I recognized Mitchell the moment I saw him. He was sitting alone at a table in the corner of the bar nursing a glass of beer. Seeing him again after so many years made my stomach tighten. I was secretly hoping he’d look awful, but he didn’t. Yes, he was older and not as beautiful as the college sophomore I’d swooned over as a teenager, but he was still slim and very handsome.
Our eyes locked as I approached the table. He rose from his seat and offered his hand for me to shake. I took it reluctantly.
“Hi, Brian,” he said as we sat down. “Thanks for coming.”
“I’m sure I’ll regret it later,” I told him.
A waitress came over and I ordered a beer. When she left, I looked at Mitchell. It was hard not to look at him. He was dressed in a black suit and beautiful blue shirt that was unbuttoned
