Learning How to Bend

Day 22 - HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

He arrived at my apartment several hours later.  Truth be told, I had gotten so caught up in one of my many work projects that I had completely forgotten he was coming.  I had been looking forward to tonight for so long—as Thaddeus had been in Chicago for the past two weeks, and this was our first chance to get together, and when it came time for him to be at my doorstep...I had completely forgotten.  Work had always been a sort of escape for me, but now it was only a distraction.  An unwanted and unwelcome one.

I self-consciously tugged down on my shirt before disengaging the deadbolts and opening my front door.  I could just imagine Tthaddeus's eyes studying me, from my toes all the way up to my head.  It was not like he had not seen my skin before—he'd seen me in a bikini, for heaven's sakes—but there was still something about having him standing here that made me want to squirm.  I resisted, though, instead putting a smile on my lips.  Although it was a slightly enthusiastic one than usual.

"Good evening, Thaddeus."

"Is that what you're wearing?"

"Ever the charmer." I rolled my eyes before giving him a wink.  I stepped out of the way, and Thaddeus walked into the room. "Give me ten minutes."

"Five."

"Eight, and that's my final offer." I smiled, this time more genuinely.

"Eight it is."

I clicked so I could see his general location before standing on my tiptoes to place a light kiss of thanks on his cheek.  I walked quickly away from him and to my bedroom, where I changed into my favorite pair of jeans and a blouse before returning to the living room.  I had no idea what color my shirt was, but everything matched with jeans, right?  It was a safe bet. "What was my time?"

"Seven minutes and forty-five seconds."

"Not as snappy as this morning." I snapped the fingers on my left hand, immediately regretting the decision because my pointer finger had been the one I cut earlier in the day.  I flinched and shook my head.  Why was it that smaller cuts seemed to hurt the most?  "I need to step up my game."

When I sensed him moving closer to me, covering the distance between us in three long strides, I fought the urge to step backward.  I knew he would not hurt me, but you try standing in one place when you can hear something large coming toward you, but you have no idea who it is.  It was intimidating, but I stayed where I was until he was so close I thought I could feel his warm breath hitting the skin of my forehead.  My heartbeat increased of its own accord as I felt him pick up my hand which I had injured.  I pulled it away from him at first, but he took it in his once more.  Holding it in front of him, he traced his finger along the shallow scab.

"You need to be more careful," he said.

"Careful.  Right.  Sure." He was so close, I could not think straight.  If he was trying to get under my skin, he was succeeding.  I swallowed. "I, uh..."

He did not say anything, simply continued rubbing my finger.  Although I knew he meant nothing by it, he once accidentally pressed too hard.  Prickles of pain tickled my brain, and I managed to pull my hand away from his.

"Did I hurt you?"

"N-no," I stuttered.  What was getting into me?

He was.  He could sense something was different with me.  He recognized it and was using it to his advantage.  Not maliciously, just...I did not know.  Thaddeus was my weakness, and he had figured that out a long time ago.  He knew what would distract me, what would cause me to melt and lose the ability to form coherent sentences.  It was not his dashing good lucks, as what might have worked with other women.  No, he was using my other senses.  Touch, hearing, and smelling.  He was so tantalizingly close, yet too far away at the same time.  I swallowed.  I knew my face was turning beet red, as it was burning up like Central Park in July.  I also knew because I heard the tiniest hum of a chuckle in his breath.  Oh, yes, he knew.  He definitely knew.