I'd like to say that Chet wasn't on my mind Saturday at work. I put up canned goods before moving over to the produce bins about noon, once the shelves were full. I brought the produce in the bins forward. It left room for the fresh produce that would come on Monday. This was the last thing I did Saturday, before heading home for lunch.

Each time I stood to move to the next bin, Chet came to mind. I could see him, smell him. This is where he stood while I got the big picture. Each time Chet entered my mind, I smiled.

I didn't know why. We didn't know each other. I felt tongue tied while talking to him the night before. I liked his voice but how did I know he wasn't toying with me. We'd stood together in Hitchcock's for five or ten minutes.

What could you learn about someone in five to ten minutes?

Yes, he was a pretty face. His body wasn't half bad, if you like dancer's bodies. His smile made me dizzy. His touch started a fire inside of me. His smell made me delirious. Maybe I was getting the flu. He was too damn good looking if you ask me. I wasn't in Chet's league and I knew it.

He did remember me from our first encounter. What explained that? He knew I was on the bridge. He knew I was watching him. He didn't know I nearly got run over trying to get a closer look at him the second time I saw him.

That said something about the day I first saw him. I knew why I remembered him. I'd never seen anyone skate with more style. He'd been a performer. That explained his ability to fly. What explained how he looked? What did a guy who looked like him want with a guy who looked like me?

If I was smart, I'd steer clear of Mr Chet. Why was I thinking about him?

He thought he could waltz into Hitchcock's and sweep me off my feet. He had another thing coming. What did we have in common? We both lived in El Cajon.

I held the one remaining pineapple, while picturing how Chet looked. His eyes were that awesome vivid green. He was awesome from the tippy top of his read head to the tip of his toes. I just stood there smiling like a goofball.

What was wrong with me?

So, he had a nice smile. So what? I finally put the pineapple down dismissively. I was not falling for him. I still loved Free, even if I probably wasn't going to see him again. I didn't need to fall in love with anyone else. I didn't want to fall in love with ... Chet.

I made up my mind there and then, I wasn't thinking of Chet any longer.

It was time to go. The shelves were full, the produce was in easy reach of the weekend customers. I'd done all I could do. I walked to the back of the market. Hanging up my apron and picking up my skateboard.

I'd go home and have lunch, or I might go to my patch of grass by the mall. Get my mind off of Chet.

I was a little hungry. Maybe I'd go home first. Then go sit on my patch of grass. One thing was for sure, I wasn't standing around thinking about Chet. I tried to remember what time he called me last night. My mind was blank. Why did I want to remember what time he called last night? I wasn't falling for him.

It was five minutes to two when I headed for the door.

"Bye, Mr Hitchcock. See you Monday," I said.

I stepped out into the bright sunshine. Breathing in the nice fresh air, dropping my skateboard on the sidewalk, I propelled myself away from Hitchcock's. I skated toward the house. I was heading for home. I might reconsider my options at Broadway, but a sandwich would be good.

I wasn't all that hungry. I still might hang a right and go sit on the grass by the mall. I'd see skaters I knew there. Once a skater or two came by, I'd forget all about Chet. I needed to quit thinking about him. He might not call tonight.

Maybe, if I hooked up with one of the skaters I liked, I'd forget about Chet.

As long as it wasn't Gordo. No, I'd had my fill of old Gordo, but it was Saturday afternoon. Everyone would be out on such a nice day. If it ended up being Gordo, then, I'd go home and eat lunch. He'd be gone by the time I came back. Gordo never stayed in one place for long. I hadn't seen him in some time.

I left the market behind, and I was a block from Broadway, and still trying to make up my mind. My brain was doing its usual wandering around in my head, when I lost my momentum. A small sandy brown sports car made a turn off of Broadway and on to the block I was skating on, until I was standing still as the car slowed, pulled to the curb ten feet from where I came to a stop.

It was him. Why was he here?

How'd he know what time I got off on Saturdays. Did I tell him? Nothing was said about him coming to get me on Saturday. He was supposed to call me tonight, and I didn't know if I wanted to talk to him.

What did I do now?

Skip was why I shouldn't get involved with Chet. Skip had been good to me. He'd rescued me when my heart was aching. I learned to surf. I helped him look for Chet. I found Chet. What was I going to do with him?

My conversation with Chet came to mind. My feelings were back under control. I wasn't falling in love with this guy, but maybe a date wouldn't hurt. Here he was. I didn't ask him to pick me up. He didn't say he'd pick me up.

