Fruit. Hummus. Rosé. Oh my God, Julia thought, I’m so bach-ing it.“I’m looking for ice cream,” said the man, his voice that low roll. He was ...ressed in a dark t-shirt and jeans. Middle-aged; tall, broad shoulders, face slightly chiseled, a two-day shadow. Average. But attractively average. “Dad bod,” Julia whispered to herself.“Sorry, what?” he asked.“You’re looking for ice cream.” Julia declared, louder, trying to recover.“Right,” he said, “That kind right there.” And despite that she’d been. She told herself that it was just a guy, just like he was. Shewasn't gay, so this was no big deal, but she couldn't deny that her neckwas craning like a giraffe to see him change. She got some glimpses - aleg, an arm, and then a side view. Then he came out, and she turned herhead away."So, why aren't you at the party?" he asked."Not interested," she said."Neither am I," he whispered, like it was a secret. "But I got talkedinto it." "Well no one talks me into anything," Robbi said proudly, like. More

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