Chapter 7
stared at Martin in shock.
She felt her mouth drop open, and she tried to compose herself and look cool. She could tell it wasn’t working by Martin’s expression.
He looked just as tense as she felt. He was wet from the rain, his dark windbreaker beaded with water, and his faded jeans darkened with dampness. He wore a baseball hat, which was also soaked, and beneath it his brow was furrowed.
“Hi,” he said carefully.
“Martin, I… I wasn’t expecting you. There’s a guy coming for the couch, and—”
“I saw your flier,” Martin interjected, holding up a piece of folded paper by way of explanation.
folded her arms across her chest. “And you what, are shopping for a new couch?” she asked, her voice full of attitude. She couldn’t help herself. She was overwhelmed at the sight of him, and she could feel her usual defenses going up around her, one wall after another.
“I—Can I come in?” Martin asked.
felt her heart hammering in her chest. Just the sight of him was bringing up all of the emotions that she’d been trying to stuff down since their night together.
She stepped aside.
Martin entered her apartment. He took off his hat, flicking it in the air once to get the water off.
“What are you doing here?” asked.
“I wanted to see you,” Martin said.
It took you long enough, thought. I’ve been right here all along. “You could have called,” she said. “Frank has my number.”
“I know,” Martin said. “I know, I got it from him. I—I saw your flier and thought I’d come by instead.”
Just ‘come by’? As if we’re old friends?
The intimacy they’d experienced the week before flashed through her mind. She felt her resolve weaken.
“Do you want some hot tea or something?” she asked. “You look…” She eyed him. His clothes were clinging to his body. “Wet,” she finished.
Martin shook his head.
He stepped nearer to her, and she felt butterflies well up in her abdomen. Her heart hammered in her chest as he neared her, and the emotions intensified. She felt her resolve weaken still, as his energy field pulled her in.
This, she thought, feeling the sensation of his physical nearness. What is this? It was like he had a palpable power over her. He stepped closer still, and she looked up into his eyes.
Their icy blue depths made her forget her confusion, her anger, her fear, for just an instant.
She tore her eyes away, and felt the fear return.
He stepped closer, and now she could feel the heat from his body, pouring over her. She reached out, and her hands landed on his hips. There were no words that could describe the pull that she felt towards him.
Though she felt afraid, she lifted her chin and closed her eyes.
His lips landed on hers, kissing her hungrily.
She kissed him back, unable to resist. As she melted into him, all of her attraction to him surfaced full force. It was as though a door was opening inside of her, releasing a floodgate of stored sensations. She felt undeniably attracted to him.
His hands cradled her face, and his kiss deepened. She melted into his kiss, thoughts and emotions alive and swirling inside of her.
As the battle between attraction and fear raged inside of her, she felt the fear surface.
What are we doing? What is he doing here? What does he want?
She removed her hand from his hip, and placed it over his hand. She slowly pulled his hand away from her face, stepping back as she did so. She met his eyes again, her questions pouring out of her silently.
What is happening between us?
Where is this going?
“What are you doing here?” she verbalized. The words sounded clunky and awkward, and they hung in the air between them. The silent, need-filled communication that had transferred through their kiss seemed impossibly far away.
“I wanted to see you, . I can’t stop thinking about you,” Martin answered her.
They stared at each other for a moment, and bit her lip.
Martin held up the paper again. “You’re leaving,” he said. “Going to London?”
She nodded.
“I wanted to see you again, before you left.”
“Why?”
“Because—” Martin said, stopping short and running his hand through his hair. He started to pace.
“Because, I don’t know. I just felt like, it was important, for some reason. I don’t know if that makes sense.”
“Look,” said, trying to keep her emotions in check. “I know we had that night together. And it was… good… but—”
“Good?” Martin asked, looking at her closely.
“Okay. Better than good.”
“It was fucking unbelievable,” Martin said. felt the corner of her mouth raise in a tight smile. It had been unbelievable. Magical, to borrow a term from Sandy. Maybe I do have time to think about unicorns, she thought.
“Alright,” she admitted. “It was pretty unbelievable.”