**Tom**
I didn't want to admit that Sandra had done me any favors by interrupting Gabe and I on the couch, but really she had. If she hadn't charged in, I don't think we would have stopped until we were both naked and sated. And while I would have cheered for that kind of release, I don't think I was ready for the fallout that comes with impulsive actions.
Someone in college had once joked that I would have to plan ahead before I spontaneously combusted.
If that person had seen me on the couch with Gabe, half-crazed with pent-up frustration, ready to chew his clothes off to get to him, they would have laughed themselves silly. Gabe just did that to me, every time I saw him, wherever we were. In a way, I felt drawn to him like a planet orbiting the sun. And in a completely different way, I also felt like I was stalking my prey. The contradictions that didn't really seem at adds in my head made me feel a little dizzy.
Until now, I had never even considered a serious relationship. My past experiences had definitely been casual in nature. I know that a few of the guys I'd been with wanted more from me, and one of them had been pretty determined to start something lasting. But it hadn't really worked out. One former -- whatever-you-would-call-him, Chad figured that if I wanted to be with him, and I could just change parts of my personality to suit him, we could build a life together. I realized that if I had to morph into someone different, then it wasn't really me that Chad wanted. It wasn't that I thought there was anything wrong with long-term partners, or that I didn't want one, I just hadn't met anyone that triggered those kinds of feelings in me. Now that I had, I knew that casual was not going to be enough.
From our conversations, I knew Gabe experiences were at least a little different from mine. He called them 'flings' which sounds so carefree, but baffled me. He had been friends with his previous lovers first and then they seemed to just evolve into more than friends. After they split, he seemed to go back to being friends with them. (I could never seem to do that.) When we talked, he never seemed to regret his relationships and he never seemed to have wanted anything else than what he'd had. What I didn't know was what he wanted now, with me.
The more time I spent with Gabe, the more time I wanted to spend with him. And this was the most unusual and totally unique part of our friendship, as far as I was concerned. Usually I needed to escape from people after a while and find a quiet corner and a good book. Now I didn't feel right unless I knew Gabe was nearby. I liked to hear him mumble to himself while he worked and moved from room to room Hell, I hardly minded when he interrupted me and just started talking about whatever was rolling through his mind.
If he didn't want to sleep with me, fine. (It wasn't fine at all, but I would accept it for argument's sake.) If he did, but he didn't want to stay with me and at least try to make a long-term relationship work, well I could live with that too. Either way, I would have to stop seeing him, since I was sure that I couldn't be 'just friends' with him anymore. It would be awful and I could hardly imagine cutting off contact with him, even after knowing him only a little over three weeks. But if I slept with him first, and then found out that an LTR wasn't going to happen, it would just hurt a lot worse. That fear was what had kept me from trying to go further with him already.
In the end, Sandra probably did me a favor, though of course I'll never tell her that! Hopefully I could get this resolved with Gabe on Thursday. God did I despise anything that even resembled 'a talk'. Any time someone said the words: 'we have to talk,' I would rather eat glass. But I had to do something, I had to know what would happen. Otherwise, I would have to be locked into the loony bin. The next few days might just drive me completely around the bend. I thought about him all the time, fantasized about being with him, imagined what his body looked like, felt like and tasted like. No wonder I avoided this sort of attachment; I was seriously losing my mind.
Work had been my only respite from all of this maudlin brain work. The company I worked for, and my work-group especially had landed a huge project. Since a lot of the initial planning had been my idea, my boss had decided to see if I could head up the group and manage the whole thing. It was a big step, one that took me away from purely technical tasks and would force me to spend more time and energy managing people and the project. While people-skills aren't always my strength, my boss thought it was time to see what I could do. The last week or so at work had been intense as I planned for our launch meeting and the entire project. When I immersed myself in this new challenge, I could escape some of the uncertainties and fluttering butterflies of my feelings for Gabe.
If I had to be in touch with all my feelings, all of the time, I would go wacko-bananas.
**Gabe**
On Thursday I parked Tom's car at Tonio's and walked over to the Frisbee Park around 6pm. Since I had tons of stuff to schlep around and only a bike to do it with, Tom had generously offered to lend me his car. It was thoughtful of him to offer his car, given that I had tons of stuff to get over to Isabelle's in order to hang my pieces for the art show. When I tried to thank him, though, he just waved it aside, as if it was totally normal that he would inconvenience himself for me.
Since the night that Sandra interrupted us, Tom and I hadn't spent much time together, and I was trying hard not to read too much into it. All of his words sounded right: he was crazy busy at work with a big meeting coming up, and I should focus on finishing up for the show at Isabelle's. It wasn't that he was wrong, or even inconsiderate. Rather it was my fear eating away at me. What if I had finally found a man that could be more than *just for fun* and he was already tired of me? In a twisted way, it would serve me right. I had certainly walked away from a few nice guys in the past. It probably was my cosmic turn to have someone walk away from me.
Once I got to the Park, I looked around and found Amy hanging out with a few of the other wives/husbands/partners/whatevers of the players. It had taken me a while to remember the names of the core players and even longer figure out all their attachments. According to Amy, I was still doing better than Tom, who had stop trying to remember a long time ago. Amy was wearing a pretty, flowy kind of dress that looked very nice in the warmer weather we'd been having. She waved at me when she saw me walking and motioned that I should join her.
"Gabe," Amy crooned as she held up her arms to give me a hug. "How's the favorite man in my life?" The delivery of this greeting was a little dramatic and I knew she was doing to help include me in a conversation already under way.
"Uh oh," I replied and I wrinkled my brow. "What did Henry do now? If I'm your favorite, then he must be in some serious trouble." The rest of the group laughed and welcomed me. I continued, "Okay, spill. What's he done?" I'll admit I was expecting some minor but annoying infraction like leaving the seat up or forgetting their anniversary.
Maria from the other side of the group spoke up, "He's going to England for two weeks."
"Without her," someone else added.
With a swivel, I turned a looked straight at Amy, trying to see just what her true feelings might be. This might be a public chat, but I was sure that her mood was a little more serious than she was letting on.
Amy waved a hand and dismissed it all. "It's a great opportunity for a couple for conferences. He's presenting something or other and it will look perfect on his resume. Besides," Amy said, laying a soothing hand on my arm. "I told him to bring me back a fabulous present and I would be fine."
I stared at Amy hard and I decided to save my 'liar liar, pants on fire' for a more private time when I could find out the whole story.
Just then, Tom jogged over to my side, a little out of breath. "Hey, why don't we go over and grab a table, since we have to leave early?" He greeted everyone quickly and explained that we would go ahead to the restaurant and save a table. Tom and I had to get over to the café in order to paint the wall and hang my work tonight. If we spent all evening with the Frisbee folks, we would never get it all done.
Amy decided to come with us since she was feeling a little tired and wanted to sit down.
The three of us began walking to Tonio's, Tom and I on either side of Amy. Once we were well out of earshot everyone else, Tom took her hand and said, "Amy-honey, it's not four months in Africa and he's not Scott."
