Boys In Summer
“I’m going to have a beer. Then we’ll do whatever you want.”
Christopher shook his head slightly. “All right.”
David stood up; a pristine napkin wilted off his lap to the table. “Let me go find him.” He disappeared behind the bar into the kitchen beyond. Christopher counted off the seconds, then minutes, waiting for them to return.
When David emerged he gave Christopher an a-ok. “He’ll be back in a sec.”
“Where was he?”
“In the kitchen. Reading Hemingway. Who would’a thought, huh?”
The couple sat passively as the rumpled man cleared the table, asked if they wanted anything else. David ordered two beers with a wink and a boyish grin.
“You’re such a flirt.”
“I thought you liked that.”
“When it was me.”
“It’s always been you, Chris.”
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