His eyes moved down to assess my outfit, polka-dotted socks included. Meanwhile, I studied his light brown hair, gently tousled on top and short on the sides.
His hair looked longer than the last time I’d seen him, and I wanted to run my fingers through it. Somehow, Neil was even more attractive than I’d remembered.
How many times had I imagined seeing him? How many times had I tried to relive our memories? But no mental reproduction of Neil could compare to the reality of seeing him right there, in the flesh, just a little ways away from me.
I met his eyes again, and he set down the bag of pistachios on the kitchenisland. Then, he turned his attention to a few grocery bags right next to him that I hadn’t noticed before. He pulled some cans out and put them away in the cupboard.
He practically ignored me, breaking our fleeting eye contract much sooner than I’d expected.
It occurred to me that if I wanted to get to the fridge for the carton of milk, I was going to have to get closer to him, but I didn’t have the guts to take even one step in his direction. Instead, I continued to watch Neil like a patron of the arts encountering a particularly spectacular and imposing sculpture for the first time.
Everything about him seemed to cry pure sex appeal, despite the layers of clothing that covered him. His powerful neck exuded eroticism as it was exposed by the cut of his white sweatshirt. The muscles in his arms exuded eroticism as they jumped with every movement. His raised veins exuded eroticism as they ran along the back of his hands, proceeded along his wrist, and branched out through his body. His firm ass and masculine, well-favored legs exuded eroticism even wrapped in blue jeans. His curated stubble—perfect as the rest of his face—exuded eroticism as it shadowed his powerful jaw. With all of those features, Neil didn’t need to show an inch of skin to inspire one particular feeling in women: desire.
“Are you going to just keep standing there, or are you going to give me a hand?”
I sucked in a breath at his voice, a firm baritone that simultaneously scraped my skin and caressed my senses. I watched as his eyes trailed down to my pajamas. He tried to hide the sensual smile that only made him more undeniably attractive, and I immediately knew what he was thinking.
He thought I was preposterous.
“What are you smirking about?” I finally asked. I didn’t sound as hostile as I would have liked, but at least I didn’t stammer. Neil rested his hands on the kitchen island and leaned forward slightly, exposing the muscled perfection he hid under his sweater. My eyes luxuriated in his amber skin and, for a few moments, I didn’t need to blink.
The irritating chaos in my stomach once again made me give up on leaving the spot where, apparently, I had taken root. I no longer felt hungry, andI’d lost the ability to move my body, so now discomfort was the strongest thing I felt.
Neil rounded the island, and, as he did, I realized I wouldn’t be able to handle it if he got too close to me. I had never understood why he had such a devastating effect on me but I was acutely aware of the fact that this human disaster had the accursed ability to enchant me completely.
He approached me slowly and then stopped. I leaned my head back to shift my stare from his chest to his lush lips to the bewitching eyes that were, in turn, staring fixedly at my face. At my forehead, to be precise.
I breathed in his smell, the same one that had invaded all the space around us. The same one I’d sensed in the hospital. The same one he left on me every time we made love.
Then he raised a hand to push aside my bangs and get a look at my scar. “It’s hardly noticeable,” he said. I should have backed up, slapped his hand away, or hurled some insult at him, but instead…
All I could think about was how much I had missed his touch.
I was near tears because the emotions of the moment were overwhelming and they were beating back my good sense.
After a moment, though, I was able to break the trance and get up the nerve to step back. I couldn’t help but notice that he looked as disappointed as I did.
Just as a little part of me had expected, Neil was right there in front of me, and now I needed to keep my wits about me and not lose focus. I needed to understand what had really gone on between us.
“Don’t touch me,” I ordered, harsh and assertive.
Neil frowned and retreated without giving any hint of what he was thinking.
For my part, I wanted to make sure that he understood he couldn’t work his magic on me the way he did on all the other women.
He’d ghosted me without so much as a single text or call.
“I just wanted…” He positioned himself behind the kitchen island, and I could breathe again. “I wanted to see how you’re doing.” He grasped a jar of Nutella in one hand and turned away from me to put it in the cupboard. He looked tense now and irritated. Still holding my body stiff, I approachedhim in tiny steps, careful to maintain a distinct distance between us.
I didn’t trust myself nor the feelings I had whenever our eyes intersected.
Did he really want to know how I was doing?
Did he just now think of it?
“Bit late to be asking, don’t you think? You haven’t called or even sent a single text to suggest you were concerned about me!” I said. “Not a single one, Neil,” I repeated.
All my insecurity had vanished to make way for the anger that I’d been trying to suppress for days now.
