One day after not having seen Lindsay in months [it often worked out that way, with her acting/music schedule], I got a call from her. She sounded really serious, and asked me to come over.
To be honest, when Lindsay would want to get together, we usual went out or she asked to come over to my place. Going over to her crib was a rare, special occasion [like after a new movie was released and it turned out to be a big hit].
So I headed over to Lindsay's more than a little curious. Like I already said, I hadn't seen her in months, not to mention my redhead conquests had been slim pickings as of late and I'd been resorting to the internet and my fist.
Lindsay looked good, really good, in tight, tight blue jeans and braless in a tight, white tank top. She was already getting a rise out of me.
She seemed more serious than usual, more quiet. And she wasn't drinking. Lindsay always had at one drink. Not this time.
"I wanted to talk to you," She finally said. "I've been thinking a lot about it lately, doing some serious soul-searching. Hey, I'm not getting any younger, and so many opportunities have passed me by . . ."