He appeared ten feet from Natalie, watching her scan the light bluster of morning commuters around her. She was looking for someone and Matt knew who....Tom Alcott, one of his friends when he’d been alive, the guy who’d ribbed him about Natalie not putting out. He appeared through the crowd, tall and well dressed in a grey suit, ready for a day at the office. He grinned when he saw Natalie, his dark eyes full of the morning sun. Matt watched him approach, wrap his arms around her slender frame. I got a Bloody Mary and he got a scotch on the rocks (“Glenfiddich, not that well crap!”) and this time when he sat in a booth I slid in next to him. I felt a slight tingle as my thigh pressed against his, and I know my nipples were hard for sure. And I am not sure if I was flattered or disappointed when he only glanced down once to look at them poking though my dress. Flattered, because instead he looked into my eyes and seemed to be most fascinated with them, or disappointed because either he. More

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