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And man, did the new philosophy get shit done.
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.
The door to 3C opened before I even had time to consider what I’d say. It had been four or five years since I’d last seen Adrian. I didn’t even have an icebreaker.
“Oh my God! You’ve gotta be kidding me!”
Luckily, I didn’t need one.
“Harper!”
A smile lit up his whole face as Adrian swept me into two very long arms. Those arms were a lot thicker and stronger than I remembered them, but they still folded perfectly around me, just as they’d done a thousand times before.
It was a great hug, a fantastic hug. The most familiar hug in the universe.
“Hi…” I mumbled into his chest. It came out with a muffled chuckle as he squeezed me even tighter.
By the time Adrian pushed me back to get a good look at me, I was already in his apartment. The door had swung shut. I was enveloped in warmth, surrounded by coziness. He took my coat and led me further inside.
“Sorry to just show up like this,” I said sheepishly, “but I—”
“Don’t even,” he interrupted me solemnly. The look in his starfire blue eyes was almost deadly serious. “Time doesn’t matter between us. Remember?”
I remembered. It was something we’d said often, growing up. Something we’d sworn to each other while lying on the beach at night, looking up at the stars, wondering where the world might take us. Back then, we’d decided that no matter what paths we’d eventually go down, we would always be in each other’s lives.
So much for that plan.
I looked up again and Adrian had slipped into the kitchen, so I snooped nosily around the living room. He had a beautiful place, dimly lit by some overhead lights with a couple of scented candles flickering here and there. There was soft music drifting in. A soothing warmth, emanating from a modern electric fireplace set flush into one of the walls. The place was cozy and awesome and much more conducive to women than his original man-cave apartment, which had been decorated and shared by a few dozen fraternity brothers.
“Harper…” I heard him repeat with a happy sigh. “I can’t believe you’re actually here.”
He stood in the doorway to the kitchen, holding a pair of very full wine glasses. I hadn’t even heard the popping of a cork.
“Yeah, well, I just… I wanted to…”
Again, I had no words planned out. I was always better just shooting from the hip. Right now though, it was impossible to do anything but stare. And that’s because I was finally getting a good overall look at my ex-best friend.
Holy fucking hell.
Adrian was still tall and handsome, but now, years later, it seemed his good looks were on steroids. He had a strong, chiseled jawline. Acres upon acres of luscious, shoulder-length blond hair. His tanned, flawless face broke into a million-dollar smile, behind a pair of plump, beautiful lips I remembered kissing over and over again… but only for one single, fateful night.
My estranged friend was absolutely gorgeous, to the point where his looks were distracting. But looking at his body? Shit, that was even worse. Since the last time I’d seen him, Adrian had built his body into something akin to a work of art. His arms, his chest, even his flat, taut stomach — all of it rippled with hard, lean muscle, just beneath the thin fabric of his cotton shorts and T-shirt.
He caught me looking and laughed.
“I guess I look different.”
I tried to speak and nearly choked to death.
“Ummm… yeah! You think?”
He walked over and handed me my wine. His smile never faded though.
“I got involved in modeling,” he shrugged. “Turns out it pays the bills. I do other stuff too, but before any of that…”
He lifted his glass my way. I toasted him back.
“Here’s to old times” he said.
