Chapter 1

The Tampa sun, unusually fierce for a Thursday morning, cast a shimmering haze over the cityscape outside John’s window. From his 20th-floor office, he could see the highway ribboning out, cars inching along like ants on a march.

Inside, his world mirrored the bustle below – a relentless stream of emails, calls, and proposals vying for his attention. It had been one of those weeks where Friday seemed like a mirage, a distant oasis he wasn’t sure he’d ever reach.

The office buzzed with activity, a symphony of ringing phones and clicking keyboards. As an executive, John was in his element, deftly handling emails, reviewing reports, and making decisive calls.

His phone buzzed, snapping him out of the spreadsheet he’d been staring at.

“Hello?”

“Hey, John! It’s Ryan! Ryan Baxter. From college, remember?”

John paused, the name dredging up a hazy memory of beer-soaked parties and late-night study sessions. Ryan ... right, they’d shared a dorm room freshman year of college, hadn’t they? Years since they’d last spoken.

“Ryan! Wow? It’s been a while.”

“Tell me about it. Time flies, huh? Listen, I got your number from Mark - we were just catching up, and your name came up.”

“Mark? Mark Johnson? Didn’t know you two knew each other.”

“Yeah, met at a conference a while back. Small world, right?”

“Damn, right. So how have you been?”

“I’ve been good, dude! Just thought I’d reach out and see what’s been going on in your world. It’s been ages since we caught up.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. Got way too many things on my plate, you know? But I’m glad you called. So, what’s new with you?”

“No worries, man. Life happens. Well, I’ve been working in finance, doing the 9-to-5 grind and all. But enough about me. How’s work treating you? Still slaying it in the office?”

“Trying my best. Work’s been busy, but you know how it is. Gotta pay the bills. How about you? Any crazy adventures or exciting stories?”

“I’ve actually been traveling a bit. Went to Europe last month.”

“That sounds great! I need a vacation myself. Anyway, how’s everything else going? Family, relationships?”

“Ah, the usual. Still single and mingling. You know me, never one to settle down. But I’ve gotta ask, how’s married life treating you? How’s Sia?”

John leaned back, a practiced smile easing onto his face. “It’s great, Ryan, couldn’t be better. Sia’s good, yeah, she’s really good. She keeps me on my toes, that’s for sure. We’re both keeping busy, you know how it is.”

“That’s awesome, man. I’m glad to hear it. By the way, why weren’t you guys at Wesley’s wedding?”

“Wesley’s wedding? Oh, man, I wish we could’ve made it. You see, something unexpected came up, and we couldn’t attend.”

“Ah, I understand, work can be a real pain sometimes. But we all really missed you there. It just wasn’t the same without you. And guess who showed up? Calvin! Can you believe it?”

John’s hand tightened around the phone. Calvin. The name alone was enough to send a ripple through his brain.

“Calvin ... was there? That’s ... surprising. How’s he been? I haven’t seen or heard from him in years.”

“He’s changed a lot, man. Still has that charm though. He’s doing well. He’s got his own thing going on, and it was great to catch up.”

A flash of Calvin’s grin – the one he always flashed before they did something reckless – filled John’s mind, followed by the sharp scent of chlorine and cheap beer. His chest tightened, a familiar ache settling in his gut.

John’s mind races with memories and a mix of emotions. He tried to maintain his composure.

“By the way, do you have his contact information?”

“You know what? I think I do. Let me check.” John hears some things moving around. “Ah, here it is! I’ve got it. Want me to text it to you?”

There was a pause, filled only by the distant buzz of office life. His heart thudded oddly in his chest, a mix of excitement and apprehension swirling within.

“Yeah, uh... -I ... I think I do. It’d be great to see him again.”

“I’ll pass you the number. Let’s get the gang back together, relive some of those crazy memories. It’ll be a blast!”

“Sure,” John echoed, his mind already elsewhere. “Sounds good, Ryan. Look, I gotta run, but let’s talk soon.”

