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Iwas lightly massaging my arms with my own hands to warm up, as John introduced us to his friends.
Just as I was born with the talent of memorizing mathematical equations, I also had a talent for remembering names. Xavier was the dark-haired, lanky guy with the ‘Pardon me for being HOT’ shirt; Jackson was the African-American guy with light green, penetrating eyes; Dom was the beefy guy with a ‘Don’t Mess with Me’ air about him. And, Zander, oh boy, Zander was Mr. Brick Wall!
We didn’t shake hands with the guys. When John was introducing us, us girls nodded our heads towards them. The guys smiled widely at us.
Zander, however, reached out his hand when John said, “Sedona, this is my friend, Z.”
Mr. Brick Wall’s eyes as he spoke, “I’m Zander. You have a very nice name, Sedona.”
I felt a spark of electricity go through my body. The way my name rolled off his tongue coupled with the intense heat radiating off his eyes, made my toes curl and my throat, a bit parched. He held my hand in what must have been 3 times longer than normal.
Nalee and Tanya started clearing their throats. I slowly pulled my hand away from his. The girls thanked Zander for the wine. I gave him a small smile and agreed with Tanya as she complimented Zander on his excellent choice.
“Let’s go, people! Times-a-wasting, drinks-a-wasting!” chimed Xavier.
To which Tanya replied, “Well, lead the way. You guys know where it’s at.”
The guys led the way. Well, most of the guys. Nalee, a fast walker, walked with Xavier and Dom. Tanya with John and Jackson. I could hear the chatter of their conversations
So here we were, walking in tandems, on the way to the club. My nerves were frazzled; my body shivered.Must be the cold air outside.Nah, I grew up in this weather. A bit of nippy weather didn’t make me shiver. It was HIM. He made me shiver.
When he got close to me, I smelled his musky scent and my mouth started to water. It was a scene straight out of my Chemistry textbook, “Charles' Law: At constant pressure, the volume of a confined gas is directly proportional to the absolute temperature.”
He was confining me into his bubble of hotness; therefore, my body temperature was directly proportional to his heat so the increase in temperature caused my insides to sweat and salivate at the same time.
When he glanced at me, I saw his heated look and my insides started to melt.
He sidled up next to me, hands in his pocket. He looked like he was trying to restrain himself from doing something.
“You cold?” I asked.
“Nah,” he stared at me.
“Hmm.”
“Why do you ask?”
“Your hands are in your pocket. It’s a bit chilly. I put two and two together and I think you’re cold.” That didn’t take much brain cells to explain.
“Nah, I run hot.” Oh yes, he did. Literally. He was slowly expanding me into a combustible matter.
“Oh.” I managed to say.
“You cold?” He asked back.
“Why?”
“Well, you keep rubbing your hands and arms together…”
“Kinda,” I admitted.
He slid closer and asked,“Can I warm you up?” His voice came out hoarse.
It was 65 degrees outside, but inside I felt like I was having a high-grade fever. I was literally burning up.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I shook my head and stared up ahead. I saw the glittering lights of the restaurants and bars as we passed them by.
“Yeah? Why not?” his eyes shifted.
