“No? I always thought you’d have a bunch of kids.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. You’re a nurturing person. Plus, being a doctor, I just figured that’s what they do.”
I laugh softly. “That’s fair. Almost all my colleagues are married, and many are on their second or third, but me? I’m your typical workaholic. Only enough time for the occasional hookup, and even that has fallen off lately.” A memory from last night flashes through my mind, instantly heating my body.
“Is it hard to meet people? In your circles.”
“It’s easy to meet people. Even easier to hook up, but if you want quality, I imagine it’s the same regardless of sexuality. People are people.”
“Very true.” Van nods.
“What about you? Do you want kids?”
“No fucking way.” He visibly shudders. “Not after the things I’ve seen. I could never let them out of my sight and that’s not healthy.”
“Makes a lot of sense.”
“Teachers, family members, parents of friends, clergy, even a damn policeman. Our kids are supposed to trust adults, but they can’t even trust their own parents sometimes. It’s disgusting, but man, kids are strong. They are so resilient. I’ve heard stories that broke me come out of the mouths of little fucking kids who should never know that kind of stuff exists, much less experienceit firsthand. If I had a kid and someone touched them wrong, I wouldn’t rest until they were dead.”
He turns to look out the window for a moment, then drags his hand through his hair. “Sorry. That was intense.”
“Understandable. I get it.”
“Anyway.” Vanian grins. “Look at us. Two men approaching middle age with no kids and no spouses. We could get up to some trouble.”
“We could.”
Vanian messes with my radio while we argue over music as I finish the drive into Madison. I guide the car into a parking space in front of the diner, and Vanian gets out, whistling low.
“Man, talk about a blast from the past,” he says.
“Right? It looks the same.”
“Awesome.”
We enter the diner, and I watch Vanian glance around like a kid in a toy store. He looks so happy and relaxed, and I imagine it’s been a long time since he could be those things.
“How many?” the hostess asks, wiping her hands on a towel.
“Just us two,” I say.
She grabs a couple of plastic menus and leads us to a booth. Gone are the cracked vinyl seats, replaced with new but still vintage looking material. The tables don’t wobble as much and the floor is less sticky, but other than that, it’s almost the same as it was more than twenty years ago.
Vanian slides into the booth, still glancing around. “Smells the same. You can’t paint over a smell like that.”
“No.” I chuckle. “The food hasn’t changed at all.”
“Nice.” He looks down at the menu, and I take the opportunity to admire him.
He’s still the best looking man I’ve ever seen, but maybe that’s just the old lingering crush still talking. I’ve had my share of good-looking guys share my bed over the years, but somethingabout Vanian always stood out. It could be the forbidden nature of it all. Knowing he’s straight and I could never have him probably added to my hopeless desire for him.
He looks up suddenly, his smile fading to something far sexier. “What?”
“What?”
“You were staring at me.”
