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He smiled, a gentle smile, a smile of understanding, need and wants.“If I spent the night,” he replied, “I might not ever leave.”John was brutally honest. I also needed a guy who would hold me and make me feel special.John stood up and made his way to the front door of my apartment as I followed him.In my bedroom, I shimmied out of my cocktail dress.I brushed my hair, wondering if I was making the right move.” John casually asked as the waiter sauntered off to get the check. I wondered if John might say “no.” I sure didn’t want or need another rejection.I suggested going back to my place where I could slip into something more comfortable and less fancy. Settling into the car, I quickly fastened the seat belt.

John and I had never had sex, although we came close a couple of times in high school.I didn’t know when I called John, that he was on the rebound from his very own broken relationship.John came by my apartment and I was happy to see a familiar face that I hadn’t seen in several years.He turned and opened his arms in my direction, palms up. The next day, John texted me to make sure I was OK. I had lost a love that had meant the world to me and I was still hurting.I embraced him and could immediately feel a spark of undeniable want filling me. I knew John was still hurting and the last thing either of us needed would be a sexual interlude that we might regret. Not only was he a good close personal friend, but he was physically attractive, with a solid rock-hard body, ripped abs and biceps.

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