Nonetheless, here he was. What did it mean?

I'd seen him twice from a distance. As good as he looked on a skateboard, he looked better close up. That wasn't enough to base a relationship on.

It was nice to be looking at him. He was looking at me.

I watched Chet through the windshield. He sat looking up at me through his wraparound mirrored sunglasses. Of course he'd wear mirrored sunglasses. Hiding his eyes made sure no one knew what was on his mind. I thought I knew but I couldn't be sure. I didn't know this guy.

What do I do now?

The moment of truth had arrived. All the daydreaming in the world wasn't opening that car door. Did I want to open this door? If I opened it, I was toast. I couldn't restrain the feelings I was having. If I opened that door, it was all over.

My mouth went dry, my heart pounded, the fresh air became too thin. My resistance was nonexistent. I hadn't told him not to pick me up. He didn't act psychotic. Maybe it would work out, like in the movies. Just not Silence of the Lambs.

He didn't reach to open the door. I didn't reach to open the door. He sat staring at me as I stood staring at him. He was not going to make the first move. He'd come here for obvious reasons. The rest was up to me.

'Go slow, Z. Go very slow,' my brain warned me.

It didn't say, 'Run like hell.'

The engine revved once. Chet wanted to make sure I didn't forget him.

Fat chance.

I closed the distance between us. I opened the car door, sitting down, down into a seat that felt like it was on the ground.

I dropped my skateboard on my lap. I did not close the door. I kept my right foot flat on the asphalt. I looked into the mirrored sunglasses as he looked at me. I was in the position to get in or get out. I knew which I'd do, he didn't.

"I know. I know. I couldn't wait any longer. I had to see you, Z. I want to get to know you. I want you to know me," Chet explained. "If we are going to do this. Let's get started today. I can't do it over the phone."

He had a pleading quality in his voice. His face came with a serious expression as he kept looking my way, waiting to see if I would get out.

I reached for his sunglasses. I took them off his beautiful green eyes.

"They're as green as I remember them," I said, leaning to kiss his lips.

I put my right leg in the car and I closed the door before kissing him again.

"We'll try this. I'm not convinced you're for real. If you are, we have a future, if you aren't, I'll drop you like a hot rock. Do you understand me, Buster?"

His smile wrapped around like his sunglasses.

"Yes," he said with vigor. "Yes!"

"You can show me your apartment. Don't get any big ideas."

"Yes, I'll show you my apartment. No, I won't get any big ideas."

I kissed him again. He put is hand on the back of my head to hold me in place as his mouth and my mouth joined together in a prayer for our future.

"Damn you!" I said. "Damn you. You could have been a little bit less eager."

Chet smiled.

"No holding back for me. I'm going all the way with you. You'll have to decide how far you want to go with me, Z, but I'm all in for you."

"Damn you," I said.

I put my hand on the back of his head and pulled his lips against mine. The kiss was long and lingering.

A car blew its horn as it passed the passionate duo.

The kiss ended because I needed to breathe. I was sorry about that too.

I handed his sunglasses back to him.

"I'm through with you for now. Where are you taking me?"

His smile said it all. He put his sunglasses on. He put his two hands with black driving gloves at the top of the steering wheel. He took a look at me before checking the street, his mirrors, and the street again. He eased away from the curb. "Seat belt, please," he ordered.

The seat belt clicked and I was immediately pressed back in my seat as he punched the gas pedal to do a one eighty, and we were immediately crossing Broadway and heading for Main Street at a modest speed.

"How often do you buy tires?" I asked.

"Not often," he said. "I only show off for you."

"Give me a break," I said. "What kind of car is this."

"Lamborghini."

"Isn't that a bit on the pricy side for a waiter's salary?"

"I'm a good waiter," he bragged.

I laughed.

"It's a long story, Z. I'll tell you all, if you'll keep kissing me like that."

I leaned to kiss his smooth cheek.

"Deal," I said.

His smile grew.

"Let's go slow. I think we both need that," Chet said. "I have nothing to hide. I'm no choir boy, but I feel like I'm on the right track."

"I still don't understand what you want with me," I said.

I took his right hand in mine, removing the leather glove. I put it on. It was big on me.

"You have a big hand," I said, as the light changed and we turned left.

"You know what they say about big hands," he said.

"What do they say?" I said, taking the glasses off him again.

"I don't know. I was asking you if you know what they say."

