Neither one of them moved as they faced each other.
He hadn’t said anything, his muscles seemed frozen, and for a second she thought he didn’t recognize her.
Suddenly she felt guilty about showing up this way, without warning, and this made it harder. She had thought it would be easier somehow, that she would know what to say. But she didn’t. Everything that came into her head seemed inappropriate, somehow lacking.
Thoughts of the summer they’d shared came back to her, and as she stared at him, she noticed how little he’d changed since she’d last seen him. He looked good, she thought. With his shirt tucked loosely into old faded jeans, she could see the same broad shoulders she remembered, tapering down to narrow hips and a flat stomach. He was tan, too, as if he’d worked outside all summer, and though his hair was a little thinner and lighter than she remembered, he looked the same as he had when she’d known him last.