Craig glanced over the wine list, glad Alex hadn't turned down his invitation to dinner. He'd never met anyone as prickly as the man across from him.

He did remember Alex now, but he couldn't believe he was still hung up over something that happened so long ago.

Hell, the guy was a fucking god. Didn't he know he was every gay man's wet dream? Not surprising for a moment he'd thought he might be a model or something.

Had Jill really told him her brother-in-law had dumped this guy? Unbelievable.

He stole a quick glance at Alex, whose nose was buried in the menu. Alex had sandy brown hair with streaks of gold as though he spent a lot of time in the California sun. Though he wore a suit, Craig didn't miss the broad shoulders hiding under the suit coat. He could just imagine Alex's biceps. Slightly shorter than his own height, Craig would put Alex at about six feet or maybe six feet one inch. He definitely looked like he worked out and his skin was lightly tanned once again as though he spent time in the sun, but was not exactly a sunbather. His eyes were… He stared hard at Alex, willing him to look up.

Alex must have felt his stare for he glanced up from the menu. "Did you pick a wine?"

Gray! His eyes were gray like pewter. Wow. He really was a god. Craig shifted in his chair to relieve the pressure of his painful erection.

"Hmm?"

"Wine?"

"Oh, yes, would you rather have white or red?"

Alex shrugged, his broad shoulders stretching the coat. "I know you're supposed to drink red with steak but I personally like white. Sauvignon Blanc preferably."

"Then that's what we'll get. I like it too."

Craig ordered the wine from the waiter and then picked up his own menu. He hoped they were over the awkwardness of what had happened in high school.

He'd be the first to admit he wasn't always the nicest guy. Home life had sucked and he hadn't been lying to Alex when he told him he'd been struggling with his own sexuality. At the time his father had been dying of cancer and his mother couldn't handle the emotional strain. Craig had kept a lot of shit inside.

"So what do you do for a living?" he asked without looking up from the menu.

"Jill didn't tell you?" Alex had set his menu down and was now buttering a slice of sourdough. "I'm a literary agent."

"Yeah?" He did lower his menu then. "Don't you have to be in New York or something?"

"Not anymore. A common misconception. There's this thing called the internet and email and the telephone. I make several trips a year, too, to meet with editors in person. It's no big deal anymore. Plus I handle several screenwriters."

Craig smiled when the waitress returned with the wine and offered him a taste. He nodded and she poured full glasses for both of them. After they'd ordered and she left their table, he said, "I guess you know I'm an accountant since I work with Jill."

"Yeah, I figured. I'm a little surprised though."

"Really why?"

Alex flushed. "Well, to be honest you sort of struck me as a dumb jock."

"Right. Because I played football I don't have a brain." Craig had been dealing with the stereotype most of his life. Athletes weren't gay either. Or so the stereotype went.

"Since you were a bit of an asshole to me I didn't really stop to analyze you too much," Alex said dryly.