"You a comedian too?" I asked. "You do have pretty eyes. I've never seen eyes as green as yours."

"You know what they say about boys with green eyes?" he asked.

"No, I don't know and I suspect you don't know either. Where we going? Now that you've got me where you want me, what's the plan?"

"Be together today and maybe tomorrow if we're still talking tomorrow. That's what I'd like, Z," he said.

"We can do that," I said.

He looked at me and smiled.

"That mean I got a shot?" he asked.

"I'll let you know tomorrow. If you can stand being with me, I guess I can force myself to be with you."

I leaned to kiss his cheek. I looked at my feet when I started blushing.

"You're so fucking cute," he said.

"I am not," I said.

My blushing got worse. "We going to your apartment?"

"You're precious. You fluster easy and you blush too. I love it," he said.

"You're making fun of me," I said.

"I'd never do that, Z."

"What do you want with me?"

"I want to look at you. Talk to you. Get acquainted, Z. I want to know who you are. I want you to get to know me. That's all"

"We can do that," I said. "I'd like that too. We could do that at Hitchcock's."

"We can't get naked at Hitchcock's," he said with mischief in his voice.

"No, but you get me naked and we're going to need to do more than talk."

"I was hoping," he said. "We'll go at your speed. I want to be with you and anything you want to do is fine with me."

"We'll go with the flow."

"You aren't mad at me? I mean, I tried to stay away from you. I couldn't do it. I had to see you. I tossed and turned all night. I don't know I'm ready to fall in love, Z, but I've never felt this way about anyone before. I know about a million people. I never loved one. I didn't think I could love someone."

"I've never been irresistible to anyone before. I may as well see where it takes me. Us," I said. "I was in love with Free. It was love. He joined the Navy."

"You've loved before. What does this feel like to you?"

I looked at his face. He was a good actor if he wasn't being honest.

"Ask me when you take me home tomorrow."

"I will. I know how I feel. It's all up to you how far this goes. I'm all in."

I had his driving glove on my right hand and I put his sunglasses on.

He looked at me and gave me the nicest smile. I felt warm all over.

As I looked at the bridge at the end of Main Street, we turned into the apartments on the left. Chet pulled up in front of the first building. He revved the engine once and shut the car off.

"This is it. Home sweet home," Chet said, opening the door and getting out. He went up the eight stairs with me right behind him. I followed him down a long corridor to his door. We stopped in front of apartment 103. Chet Mosby was written under the door knocker. He opened the door, holding it open for me.

I was standing in a living room with a big couch, two recliners, with several tables and lamps scattered around. There were real paintings on the walls, mostly landscapes, but they didn't come from Target. Someone liked art.

I turned on him, putting my arms around his neck, we kissed and we kissed some more. I'd always felt inadequate as a lover. My inexperience said I wasn't as good for the people I was with as they were for me. I was very good with Chet. He was very good for me. We are good together when the chips were down.

It was getting dark when I leaned the back of my head against Chet's naked chest. His arm stretched across my shoulder and chest as he held my hand.

"I need to call," I said.

There were no questions.

Chet reached for the phone I put next to his on the nightstand.

"Dad. Yeah it's me. I'm with a friend. I'm going to stay over tonight. I just wanted to let you know I'm fine. Yes, sir. Goodnight."

I handed Chet my phone. He put it back where he got it.

"You get along with your parents pretty well?"

"Yes. We've been closer since we moved to California. We have people back in Massachusetts, but we only have each other out here. They worry about me."

I turned to get my lips on his.

We made love, slept a while, and made love some more. To touch Chet was even better than looking at him. He had all the right moves and I learned while doing my best to keep up with him. We did things I didn't know could be done, and then we did them again.

Free and I had made love all night more than once. We'd made love all day a few times. As crazy as I was about Free, Chet had a way about him that made me feel like I was the most important person in the world. I'd have been surprised if he hadn't been as talented as he was, but I kept up with him. Each time he got me off, I got him off. I can't tell you how many times that was.

Each time the call came, I was ready to do my part, while soaring to the heights, diving to the depths, wherever loving took us. There was no beginning, no ending. There was me, Chet, with two intertwined hearts. We couldn't see them, but we were there when they blended together.

I was in a state of bliss. I never wanted it to end. If I had to die, I wanted to die there with Chet.

His touch was as powerful an aphrodisiac as was known. Even a look from those deeply green eyes lit my smoldering embers into a blazing fire. We never stopped touching each other. When we weren't making love, we held hands. I don't recall we ever separated Saturday, once we reached his bed.

