enough or something?”
“No, I just guess I would have thought at thirty you’d be in something you wanted to make a career out of.”
Something dark flashed in his eyes. With some unease, he looked away from me and rested his arm on the armrest. “Sometimes who you are is nothing like the person you want to be. And that’s something I realized a short while ago. I may be now in my thirties, but I’m probably just as clueless as you.”
Wryly, I raised a brow. “Who says I’m clueless?”
“You’re not? What are you doing with your life?”
Feeling a lot more relaxed by our conversation and its normalcy (sort of), I rested my back against the cushion and got comfortable. “I’m studying.”
“To become what?”
“A teacher.”
“Is that something you’re passionate about?”
I thought about it, and then I shrugged. “I don’t know. It seemed like an easy decision at the time I began studying. Felt right I guess.” And at the time I chose, I wasn’t scarred. Now the idea of being a teacher in front of a classroom with all that attention on me was unnerving.
With a wicked gleam in his eye, he cheekily said, “I can see you being a teacher. You’d carry yourself well. Of course you might distract the boys, but I’m sure they’d rather you than some hairy old woman with taco breath.”
My face reddened as I laughed at that, and he smiled widely, chuffed with himself as his eyes roamed my face. His gaze deepened when he remarked softly, “You’re incredibly beautiful.”
A swarm of tingles settled into the bottom of my belly. I looked away from him and back into my lap. God, you can’t handle a compliment now?
“That was one of the things I said to you on that train,” he continued. “ But your beauty then was filled with arrogance.”
“And now it’s not?”
“No, not at all.”
And anybody could guess why.
“You’re not too bad yourself,” I muttered.
“Oh? You like what you see?”
My heart pumped harder as I willed myself to look at him again. His piercing gaze left my body feeling like it was being squeezed tight by an invisible force, knocking me breathless. I was on fire, and I was sure my face gave away what he was doing to me.
“No response?” he whispered.
I felt his body draw nearer to me.
“Of course I do,” I replied shakily.
His fingers suddenly trailed my arm, igniting a trial of goose bumps. The skin he touched blazed for him. The silence between us was thick with hot tension. I could feel the very pit of my belly stir with desire. He was turning me on just by his bloody fingers and I was immediately aware of what was going on here. The only question I was asking myself was, “Should I go through with it?”
I did. I wanted to. Hell, I imagined myself being taken right then and there on that couch. But…
Abruptly, I stood up, breakin g the contact of his touch. Shit, what the hell was I doing?
“Did you want me to get you anything?” I asked him, not meeting his eye. “Something to drink and eat or…?”
From the corner of my eye, I saw him run a hand through his hair. “Uh, sure. Whatever you have will do.”
I nodded and took off to the kitchen. I’m a chicken shit. I felt scattered, opening cupboards and peering in. My mind was distracted by him sitting half a room away. I ended up stopping to watch him. His back was to me and he was leaning over now, leafing through a magazine on the coffee table.
Why did I freak out so much?
Returning to the task at hand, I pulled out a box of crackers. Was I seriously going to make him a platter of crackers and cheese? What the hell was wrong with me? My hands were trembling, and I had to pause and breathe slowly through my mouth. I was trying to play hostess to a questionable man I hardly knew in my house at quarter to midnight. To top it all off, I couldn’t stop repeating his words in my head.
You’re incredibly beautiful. Was he blind? Or was he just a liar?
He’s blind, I decided. Had to
“No, I just guess I would have thought at thirty you’d be in something you wanted to make a career out of.”
Something dark flashed in his eyes. With some unease, he looked away from me and rested his arm on the armrest. “Sometimes who you are is nothing like the person you want to be. And that’s something I realized a short while ago. I may be now in my thirties, but I’m probably just as clueless as you.”
Wryly, I raised a brow. “Who says I’m clueless?”
“You’re not? What are you doing with your life?”
Feeling a lot more relaxed by our conversation and its normalcy (sort of), I rested my back against the cushion and got comfortable. “I’m studying.”
“To become what?”
“A teacher.”
“Is that something you’re passionate about?”
I thought about it, and then I shrugged. “I don’t know. It seemed like an easy decision at the time I began studying. Felt right I guess.” And at the time I chose, I wasn’t scarred. Now the idea of being a teacher in front of a classroom with all that attention on me was unnerving.
With a wicked gleam in his eye, he cheekily said, “I can see you being a teacher. You’d carry yourself well. Of course you might distract the boys, but I’m sure they’d rather you than some hairy old woman with taco breath.”
My face reddened as I laughed at that, and he smiled widely, chuffed with himself as his eyes roamed my face. His gaze deepened when he remarked softly, “You’re incredibly beautiful.”
A swarm of tingles settled into the bottom of my belly. I looked away from him and back into my lap. God, you can’t handle a compliment now?
“That was one of the things I said to you on that train,” he continued. “ But your beauty then was filled with arrogance.”
“And now it’s not?”
“No, not at all.”
And anybody could guess why.
“You’re not too bad yourself,” I muttered.
“Oh? You like what you see?”
My heart pumped harder as I willed myself to look at him again. His piercing gaze left my body feeling like it was being squeezed tight by an invisible force, knocking me breathless. I was on fire, and I was sure my face gave away what he was doing to me.
“No response?” he whispered.
I felt his body draw nearer to me.
“Of course I do,” I replied shakily.
His fingers suddenly trailed my arm, igniting a trial of goose bumps. The skin he touched blazed for him. The silence between us was thick with hot tension. I could feel the very pit of my belly stir with desire. He was turning me on just by his bloody fingers and I was immediately aware of what was going on here. The only question I was asking myself was, “Should I go through with it?”
I did. I wanted to. Hell, I imagined myself being taken right then and there on that couch. But…
Abruptly, I stood up, breakin g the contact of his touch. Shit, what the hell was I doing?
“Did you want me to get you anything?” I asked him, not meeting his eye. “Something to drink and eat or…?”
From the corner of my eye, I saw him run a hand through his hair. “Uh, sure. Whatever you have will do.”
I nodded and took off to the kitchen. I’m a chicken shit. I felt scattered, opening cupboards and peering in. My mind was distracted by him sitting half a room away. I ended up stopping to watch him. His back was to me and he was leaning over now, leafing through a magazine on the coffee table.
Why did I freak out so much?
Returning to the task at hand, I pulled out a box of crackers. Was I seriously going to make him a platter of crackers and cheese? What the hell was wrong with me? My hands were trembling, and I had to pause and breathe slowly through my mouth. I was trying to play hostess to a questionable man I hardly knew in my house at quarter to midnight. To top it all off, I couldn’t stop repeating his words in my head.
You’re incredibly beautiful. Was he blind? Or was he just a liar?
He’s blind, I decided. Had to
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