Justin couldn’t possibly sleep. After that kiss, his head wouldn’t stop spinning. He brushed his teeth, made a circuit of the house to check doors and windows, then decided to strip his bed and change the sheets. Once the washer was running, he sat down at his computer and peered into Greg’s previous life. It felt a tad stalkerish, but Justin had never been to North Carolina. He wanted to check it out.
He visited Western Carolina University’s website, then opened Google Earth and zoomed in on Swannanoa. Justin tried to imagine growing up in the mountains, in a place with seasons and snow, and couldn’t.
Maybe he’d have the chance to visit someday.
On that happy thought, he fell asleep where he was, on the sofa.
He woke to the sound of kibble falling into bowls and the surprisingly loud crunching sounds Elton and Bernie made when they ate. He scrubbed at his face and checked his phone—he hadn’t missed anything overnight—then went outside for the paper. His article about Skyose’s history of failure, accompanied by another photo of Enrique’s, was below the fold, but still front page.
Justin grinned. He hoped that in the next day or two he’d have yet another front-page story, this time about Roy Shaw.
But right now, the most productive thing he could do was go for a run.
He’d never been athletic. When Justin lived in Orlando, Clay had insisted that they belong to a gym—another networking opportunity. Justin had been bored by it all, and had jogged on the treadmill, watching TV, while Clay “networked.” As much as he’d despised it, though, it had kept him in shape. Except for walks on the beach, he hadn’t exercised much in two years. The evidence of his sloth had accumulated around his waist.
Those days are over. He feared that Greg wouldn’t tolerate sloth for long. He dug his newest sneakers out of the closet, laced them up, and headed out.
He made it around his block three times. By the fourth circuit, he was gasping, and slowed to a walk. He could feel the tightness in his calves. I’ll be sore tomorrow, but it will be worth it.
He showered and dressed, went to his office, and sat at his computer. A potential twelve-mile-wide lake had just been discovered below the south pole of Mars; that subject would serve as his article of the day. Justin downloaded the paper on the topic that had been published in Science and got to work.
He was finished by noon. He emailed the article to his editor and was about to choose which of the Thai leftovers to heat up for lunch when his phone rang.
He snatched it up and checked the screen. When he saw Greg’s name, he whooped, “Yes!” then took a deep breath and answered. “Hi.”
“Hey. Whatcha doing?”
The sound of that voice… “I just finished writing an article about Mars. How’s your day so far?”
“Running into dead ends, mostly. I’ll tell you about it. Are you free for lunch?”
“Sure.”
“How about Taco City?”
“Sounds great.” Taco City was a terrific, inexpensive Mexican restaurant near the tip of Patrick AFB. Equidistant from the two of them. “When?”
“How about at one? The lunch rush will be over.”
“Perfect. I’ll see you there.”
Greg chuckled. “Yes, you will.”
They said goodbye. Justin did a happy dance around the kitchen, startling Elton, who’d been snoozing on top of a bar stool. Elton meowed, that chirpy sound made by orange cats that almost sounded like he was asking, What?
Justin scooped him up and squeezed him, which provoked Elton to bop Justin in the head with his paw. Justin didn’t care. “Two dates in two days, Elton! Life is good!”
Elton was unmoved.