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His heart leaped. This was going great! He knew she was something very special because he had sensed that at the first moment. Otherwise, he would not have approached her.
I lean my neck against the back cushion of the sofa, pondering.Did Kevin feel the same way back then? It must have been like that, right? Sure. I mean, at first, I just considered his flirting… embarrassing.
Kevin is quite a bit older than I am. In addition, at the time I was irredeemably and hopelessly in love with one of my high school classmates.
But in the meantime, we harmonize quite well as a couple. If you disregard the hibernating butterflies in my stomach.
I replay in my mind the course of events at theFried Chicken Partyof the Men’s Choral Society. I had never seen another man as determined and sure of victory at the same time as Kevin not sticking to his guns. And anyway:Why would he have chatted me up otherwise? If he hadn’t fallen in love with me at first sight?
The Kindle went into snooze mode during my musings.
I wake up the device and concentrate on the letters again. With the two in the book, it’s quicker now:
She took a step closer to him. The air between them sparked. He gathered his courage and stroked her shoulder-length hair. She smiled at him, which he took as approval. Then he bent his head down to her and looked deep into her eyes. They were so intensely green, flecked with brown, like the forest, and he was threatening to get lost in them.
Wow, what a passage of text!The black words on the illuminated display blur, and I see a pair of eyes as described before me: intense green, speckled with brown specks, whose amused glitter…
Whoa! Stop!I put my galloping imagination in its place and continue reading.
Just when he had finished the thought, she closed her eyes. He knew what she was doing, and lowered his gaze to her rose-colored lips. Were they as soft as they looked? He wanted to find out the answer, so he put his lips on hers and kissed her.
Oh, how beautiful.I close my eyes, imagining Kevin and dreaming of velvety soft lips brushing across my mouth.
Warm breath tickles my ear, and finally, a perky tongue licks over the sensitive skin on my neck.
My fingers feel strong strands of muscle under seductively soft cashmere knitwear. In my book-fueled daydream, I have to lift myself up on my tiptoes to bury my nose in the crook of a neck covered by a turtleneck and inhale the heady mixture of scents emanating from the man in front of me:
Exotic. Masculine. Dangerous.
Oh my God. Did I really just use the triad of adjectives I came up with this morning for that darn Mr. Sandtmann?
At least something consoles me: The man from my imagination did not wear his face…
…but not Kevin’s either. Argh!
It takes all my attention to scare away my anger at myself. I focus on the sentences on my Kindle, blurred in the fog of my confusion.
It felt bombastic. An unprecedented warmth flowed through him, exhilarating him.
And how exhilarating!After all, Mr. Sandtmann had literally emitted happiness like one of Pauline’s fluffy forest trolls. And in the mocking twitch of his sensual mouth corners had lain the promise of an even deeper emotion.
Oh my God!As if the device was the trigger for my confusing emotional chaos, I throw the e-reader into the other corner of the sofa.
Why did that self-righteous rogue follow me all the way into my well-deserved evening of relaxation?
If only our technical discussion hadn’t revealed his quick comprehension and eloquence… And the fact that—if he wants to—he can also display impeccable manners.If, yes, if…!Then it would be much easier for me to drive this man, who looks like a pagan deity, out of my delirious thoughts.
I should…Yes, exactly! Actually, I should chase him to the very devil to whom this nefarious demigod has most certainly sold his soul long ago!
As if in derision, a mirage of his mockingly smiling lips appears before my eyes.
Oh my God! Why can’t I banish him from my mind?In my desperate search for relief, I grab one of the sofa cushions and press the smooth, cool viscose fabric against my face.
7. To Run onFeuds
Philipp
Blows patter down on me. Crouched on the floor, I cradle my head in my arms. Although it hardly seems possible, the content of the words spouted by the hateful voice cuts deeper under my skin than the belt will do, which is now being pulled out of the black pants’ loops.
