One time when I was sixteen, I was visiting Aunt Sue’s house in Long Beach and she’d let me take her station wagon out to a party. I’d had a little too much to drink and, instead of driving it home, I’d parked it overnight at the beach and took a cab. I’d had two parking tickets by the time I went to retrieve it the next day. Or, more accurately, Aunt Sue had two tickets. On her perfect, never even a speeding ticket or fender bender DMV record. I’d worked the rest of the summer at Togo’s to pay off the fines, but I still felt incredibly guilty about blemishing the perfect record she’d been so proud of.

Let me tell you, that guilt was nothing compared to what I was feeling now. This was guilt supersized. And it was a bitch.

I plunked down into my chair, cueing up my computer screen to type up my Pines interview. I was halfway through when an IM window popped up.

I missed you last night.

Man in Black. Shit. I’d completely forgotten about him last night. Again. Though, in my defense, a dead body was a pretty good excuse.

Sorry. Long night.

Hot date?

No!

Though even as I typed it, I remembered just how close Cal’s lips had been to mine and how hot things might have gotten had circumstances not intervened.

Good, Black typed. I’m not a guy who likes to share.

I grinned. Sorry. I know that’s two nights in a row I’ve stood you up.

If I wasn’t such a stud, I might start to worry. Then, Tell me about your long night.

I paused. Usually, I told Black everything. But he was likely to run for the hills the second I started talking about dead bodies.

I don’t even know where to begin, I typed.

You okay?

I nodded at my empty cubicle. Yeah. And I guess I was. Surprisingly. I thought back to last night and how much I’d leaned on Cal to get me through. I’d leaned so hard, my IM date with Black had been the last thing on my mind. I felt a little twinge of something. My good friend guilt again? Which was ridiculous because Black was a fantasy and Cal was a rent-a-goon. In reality nothing was going on with either of these guys.

I’ve missed you, Black typed.

I bit my lip. Nothing. Right. Then why was my chest suddenly clenching as I stared at those three little words on my monitor?

I typed back a simple, Me too.

I’m not making a date for tonight, because I hate being stood up. But type at me when you can.