Spencer tried not to stare at Darrin as the taxi pulled away from the curb and gave the driver the Wilshire's address.
Darrin Mathews.
Never in his wildest dreams would he ever have thought that he would be sitting
thisclose
to Darrin Mathews. But then, he never would have imagined that he was
thisclose
to becoming the Assistant District Attorney, quite possibly the youngest in the city's known history.
He tried not to laugh as well. He knew that he was vain. Dense Spence, the wild-haired nerd had evolved and Spencer H. Carlson, III had emerged from the ashes. Where Dense was shy and unsure, Spencer was confident and eloquent. The cloak of Dungeons and Dragons and Tubular Bells was cast aside in favor of Elizabeth George and Jeff Lorber. And this reunion was the final stroke in his grand masterpiece of reinvention. The chance to show everyone what the lame-ass Star Wars fanatic had become: a successful, powerful lawyer.
And so he had packed, excited to carve yet another notch on his belt of adulthood, a chance to rub his good fortune into the faces of those who had treated him so badly. But somehow, the air seemed to have been let out of his balloon once he saw Darrin. He had known who Darrin was as soon as he'd seen him. No one who graduated that year could forget the Mathews twins. Darrin, the gymnast with the perfect delts and fat-free gluts and his exciting sister, Mickie, voted Most Likely To Be Naked. And she didn't disappoint. No one forgot the commencement ceremony.
"So what do you do?"
Spencer watched the wide blue eyes swing around from the passing scenery to him. "I'm in the entertainment industry."
"Ah." Spencer shook his head, understanding yet not understanding. "You're an attorney, aren't you?"
Darrin laughed. "What would make you think that I was a shyster?"
"Hey!"
"Sorry!" Darrin held his hands up. "I didn't mean you."
Spencer smiled, patting Darrin's denim-clad leg and quickly retracting his touch. "Don't worry, Dare, I'm used to it. Everyone just
loves
a lawyer."
"Bet the chicks do."
"Yeah." Spencer huffed in disappointment. "Don't I know it."
Darrin sized up his former classmate with a newfound sense of confusion. "Is that a problem?"
Spencer didn't answer for a moment. He was back in his hometown and he was the big man on campus. He had a hunter green Aston Martin and a lilac Bentley in the garage of his $430,000 home. He had ducks and swans in his manmade pond and quarter horses wandering his twenty thousand acre spread. He had straight teeth, whitened and capped and his skinny body was thick with sinew and muscle and yet ... no woman had caught his eye nor satisfied him. "Can I be honest with you?"
Darrin shrugged, accepting the cold Tsingtao. He didn't really care ... did he? "Sure."
"I ... uh, I don't really like girls."
Darrin laughed. "What, cooties?"
Spencer dropped down onto the couch next to him, thumbing the remote into life. "Not unless they're permanent." He gave an exasperated sigh. "I'm gay, Dare."
"Oh." Darrin swallowed half of his beer, deep in thought.
What the hell am I supposed to say now?
Spencer saved him the trouble. "Thanks for your pity!" He laughed, tossing the remote on the table and sitting back, looping his long legs ankle over ankle as the New York Giants sought to make mincemeat of an unknown team.
"I didn't mean ... "
"Ah, fuck off!" The lawyer laughed, clapping Darrin on the back. "It's my party and I'll cry if I want to." Both men chuckled for a moment, Spencer pausing to push the hair out of his eyes and noticing that Darrin was watching the action. "So, how about you?"
"Uh, me?"
"Yeah. How's your love life?"
"Great." Darrin stuttered uncomfortably, then stood. "Listen, Spence, I'd better get going."
"Already? You just got here."
"I know, but I have a million things to do and Mickie will kill me if I don't pick up her dry cleaning like I promised."
"Ah." Spencer took a long swig, following Darrin to the door and watching his ass. Something was bothering him, no, not bothering, actually. Puzzling him. Why had Darrin suddenly decided to bolt when he'd started talking about being gay? Maybe because he was gay himself? That thought made Spencer's cock leap in his pants. He'd give
anything
to fuck this juicy piece of meat. "Wanna have dinner tomorrow?"
Otto Bahn would have said yes. Darrin Mathews waffled, his mouth opening and closing like a fish stuck on a hook. "Why?"
His response intrigued Spencer. "Why not?" He paused, staring at the man. "Are you afraid of being seen with me?"