I'm in the middle of an attempt to jump out of the bed when a pair of arms hook themselves around my waist and pull me back down. For a guy who weighs what Spot Conlon does, which is approximately two and a half pounds, he's awfully strong. I fall back to the bed and lay a minute, my eyes wide with panic. Spot just lays on his side, looking at me.

"Spot, I think you should leave."

He sighs. "We need to talk."

"We don't need to talk. You need to leave and I need to go home to my wife." I close my eyes and scrub my hands over my face, shaking my head.

"No."

I roll onto my side and pull the blanket up to my waist. "What do you mean, no?"

"I mean no. I'm going to talk, and you're going to listen. I'm not leaving."

I have the urge to shoot myself right now. Unfortunately, my gun is locked up tight in the drawer of my nightstand at home, which seemed convenient when I put it there, but right now is proving to be quite the grievance. "What do you have to say?"

"I'm in love with you."

"Oh, Jesus." I pull the blanket up over my head.

"Race, I'm serious." He grabs the blanket and pulls it back down, looking me in the eye. "I've been in love with you since the day I met you."

"That was almost twenty years ago, Spot."

"You think that matters? Stuff like this doesn't just go away, Race. I thought it had, but then I saw you yesterday and... well, it all came back." He sighs and lays back beside me, staring up at the ceiling. "I love you, Race."

"I'm sorry." This is awkward. And a little bit scary.

"No, you're not." He looks over at me, his eyes sad but with a little glint in there somewhere. "You've got feelings for me, too."

"I do not... where the hell do you get that?" I shake my head. "I'm not gay, Spot."

"I beg to differ. You were rather compliant last night."

"Yeah, but I was..."

"Sober?" He smirks. "Lonely? Horny? You slept with a man last night, Mr. Higgins."

"It was a one-time thing." Panic is rising in my chest again, and I feel like I might just die right here.

"Was it? Are you sure?" Spot rolls over on top of me, grinning down at me.

"Spot, stop it." My protests and weak, half-assed attempts to get him off of me are answered with a laugh and a kiss. I lay back and resign myself to it, and soon, find myself unwittingly kissing him back.

It's kind of an awkward feeling, being naked and having another man (who is also lacking in the clothing department) laying on top of you... and I'm more than a little ashamed to admit that it's not entirely bad.

What is bad, however, is the fact that all thoughts of my wife flutter away as Spot gets to work.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Spot rolls off me and lays on top of the blankets, panting. He grins at me. "You know," he says, catching his breath, "for a guy who's supposedly straight as an arrow, you aren't so bad."

I sigh and roll onto my side, facing away from him. I feel him looking at the back of my head, and I close my eyes as he presses his lips to my shoulder and gets up.

"Are you leaving?"

"I might as well." I hear the jangling of his belt as he tugs his pants on, the rustling of his shirt. He walks over to my side of the bed and picks up my cell phone.

"What are you doing?" I sit up and pull the blanket over my lap in modesty.

"Putting your number in my phone and vice versa." He smiles at me and for once, there isn't a mocking or menacing quality in it. It's just a smile. "We're going to keep in touch this time."

"Oh. Um." I scratch my head. "Okay."

He finishes with the phones and looks at me. "Hey. You asked me yesterday what I do now."

"Yeah."

"Um, I run a music shop. I sell instruments and music, and I give lessons. It's not a chain or anything, but I do pretty well for myself." Spot shoves his hands in his pockets and shrugs.

"Wow. I'm glad to hear you're doing good." I smile a little bit. "That's really cool, Spot."

"Yeah." He smiles. "Okay. Well, I'm gonna go." He leans down and kisses me and then he's gone, and I'm left kind of wishing he'd come back.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

My phone rings Sunday night as I'm laying in bed. I look at the caller ID, sighing. Caroline cell. I close my eyes and press "answer."

"Hello?"

"Hey, handsome." I hear a smile in her voice. "Are you ready to come home?"

I sigh. "More so than you'd think."

Caroline laughs a little bit. "You sound tired."

"I've had a busy day."

"Wanna tell me about it?"

I shrug. "Nothing important happened. Just... running around the city. It's a lot of work."

"Ah. Well, you'll be home tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah. I have to check out by eleven... I figure I'll leave around nine, maybe nine-thirty, and that'll get me home between eleven and eleven-thirty, depending on traffic."

"Good. Well, I'll be at work, but I know I'll see you when I get home. I'm glad you'll be home. I miss you." She sighs happily, a dreamy kind of sound that only makes me sad. "Our bed's kind of weird to sleep in alone."

"I know. I'll be home in the morning." I look at the clock on the nightstand and yawn. "Well... I think I'm gonna go, I need to get to bed if I'm going to get an early start in the morning."

"Okay, honey. I love you."

I feel like I'm frozen. It's not a good feeling. I can't move or breathe or speak.

"Tony? Are you still there?"

"What? Oh, yeah. I... sorry. Loveyoutoobye." I hang up the phone and hit myself in the forehead with it.