Free Duet in Blood by J. P. Bowie Page A

licked the puncture marks on his neck, my saliva immediately healing the wounds.
    “Please stay,” he whispered as I stepped back from our embrace. I kissed him once more, before leaving him alone in that dark doorway, knowing that all he would remember of our meeting was that it had brought him pleasure—and that he was now a non-smoker.
     

     
    Micah
     
    Just before I got off work, I called my friend Ron Hendricks at the Italian restaurant he managed.
    “Hey Micah.” He sounded surprised but pleased to hear from me. “How’s it goin’?”
    “Good,” I told him. “Sorry I haven’t called in such a long time.”
    “That’s okay, I know what it’s like when you’re in a relationship.”
    “Uh…Robert and I broke up.”
    “Oh gee, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
    “How are you doin’?” I asked, not wanting to talk about Robert.
    “Good.”
    “You seeing anyone?”
    “Well, as a matter of fact, yes I am.”
    “That’s great. Listen, I thought I’d stop by the restaurant when you take your break.
    Have some coffee…catch up. You up for that?”
    “Sounds good. Come by around six. We can use my office in back.”
    “See you then.”
    I put down the phone, feeling happy that Ron was in for renewing our friendship. I’d felt guilty about being out of touch for so long. Whenever Robert and I had gone out, which DUET IN BLOOD
    J.P. Bowie
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    according to him, wasn’t very often, it had usually been with his friends, and I, in my weakness, had never complained or suggested an alternative.
    The phone rang almost as soon as I had put it down. Jesse was helping a customer, so I picked up. “Barnett’s Bookstore. This is Micah.”
    “Micah, it’s Robert.”
    I felt a prickle of irritation at the sound of his voice. “Hi, Robert.”
    “Listen, we need to talk.”
    “We do?”
    “Yeah…why don’t you meet me in say, a half hour. I’ll buy you a beer.”
    “I’m sorry. I can’t.”
    “What d’you mean, you can’t?”
    “I’m meeting Ron Hendricks for coffee over at his restaurant.”
    Robert snorted rudely. “That loser! Tell him you’ll see him some other time. I really need to talk to you.”
    My irritation turned to annoyance. “Robert, you can’t keep telling me what to do. Those days are over—at your insistence, if you recall. Sorry, but I can’t meet you right now.”
    “Well, when then?”
    “I don’t know. I’m meeting Joseph later.”
    “Who’s he?” Robert sounded pissed.
    I sighed. “He’s the guy I’m dating. I told you about him.”
    “Micah…” Robert’s voice held a slight tremor. “I really need to talk to you.”
    “What about?”
    “About you and me.”
    “About you and me,” I repeated slowly. “There is no you and me. You took care of that,” I added for emphasis.
    “Micah, I’m sorry.”
    “So am I. Now I really have to go.”
    “Micah, wait—”
    “No. I’m done waiting. Goodbye.”
     

    DUET IN BLOOD
    J.P. Bowie
    55
     
    La Fortuna, the restaurant Ron managed, was within easy walking distance of my
    bookstore. That’s what I loved about West Hollywood, nearly everything was walkable—and the eye candy on the sidewalks was always worth a second glance.
    Except that, since I’d met Joseph, no one else seemed to compare.
    Ron gave me a big smile as I entered the restaurant. I stopped for a moment, slightly taken aback by the way he looked. I really didn’t remember him being so handsome. The Ron I used to run around with was Mr. Average—good looking in a quiet, unassuming way.
    Now, his dark brown hair had a lustrous sheen to it, his hazel eyes sparkled and his skin seemed to glow from within.
    “Wow, Ron,” I gasped. “You look great.” And I meant every word.
    “You too, buddy,” he said, wrapping me in a warm hug. His body felt hard and strong.
    “You’ve been working out,” I murmured, running my hands over his muscular back.
    “Not really…” He stepped back from our embrace and smiled at me. “I still