She's traveling in first class whether she likes it or not.
She's staying in my room whether she likes it or not. And she's going to enjoy herself,even if it kills me.
Heading out an hour earlier than normal, I see my receptionist, Cathy, gape at me as I pass by her desk. At herexpression, my feet slow to a stop. "What's the matter, Cathy, cat got your tongue?" I tease as I move my briefcase to my other hand so I can grab my phone.
Damn, I'm in agoodmood.
“Dr. Richardson, you never leave this early!” Cathy remarks. Her eyes are wide in surprise, and a huge smile curves her mouth. “Could it be because of that absolutelyadorablewoman I saw stomping out of your office on my way back from lunch?” She doesn’t even try to hide being nosy.
I smile back at her. “Cathy,” I tsk, giving her a wink as I open my phone to the apps. “It’s because I have to make dinner, and I'm really looking forward to it.”
Dinnerfor the adorable woman.
I listen to her laugh as I text, headed out the lobby doors of my practice. It's almost five, and I’d thankfully finished with my work early.
AR: Sarah Beara, do you like spicy chicken salad or regular? Blue cheese or ranch? You know what, I’ll just get everything so you can have options...
Shamelessly using her nickname, I pocket my phone without a care. Because if dickhead David can do it, then so can I.
I tighten my lips and throw my briefcase in the passenger side of my vehicle, realizing this is my last night making dinner for her before she moves into her apartment the next day. My eyes narrow in displeasure. I don't like that. I know I haven't known her on a personal level long enough to be feeling like this, but I can't help it. She's crawled into me and settled herself in.
It's discombobulating, to say the least.
But I won’t overstep boundaries, not all the time anyway. I know she will need her space. I can also acknowledge that I don’t want to give her any.
Jesus Christ, what is wrong with me?We’re practically strangers.
I pull out of my reserved spot and head to the store.Except, we don’t feel like strangers, I muse, not turning the radio on, content to be lost in my own thoughts.
Thoughts of Sarah, the non-stranger.
I'm busy talking with Johnathan a couple hours later through google video, truly enjoying the vibe of my home tonight for the first time in a long time. The delicious smell of fried chicken permeates the air, and the sounds of “Land of 1000 Dances” gives the kitchen a playful ambiance that I hope lifts her spirits when she walks through the door. I wonder when she's going to show up because she should have been here at least forty-five minutes ago.
I debated calling her, but I don't want her to think I'm too clingy since that could possibly chase her away.
The satisfying sound of the sizzle of the grease frying pulls my attention away momentarily, and I work hard to get a grip.
"So,you're actually cooking for two, huh? You remember how to do that?" Johnathan teases.
I laugh, flipping the two cutlets in the skillet, hoping I didn't make them too salty.
"Come on, I'm not a Neanderthal," I joke, turning the screen to show him all the salad fixings chopped and ready to go on the counter, as well as the wine chilling in an electronic holder. Just then the hair on the back of my neck stands up, and I half turn my head, feeling her close. My skin tingles when I see in my peripheral that she's right behind me.
Sarah sings a line of the song, and it's beautiful, filling me with a shot of pleasure that's so warm it's almost dizzying.
She snuck up behind me, tapping me on the left shoulder before faking to my right. I turn to face her head on, and that shot of pleasure expands even more somehow at the sight of her long hair now out of its bun, swishing as she straightens back up. She greets me with a shy smile that makes my blood race in my veins.
I couldn't tell you the last time someone smiled at me the way she is, especially in my home, my sanctuary.
“Hey." I grin back at her, catching her gaze. Her spirit feels a bit brighter, and I hope that coming to my home with dinner cooking and some good music lifted her spirit the way I'd hoped. “I like this playful mood, Sarah,” I murmur quietly.
For a split second our eyes clash. My chest tightens and fills with an almost unbearable heat. I lock myself down swiftly, resisting the urge to lean down and press my lips to hers. God, I bet she's a pleasure to kiss.
“That'sSarah? The girl who’s been living with you? Ya ‘iilahi, look at all thathair!” Johnathan's deep booming voice sounds out next to us, causing Sarah to suddenly scream in fright and throw herself at me.
She doesn't even wince as I catch her with an arm around her waist and press her close to me. Her hands fly up to my chest, and I see she's holding a thin black box with a black bow, but her face is more important than any gift.
However, even in the miss of sudden chaos I tuck the knowledge that gift-giving might be her love language deep inside for later.