His tenderness made kissing him as sweet as honey. It was like being lost in space, hanging on a shooting star, as we felt the molten sun before being cast off into the cold of a moonstone. We rose and fell in frantic ecstasy before we once again settled into Chet's bed at his apartment.

I kissed his chest, his nipples, his belly button, which ended up in the way of his prodigious endowment as I kissed it all. I'd never been with anyone as talented as Chet was. Each time I thought I was through, I wasn't.

I would gladly stay with him forever and then I'd stay one more day.

No matter where we traveled, we were together, no questions asked. Chet, the magic man, taught me. I was teaching him, while we flew from here to there and back, pushing love as far and as fast as we could get it to go, leaving us both in a seat and breathless.

It was fast. It was too fast. Faster than the speed of sound. Not quite as fast as the speed of light. There was no doubt that my heart was full of love. My heart was full of Chet.

What did you say to the man you loved after knowing him for a day?

I watched him moving in front of the counter a few feet from the table for two where I sat inside the small kitchen. His motion showed me how tight his body was. He had an athlete's build. A dancer should look athletic. I think ballet was the most strenuous thing I'd seen a man do. In the ballet, men were frequently naked above the waist. Why shouldn't they dance half naked. It took a lot of work to get bodies like that.

I didn't think Chet did ballet, but his body could have done anything he asked it to do. I watched him lean, stretch, add this and add that, as he constructed the coffee I asked to have if I wanted to get my eyes open for whatever he had in mind for us to do today. I had nothing in mind but Chet.

"Cream and sugar?" Chet asked, putting the sugar bowl on the table.

I reached out to fondle him. He watched my hand as I felt his smooth balls.

"You're as big as anyone I've been with, but I didn't have any difficulty doing anything we did," I confessed in earnest.

"It is what it is. We don't get much of a say about what grows down there."

"I like guys with skin. Something missing from guys like me. I mean there are so many more dimensions with a penis that hasn't been cut up.

"Ouch!" he said. "It even sounds horrible. I'm told our glands are more sensitive, because it is covered. Cut guys are exposed to the rubbing and moving around during the day. Rubs out some of the sensitivity. My head is protected from all that, until the skin is moved back."

I moved the skin back, holding his balls in the other hand.

"It's resting at the moment. You gave it a bit of a go last night. I loved every minute. I haven't gone like that in ..."

"You've gone like that before. You didn't have any trouble keeping up. I tried to stay with you. I was afraid I wouldn't be able to keep up with you."

"It was more being with than keeping up or ending up in any particular place. No, I don't have any trouble keeping up. In Hollywood, you're not asked to keep up, you are expected to keep up if you want to play in the reindeer games."

"Reindeer games?" I asked.

"'We won't let Rudolph play in any reindeer games. Rudolph was an outcast because he was different."

"His red nose," I said, never thinking of Rudolph as anything but heroic, according to the song anyway.

When I finished feeling him up, he went to get me a cup and pour the coffee. He sat across from me and he reached to hold my left hand as I drank coffee from the cup in my right hand.

"You didn't use cream or sugar," Chet observed.

"I was just noticing that," I said, stirring in two spoons of sugar and milk.

"You're distracted," he said.

"Can't imagine why. I have the most beautiful man I've ever known letting me play with his dick. Why would that distract me?"

He leaned to kiss me, once I set my coffee cup on the table.

"No coffee?" I asked.

"Not yet. I'll have some with breakfast. It goes down easier with coffee."

"I need coffee to wake up."

"I'll remember that. Two sugars and a dollop of milk."

"You're something. Do you know that?"

"I'm not sure what you mean, Z."

"We made love most of the night. You jump up and make me coffee. You're talking about fixing breakfast. You're something. I'll get use to it," I said.

"It's the way I am. I haven't had anyone over, except for T, in almost three years. I do know how to treat people," he said.

"If I looked like you ..."

"You'd what?"

"I don't know. I find it hard to believe you don't date. Go out."

"I was on a date for way more than two years. I was drunk, or high, with men, and with women. Life in the fast lane doesn't give you much time to think. You are always moving, responding, being on your game. Once I got out of the fast lane, well, I like going slow. I like peace and quiet. I like you, Z."

"Except while making a U turn, you go slow," I suggested.

He laughed.

"I have my moments, Z."

"Yes, you certainly do."

He leaned to kiss me. I met him halfway.