Page 15 of His Hungry Wolf

‘Make any progress with Claude?’

I had been honest with Claude when I told him that both Papa and I wanted him back. Sure, we each had our own reasons, but the desire was real.

If I wanted to figure my way out of the mess I was in with Claude, I was going to have to start with a few truths. Because on top of being gorgeous and a super athlete, he was also one of the smartest guys I knew.

He had to know that I wouldn’t have shown up out of the blue like I had just to offer him a workout. And if I was going to go from closeted-gay to well-adjusted gay, I had a lot of work to do. That work was going to start with Claude.

Crap – why was my life always such a drama? I guess I really was a stereotype. But that ended tonight.

Chapter 6

Claude

Having arrived at the diner early, I sat at a booth that faced the wall of glass and the door. Having seen the car he had driven away in, I knew what I was looking for. When it arrived, I felt a tightness in my chest and a lump in my throat.

I didn’t know why I felt like this, but I did. I would like to say that it was because of the inevitable confrontation we would have. But I knew that feeling. It would have felt like stress. I was feeling something else. Something I hadn’t felt in a while.

Waving to him when he turned my way, he smiled and came over. He looked way too happy to be here. Maybe Titus was right. Maybe this conversation was going in a direction I didn’t foresee. How did I feel about that?

“You’re here,” he said looking down at me from the other side of the table.

“I said I would be.”

“You did. And, you always do what you say you’re gonna do.”

“I try.”

Nodding with a grin on his face, Merri stared at me awkwardly.

“Are you going to sit?”

“Yeah, of course,” he said sliding beside me and again being awkward. “Hey, do you remember that pizza joint we used to go to?”

“Palermo’s?”

“That’s right, Palermo’s. We couldn’t get enough of it.”

“I remember. When you folded the slice, grease pooled on the cheese.”

“And it wasn’t just a little, either. You could fry a whole other pizza with it,” he said with a laugh.

“Yeah,” I said resisting his trip down memory lane. “So, is that why you suggested this, so we could talk about pizza?”

“No. No, that is definitely not why I asked you here.”

“What can I get for you two?” The big bellied cook asked us.

“A burger for me, Mike.”

“And for you?”

Merri retrieved the menu from its holder in the center of the table and quickly scanned it.

“You know what? I’ll just have whatever he’s having.”

“Two burgers medium, coming up,” Mike said, not writing it down.

“You know him?” Merri asked me.

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