“Harsh.”
“Not all men. But most.”
“You might want to flip the burgers.”
“Good looking out. There’s cold beer in the fridge.” I pointed to the refrigerator a few feet away.
“I don’t drink.”
“Since when?” Aldridge could drink most men under the table in college. Mostly because of his massive size.
“Since … we have a lot of catching up to do.”
“Well there’s also ginger ale. The brand in the glass bottle that you like.”
“You remembered?”
I remembered everything about this man. To the cloud-shaped birthmark on his back, his aversion to walking barefoot,and the curve of his dick. Aldridge’s hand moved across my waist as he passed behind me to check out the fridge. And I was acutely aware of my heartbeat.
“Wait, there’s actually drinks in here.” He pulled out the ginger ale bottle.
“I offer an immersive experience.”
Opening two bottles, he said, “Let’s make a toast.”
I accepted one of the ales. “Okay go ahead.”
Aldridge tilted his head back and licked his lips. “To the past catching up to the present and shaping the future.”
I raised a disbelieving eyebrow. His toast seemed to capture the moment. The past was definitely bleeding into the present. “To the past, present, and future.”
He took a long sip. “I can’t believe you found these.”
“When you submit a contract on a house, I’ll buy you a case.”
Aldridge downed the remaining ale and waved his hand over the grill. “Why are you manning the grill by the way?”
“Because men don’t know how to grill any more. Back in the day someone’s daddy or uncle would be in his brown sandals cutting up but times have changed.”
“Well I’m here and the grill is man’s work so you can go take care of the potato salad or something.”
“You’re not going to burn them like last time?”
He narrowed his eyes. “That was years ago and my song came on.” He casually tossed his arm over my shoulder. “It’s nice to have our families all in one place. We should do this more often.”
Aldridge’s cognac eyes locked on to mine. What started out as make believe was beginning to feel real. In another reality this could’ve been our lives. Cookouts with the family. Me wrapped in his arms next to the grill. Laughter as Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince filled the air. I knew Aldridge well enough to know he was holding back. There were words on the tip of his tongue that would remain unspoken. In leu of speaking, he leaned in andkissed me on the top of my head. To be honest, the sweet gesture wasn’t enough. What a sick and twisted world to be this close to Aldridge and unable to experience him fully as God intended.
Backing away, I pretended to be engrossed in picking the next song. Breathing was difficult and my mind released memories of the weight of his body overtop of mine, my legs wrapped around his waist, his dick so deep it made me lightheaded. Each memory was a little serotonin boost. It hit me like a ton of bricks. Anika was right, partially anyway. When it came to Aldridge, I didn’t know what the fuck I wanted. “So is this place a contender?”
“I like it. But the gas fireplace and lack of a pool is a deal breaker.”
“You never once mentioned a fireplace.”
“True, but if the home has one it needs to be real.”
Mental note, real working fireplace. “Got it,” I said through gritted teeth. I’d probably shown him over twenty homes and every one he took issue with. In one home the closets were too small, the next home they were too big. Another house had an outdoor basketball court which was a no because he couldn’t use it year-round. Then when I showed him one with an indoor court, he complained of a weird smell. He was like a six-foot-five Goldilocks.
“This is close but no cigar. The grass … I don’t know, is it just me or is the color off?”
