Julian drove slowly to the party the next evening, following the directions given by the smooth female voice on his GPS. They were late in leaving. Tate had dawdled, taking much time to get ready. Julian wondered if he was doing this on purpose.
Now Tate was quiet and sat with a hand on Julian’s thigh. They hadn’t said much about the party the previous day. They spent that night wrapped in each other’s arms making love, so the party wasn’t mentioned then either. Tate seemed distracted Sunday morning. Julian’s enquiries as to what Tate was thinking were dismissed with a smile and the declaration that all was well. They spent the afternoon watching a football game on TV.
Julian had hoped the weather would come to the rescue and the party would be cancelled. But much to his disappointment,