“You got it, John. Talk soon, man. And give my best to Sia.”

John slumped back in his leather office chair, the plush cushion offering no comfort to the sudden turmoil in his gut. His phone lay face down on the glass desktop, ignored. Ryan’s call, so casual and unexpected, had torn through the carefully constructed facade of his life. He hadn’t let himself think about those days in years – the parties, the recklessness, the three of them together.

He’d built a good life, a safe one, but the memories of those nights surged back with a force that left him breathless.

A buzz from his phone cut through the silence. His head snapped up, heart pounding. A new message notification. It had to be from that number. His hand trembled as he reached for the phone, a mix of dread and thrilling excitement coursing through him.

There it was, stark and real on the screen: Calvin Anderson. A simple string of digits that held the power to unravel everything. Images he’d spent years trying to bury. God, it had been so intense back then.

What was he thinking? This was insane. He had a good life with Sia, a life built on trust and shared dreams. And yet...

A bold, reckless idea sparked in his mind, fueled by a longing he hadn’t realized he’d been carrying for so long. He could just ... picture it again. He toyed with it for some time.

With a trembling finger, he pressed the call button, the room suddenly too small, the air too thick. The ringing tone pierced the silence, each one dragging on like an eternity.

Then, a voice, deep and smooth as ever.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Calvin, it’s me, John.”

A few days had passed since John’s phone call with Ryan. During that time, he had managed to reconnect with Calvin.

They’d fallen into an easy rhythm, catching up, sharing snippets of their lives – surface stuff, really. But even those brief conversations were enough to reawaken something dormant inside John, something he’d convinced himself he’d buried long ago.

Calvin mentioned he’d be in Tampa for business soon and, without even thinking, John suggested they meet up.

They were meeting at ’The Rusty Anchor’, John’s local haunt. He’d suggested it, a familiar space, that had been a favorite of John’s ever since they moved here.

John pushed open the heavy wooden door, the familiar scents of beer, old wood, and something spicy cooking in the kitchen washing over him. It was a Friday night, the place buzzing with the easy camaraderie of regulars. His gaze swept across the room, landing on a figure seated in a dimly lit corner booth.

Even after all these years, Calvin was impossible to miss. He hadn’t shrunk, not one bit. His powerful build and dark skin, coupled with an air of enigmatic confidence, made him a beacon in any crowd. He was lounging casually in his seat, a beer in hand, seemingly absorbed in the baseball game playing on the pub’s TV.

There was always an air of enigmatic confidence about him, a strength that seemed to roll off him in waves. He had the kind of presence that made it difficult for anyone to feel hostility toward him.

John’s heart pounded a frantic rhythm against his ribs. He took a breath, steeling himself, and headed over. As he approached, Calvin looked up, his face splitting into a wide, genuine grin.

“John!” He rose, the movement fluid and powerful, pulling John into a quick, but surprisingly tight hug. “Damn, it’s good to see you.”

John found himself grinning back. “Calvin, it’s good to see you too.”

The two men settled into their seats, the background noise of the pub fading as they fell into comfortable conversation.

“You look good, Calvin.”

“Right back at you,” Calvin laughed, raising his glass in a toast. “So, how you been, John? It’s been ... what, 7 years? 8?”

“Yeah, something like that,” John agreed. “Life’s been good. Moved here to Tampa, got married. You know, the settling down routine. How about you? I heard you’ve been all over the place.”

“Bouncing around, that’s me. Europe, Asia ... Trying to experience as much as I can. It’s been wild.”

“That sounds amazing,” John replied. “What brings you back to Tampa?”

“Business mostly,” Calvin said with a shrug. “It’s a nice change of pace though.”

They fell into conversation, their words flowing as smoothly as the beer from the taps. They talked about their lives, what happened after college, meeting old friends ... etc ... etc.

“Remember the time we stole the Dean’s car?” John chuckled.

