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“So, what have you been up to in the last year?” Katy asks, pulling my focus back to her in the middle of us. “I feel like we see you less and less each year.”

She’s right. The longer I’m away, the more immersed my life becomes in Seattle. That’s why it’s so hard to answer questions about my year. I don’t know how to explain to people I see once or twice a year what my life is like in a place they’ve never been. It almost makes me feel like I’m two separate people: the person I am in my hometown, around the people who’ve known me my whole life, and the new version of myself that feels like it exists everywhere but here.

I’d like to believe I’m the same person, but I’m not. No one here is. I look around and am aware that my friends are also living completely separate lives. Derek tells me bits and pieces of his life, just like I tell him parts of mine, but it’s nothing like it used to be, when we knew everything and everyone. He has an entire job and world that I don’t know anything about, and the same goes for Katy and Randy.

And Marcus.

Marcus is the only person in this room I truly want details about right now, and he’s not even in this conversation. Is he single? Where does he live? What’s his last name? Does he have social media? I don’t need his whole life story, just some basics—and to know if we end up in his car again tonight.

“I know. Work has been busy, and when I’m not working, I’m usually in the mountains.”

“That’s so cool,” Katy comments, and I can tell she’s being genuine even though she has no idea what I actually do. “You just moved into a new apartment, too. Didn’t you?”

“Yeah. It’s sweet. It’s downtown and being able to walk to almost everything I need is a huge perk.”

“I love seeing your posts, man. It looks awesome out there,” Randy adds, and I agree before he launches into a story about his job—something about a coworker who microwaved fish in the break room for the third time that week. I laugh along with Katy, who looks more disgusted than amused, before I ask him what he did about it. It’s good to be back here with these people who knew me before Seattle. For a few minutes, I’m fully present, not thinking about anything except how much I’ve missed this exact kind of easy conversation with lifelong friends, especially when Derek joins us.

That is until I see Marcus move out of the corner of my eye, and my attention instantly snags on him. Despite my best efforts to focus on the conversation I’m in, I keep sneaking glances, hoping to catch him doing the same. I suppose my interest in him isn’t that complicated. He’s hot, we had incredible sex exactly once, and my body wants a repeat. It’s as simple as that.

Except, I’m not sure how I’m supposed to focus on anything else with him here.

Katy says something to me, and I completely miss it this time. “Sorry, what?”

“I asked if you’ve ever seen a whale from your apartment… because you can see the water,” she re-explains, laughing at me. “Where’d you go just now?”

“Nowhere,” I lie, and it was all because Marcus shifted on the couch. “But I’ll be right back.”

I don’t wait for them to respond as I stand up and head toward the kitchen, hoping Marcus follows just like he did last year. The not knowing has my pulse racing in the best way.

He’s just a guy, someone I hooked up with once. Except apparently my body remembers exactly how good that once was, because here I am, practically buzzing just from him being in the same house. No one since has quite lived up to our shared night, and I’ve compared every other hookup to him, whether I meant to or not. More than once, I’ve wondered if he ever thought about me.

Seriously though, what are the odds he’s here? That maybe, just maybe, we could have another night together.

The kitchen is surprisingly empty when I get there. I lean against the counter, trying to get my breathing under control while I wait for him to hopefully follow. So much could’ve changed in a year, and if he even comes in here, he could walk past me without another glance.

But he won’t. Not after the way he looked at me across the room.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” a grumbly voice says, and I attempt to control my smile.

My heart beats in my throat as I turn to see him standing in the doorway of the kitchen. Be cool.

“Same.” The word comes out strangled because I’m more nervous now than I was last year for some reason.

“You stalking me for a repeat, Evan?” he teases as he grabs a beer from the fridge and twists the cap off.

“If I were stalking you, I’d have found you well before now.”

Something shifts in his expression at my words. Desire, maybe. Interest, definitely. “Is that so?”

“Did you want to be found?” I feel confidence growing in my chest that he seems to still want me. I lick my lips and watch as his eyes trace the movement.

He’s leaning back against the counter, one hand placed on it while the other grips his drink. His body language makes him appear casual, but I can’t be the only one whose heart rate is picking up, can I? “Usually, no. But by you? Maybe.”

Fuck. Maybe.

That feels significant.

Over and over I’ve thought about how good it was to be desired by him. Other people have wanted me before, and that’s fine. But Marcus craved me. Acted like I was something he couldn’t resist with how hungry his mouth was on my body—kissing, sucking, leaving marks behind.