Chapter 11
On Saturday, Alex pulled into the parking lot at Damian’s apartment building, the midday sun blazing off the hood of his Subaru. Though he’d driven with the windows open—he instinctively felt April was too early to resort to air conditioning—his T-shirt was damp with sweat from being stuck between his back and the car seat. As he parked, Damian’s SUV rolled in and took a nearby spot.
Alex climbed out of the car and watched Damian hop out, looking summery and delectable in a white T-shirt, brown cargo shorts, and Velcro-strapped sandals.
Damian waved at Alex and strolled over. “Been waiting long?”
“Nope. Just got here.” Alex moved to the passenger door, opened it, and drew out two plastic bags bulging with food cartons. “I was a little early, and figured you might need lunch,