“How could I forget? We were lucky we didn’t get expelled.”

They traded stories of their old adventures, reminisced about late-night study sessions that always ended with too much tequila and even more laughter.

They chatted about their careers – Calvin sharing stories of his travels and the cool people he’d met, while John talked about his journey up the corporate ladder. Even though their paths were totally different, it was clear they had a lot of respect and admiration for each other.

Through it all, however, the conversation danced around one name: Sia. It was an unspoken agreement, an elephant in the room that they both chose to ignore, for the time being.

Finally, it was time to say goodbye. They stood on the sidewalk, the humid Tampa night closing around them.

“Let’s do this again soon,” Calvin said, his smile genuine.

“Absolutely.”

He watched Calvin melt into the night, then turned towards home, a strange mix of emotions stirring inside him. It was exhilarating, reconnecting with his old friend, but there was a weight settling over him now.

The first phase of his plan kicked into place. Now, it was time to bring Sia into the picture.

Days morphed into a week, that left John feeling equal parts energized and deeply conflicted. Each encounter with his old friend chipped away at the carefully constructed wall he’d built around that part of his past. The easy camaraderie was back as if no time had passed at all.

One evening, he found himself stretched out on their living room couch, the burn of a good scotch a welcome counterpoint to the knot of tension twisting in his gut.

He was playing mental reruns of all his meetings with Calvin, Sia’s name a silent siren song at the edge of his thoughts. Telling her felt like stepping onto a landmine – one wrong move, and everything could just explode.

The sharp click of their front door snapping shut jolted him back to reality.

Sia.

She walked in with that effortless grace he’d always admired, shedding her work blazer onto a nearby armchair. Her dark hair, a silken waterfall cascading down her back, framed high cheekbones and full lips.

Her dress, a simple black number that clung to her like a second skin, showcased every delicious curve. His gaze snagged, as it always did, on the way the fabric skimmed over her hips, those full, round hips that had been the site of so many pleasurable sins ... Fuck, he was in trouble.

“You look beat,” he managed, dragging his gaze away from her body and up to her face.

“Tell me about it,” Her voice was soft, almost melodic.

He poured himself another finger of scotch, hoping she wouldn’t notice the tremor in his hand. “Drink?”

“Just water, please,” she said, absently twirling a strand of her dark hair around her finger. He found the gesture unconsciously alluring.

He handed her the glass, trying to focus on the normalcy of it, the comfortable rhythm of their evening routine, but all he could see was the ghost of another woman, feel the phantom heat of another body pressed against his. It was insane, the way his body, his mind, betrayed him so easily.

“You okay?” Sia’s voice, laced with concern, snapped him out of his thoughts. “You seem ... off.”

“Work,” he muttered, taking a long pull from his glass. “Miller’s got this new marketing campaign – it’s insane. You know how he gets.”

He wasn’t lying, not entirely at least.

“Don’t tell me,” Sia laughed, rolling her eyes. “Miller cornered you again with another one of his ‘brilliant’ marketing schemes?”

John chuckled, leaning back into the familiar rhythm of their banter. “Something like that. The man’s obsessed.”

“One of these days, that man is going to give himself an ulcer,” she said, shaking her head.

“That’s not even the worst of it. We’re working on this deal, an overseas client, and it’s a mess. Miller’s in way over his head.”

“International? What kind of client?”

“Some bigwig tech company. Europe somewhere. He’s throwing a fit because the negotiations haven’t exactly gone his way.”

“Well, have you considered bringing in someone who has experience with international clients? Maybe someone from my department could help.”

“Exactly what I said,”

“If he wants things done right...” Sia muttered, but the sharp edge had left her voice, replaced with a playful glint in her eye. “But enough shop talk.”

She set her water glass on the coffee table and slid gracefully off the table, settling onto his lap with a familiarity that is reassuring and comforting.

“How about we forget about work for a bit?” She leaned closer, her fingers tracing a light path down his arm. “Just you and me?”