when I really just want to see him again now?

I reply back with: Glad you guys are having fun. :) Although I really want to say: I miss your face and the way you say my name.

I join up with my crew, and we chat a little longer, play some more pool before I take an Uber back to my place.

I shower before getting into bed and checking to see if there’s another text from him.

There’s no reason he would have texted me back. It’s wishful thinking on my part. He’s probably out having a fantastic time with Ty, and I wonder if he’s thinking about me as much as I’m thinking about him.

My phone vibrates almost as soon as I set it down on the nightstand, and I hastily check it to discover it’s him.

Not even a text. He’s fucking calling.

I’m excited…eager… I can’t believe how thrilled I am about a stupid phone call. The younger version of myself would be smart and at least wait a moment before answering, but I feel like I’m too old for games.

“What are you doing calling this late?” is the first thing I say.

“I was thinking about you.”

He sounds so relaxed, at ease, and I can tell by the slight slur in his speech that a part of it is because he’s drunk, but I’ll take any excuse I can to talk to him again.

“Looked like you guys were having a great time.”

“Yeah. It was fun. We just got back. I’m lying in bed naked, feeling like I’m going to regret this in the morning.” There’s a shift in my crotch from hearing him mention he’s naked. Then there’s silence for a moment before he blurts out, “I wish you were here.”

His honesty disarms me.

“I wish I was there too.”

“What’d you do tonight?” he asks.

“Caught up with some friends.”

“Those guys you were telling me about?”

I smile, pleased he remembered. “Yeah. The same ones.”

“I missed your voice.”

This is the first time we’ve talked since I left, but his calling puts to rest those doubts in my mind about how Jesse feels about what happened.

It’s adorable that he called, and I’m glad he did. It gives me hope. Hope that I need to believe this isn’t all just in my head. Although, considering how much I’ve done in my life—hooked up with guys, developed feelings for them—I know that what I feel for Jesse is different than just lust. It started out that way, but it escalated very quickly. That’s why Allison was able to pick up on it.

I’m interested in getting to know more about him. I’m more interested than I would be with a casual hookup, because if I wasn’t, I sure as fuck wouldn’t be talking to him right now, putting my relationship with my son at risk even more than it already is.

“I miss your face,” I tell him, showing my own hand.

“Where are you?”

“In San Diego.”

“That’s so far away. You think you might be heading to your place in Atlanta anytime soon?”

There’s despair in his tone. I feel like we’re both giving away too much with how we’re acting, and I don’t care.

“I was planning on maybe having a trip out there next week,” I confess. “You know I can work from anywhere, so I might spend a little time down south. There’s someone I know who might be able to keep me company…down south.”

He snickers, emitting a low, almost-growling sound.

“I’m certain he would like to keep you company.”

His voice drips with charisma and charm, even more so than usual. I think it’s because he’s real good at sounding seductive after he’s had a couple of margaritas.

“You were talking about me, right?” His words more serious than before. So much so that I start laughing, and he asks, “What? I asked a serious question.”

“I think that’s really cute that you think I’d be talking about some other guy.”

“I really wanna see you again, and I think it’d be nice if you did wind up in Atlanta, but I also understand if you end up changing your mind because of what we talked about. I don’t wanna hurt your relationship with Ty.”

“Funny, I feel the same way with you as his friend, but the fact that we’re talking right now makes me think we’ve both passed the point of no return here.”

“Yeah,” Jesse says. “If I’m being totally honest, if you said no, I’d be kind of pissed.” He’s quiet a bit before adding, “I wanna keep talking to you, but I’m pretty sure I’m about to pass out.”

“Okay, then get on.

“I’ll call you when I get into town, and we’ll figure something out.”

“I’d really like that.”

“Okay, night.”

“Good night.”

I don’t want to hang up, but I force myself to.

What are we doing?

It hasn’t even been more than a week, and I feel like I’m already in too deep. Where is this all going to lead? Will it even work out? And what if it did? What would that mean for me and Ty? For Jesse and Ty?

So many questions, but I have been asking them all since this first began, and clearly, they won’t stop me.

This is something I’m going to have to go along with and play by ear. Something in my gut, something I trust, tells me that wrong as it feels, for so many goddamn reasons, there’s something so fucking right about it.