There was no recognition on Jase's end. But then he constantly met all kinds of different people in the course of his job. Could be they'd crossed paths at some point, and he just didn't remember. "What don't you believe?"

"That it's really you. After all this time, I guess you've forgotten that I'm basically a beer drinker, but right now, I'd rather have a nice cold glass of OJ."

Forgotten? After all what time? As in I'm supposed to know you from somewhere?

Jase narrowed his eyes and looked the dude over more carefully. The lighting in the club was lousy, but somewhere between the glitter, the cheap glamour and false eyelashes, one of which was rapidly becoming unglued, there was something vaguely familiar about the guy. He searched his memory and came up dry. "Sorry, man, I think you must be mistaking me for someone else."

The man gave a soft, sexy chuckle, the kind that raised hairs on places Jase had always thought were hairless. He flipped through his memory banks for a second time. He still didn't recognize the face, but he knew he'd heard that chuckle somewhere before. Where or when, he couldn't remember…but something about it reminded him of his college days and March break--cheap motel rooms, heavy breathing, sweat-soaked sheets, and the overpowering smells of stale beer and sex.

"S'okay, Jase. It's been one helluva long time," the guy said quietly. "And I know I have you at a disadvantage in this getup. But you were looking me over pretty good, so I figured I should say something fast in case you recognized me and blew my cover."

"Sorry, man. Like I said, I think you're—" Before Jase could finish what he was about to say, he realized the guy had used his name. Then, something clicked in his brain and the memories came flooding back…along with a rush of pure sexual need he hadn't felt in a very lone time. "You're— Oh, my God, it's— But it can't be. You're—"

Matt Lester in the flesh?

Jase stared at the guy standing beside him in shock. He and Matt Lester had been lovers, best friends, and roommates through the last couple of years of high school and the first of year of college. Then Matt's family had moved to the west coast, and a scholarship had caused Matt to transfer to another school. They'd kept in touch for a while, and still exchanged cards at Christmas, but between distance and everyday life, they hadn't seen one another in years. Jase wanted to ask if Matt was back living here in town, or if he was just passing through. However, before Jase could say his name out loud, Matt had him in the kind of lip-lock Jase couldn't have broken even on a good day.

He let his body go limp and waited for the one guy he'd never thought to ever see again to do the same. At least, the idiot wasn't using force. No tongue, just a firm hold and the pressure of his mouth to keep Jase quiet. Jase felt the rasp of five o'clock shadow against his own freshly shaved skin. He was also conscious of the faint smell of stale, sweaty clothes, and he wondered if living on the street was also part of Matt's cover. With anyone else it would have been a total turn-off, but with Matt it was working on Jase like the most expensive aphrodisiac. He was up, he was hard, and he knew with just a little mouth-action on Matt's part, they'd once again be flying to the moon.

If he'd thought about it, and he had, quite a few times if he told the truth, Jase wouldn't have expected to still feel this way, not after so long. But it seemed that was the amazing thing about memories. Sometimes they came flying back as fresh as the day they got started, and this one was what, close to nine maybe even ten years old?