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“Okay, right. Is that… Do you get a lot of that?”

    “People trying to set me up? Sometimes. You saw what it was like at Marianne and Derek’s.” Tom seemed to reconsider and added, “Sorry, yeah, you did, because she was trying to set you up with someone too. Although, since you left with him, I guess she was more successful in your case.”

    “Only because neither of us wanted anything from it,” Cal said slowly. He leaned against the countertop and tried to put it into words. “Which I don’t think was on Marianne’s mind. She assumes everyone wants to end up like her. Married, kids, house with the white picket fence, you know? Not that there’s anything wrong with wanting those things.”

    “Plenty of people seem to,” Tom agreed. He dumped the contents of one carton into a bowl, then placed the bowl in the microwave to reheat.

    “So she looks at me, single, and she looks at Alexander, single, and thinks that all she has to do is introduce us to each other, and bingo, we’ll be a happy couple too. It never occurs to her that we might not want anything more than some good sex and company in our bed.”

    “And that’s really all you want?” Tom made a flicking gesture with his hand, and Cal took a step to the right, leaving the space the utensil drawer had to open into clear so that Tom could get a fork. “You don’t want a boyfriend, partner, whichever word you prefer?”

    “It’s not that I don’t want one, and yeah, either word is fine. It’s more that I don’t expect every guy I meet to possibly fill that role. I assume eventually I’ll hook up with someone who’ll, whatever… fit , I guess, and we’ll end up together for a long time. I’m not analyzing every guy who crosses my path, though. Does that make sense?” Cal had the sudden feeling he’d been going on too long, rambling.

    “Yeah, it does.” The microwave beeped, and Tom retrieved his bowl of noodles. “And I think Marianne is looking at the world through relationship-colored glasses.”

    Cal stared at Tom, amazed he’d been able to put it into words that were so accurate. “Exactly! What about you?”

    Tom stuck his fork into his noodles. “You need to take that shower.” The words were spoken so casually that it wasn’t until he added, “You smell sweaty,” that Cal got it.

    “I’m sorry,” he said. “I crossed the line, huh?”

    Tom hunched up his shoulder. He didn’t seem too perturbed, but there was a distance present that hadn’t been there before.

    Cal sighed. “Save me some noodles. I won’t be long.”

Chapter Four
    Tom finished folding his clean laundry, tucked the small pile of Tshirts into their drawer, and glanced at the clock again. Cal’s flight was supposed to have landed almost two hours before, so he should be home anytime now.
     
    It was the second work trip Cal had taken since he’d moved into Tom’s house a month ago. They’d been getting along well enough that Tom, much as he liked his privacy, had actually been looking forward to Cal getting back. He’d always been grateful for the quiet when Sally was gone for a long weekend, but somehow the past few days the house had seemed lonely.

    He was working on a grocery list at the small table in the kitchen when he heard the closing of car doors in the driveway, followed by the sound of a car pulling away. Cal usually got a cab from the airport, claiming it was cheaper than leaving his car in the long-stay parking lot. Tom suspected that Cal just didn’t want to stick to coffee on a long, dull flight. A minute later, there were voices—more than one—and the scrape of a key in the lock of the front door.

    “What time is it, anyway?” he heard Calvin asking whoever he was with. “Come on, let’s get upstairs to my room before—mm, yeah, do that again.”

    Calvin and some other guy with blond hair—Cal did seem to have a type—stumbled around the corner, kissing and groping each other. It took a few seconds for