RETRACE

by Ehrlich, Sigal

  “Ice?” She turns to lean her hip on the sink, catching me with my stare still fixated where the object of my brief fantasy was a second ago, licking my bottom lip. I raise my eyes, which are crinkled at the corners, trying to swallow my sexually enthralled smirk. Yeah, plenty of that, ice, inside my boxer-briefs, please. I shake my head as a response, biting inside my lips.

  As Nia pours our drinks, I take the chance to take inventory of the place around me. I look for anything that will help me gather info on her while instinctively checking the best alternatives for an escape. Sick, yet entrenched. This place is half the size of mine. It’s small, but unique; somehow everything about the space says: Nia. Like her, the room oozes clean-cut, subtle, ease inducing, quiet beauty.

  “Here.” She hands me a glass, still assessing me. I take the drink and nod.

  “Nice place.”

  She glances around, timidly smiles, and hums an agreement.

  “Cheers.” I raise my glass.

  “Cheers.” She brings her drink near her naturally reddish lips. In unison we sip back the amber liquid, our eyes firmly locked. Our stare is so powerful it brings a light color to Nia’s cheeks, causing her to cast her eyes down. I assume it’s her attempt to break the tension that in a blink of an eye became so thick between us. She starts toward the plush grey sofa. I follow suit.

  I lean back into the sofa after setting my glass on the reclaimed wood coffee table that’s standing on a cream shaggy rug. I part my legs, slouching, my arms crossed behind my head. I watch her as she settles next to me with an unwelcomed guarded distance. She crosses her legs and covers them with a light blue, patterned throw pillow. Resting her hands on the pillow, she brings her eyes to meet mine. I smile at her and her lips quirk up… not enough, to my tasting.

  “What are you doing here?” She asks next, her pointy nose slightly wrinkled.

  My immediate response is a grin. Talk about straightforwardness, I like that. “Paying a friendly visit?” Her eyes narrow in blunt doubt. I raise my hands from behind my head in surrender. “I come in peace.” She huffs a short giggle.

  “What if I told you I needed some company and decided you’d be perfect?” I lean forward to take my glass and swig it back, intentionally not looking at her.

  “I don’t sleep with random guys.” The words practically gush out of her mouth. Her brows pucker, cheeks slightly flushed, but the determination in her eyes can’t be mistaken. I almost spit the contents of my mouth.

  “Whoa.” I can’t help but let out a healthy chuckle. All of a sudden the condom in my pocket becomes more of an exciting challenge.

  “Just making sure we’re on the same page.” She shrugs again, her eyes still hard.

  I, on the other hand, can’t seem to calm my grin down. “Got it. I promise to try and get you to know me before…” I shake my head amused. She just rolls her eyes.

  “You don’t have any personal knickknacks around,” I state, both really wishing to learn more about her and trying to stir the conversation away from awkward zone. Nia takes a short validating visual tour of the room and looks back at me.

  “I guess. The only things that matter sit next to my bed.” I cock an eyebrow. “Which are none of your business,” she adds too quickly. I could happily live without the stay-back vibe she is emitting.

  “Nia.” I scratch my bottom lip with my thumb. Her Hazel eyes grow as they trail to mine. “Can you just stop this thing you are trying so hard to pull off?” Her brows almost meet. “I said I’m sorry about how I ended things last time. I’m here to just spend time with a person who I think is pretty cool. I don’t have any hidden agendas.” I captivate her stare. Foil in pocket better kept undiscussed… “If I make you uncomfortable in any way and you don’t want me here, just say the word and I’ll leave, no hard feelings.” She heaves a long breath and finally her edgy demeanour mellows.

  “Sorry for that. I want you to stay.” Her eyes coyly counter my solid ones.

  I release a silent breath of relief. Just for the record, if she would have had asked me to leave, I would have had to convince her why it would have been a crime against her own wellbeing to not let me stay.

  To lighten up the atmosphere I say, “So we stopped at where I was telling you how I fell for one of my clients.” I bring back our conversation where I made her laugh, just before Katie interrupted.

  Her full lips instantly stretch, releasing a rolling sweet laugh. “Did you just continue from where we left off two days ago?”

  My answer is an affirming side smile.

  “God, you’re weird,” she says with an animated expression.

  “Guess, I am…”

  “How did you become a bodyguard anyway, it’s not exactly the most common job.” Her finger moves to trace the patterns on the pillow resting on her thighs.

  “It was the natural course after I was done serving,” I say, my eyes wandering to line her gentle curves.

  “Oh, so you were a soldier?” Her entire face lights up in curiosity and… excitement?

  “Yes, one of the greatest honors of my young-ish life… I was a platoon leader in combat.”

  “What made you decide to enlist in the first place?”

  “It was a condition of my parole,” I deadpan. A healthy chuckle rolls off my mouth at her big eyes and “o” shaped mouth. I shake my head, my eyes still dancing. She counters with a brief snicker.

  “It was something I always wanted. I guess the challenge, everything it stands for…” And moronic as it may sound, I thought it would have made the mother I never knew proud.

  “What was it like?” Nia asks. I lift my eyes to her thoughtful hazel ones. “Being a solider?”

  I slouch back onto the sofa, parting my legs wider. “Well, for the first half year you feel like a kid dressed up in uniform, following whatever everyone else is doing. Getting your ass scolded into submission.” My lips slightly quirk, “This was the hardest part for me, I wasn't a following the rules kind of guy before.” Unconsciously my finger moves over the little metal balls of the fine chain holding the dog tags that rest under my shirt.

  “Were you scared, being in a combat zone?”

  “Scared? No. It’s just changes you, when it becomes… your reality.”

  “I can’t even imagine being in a situation where I am shot at. It sounds surreal,” she says pensively.

  “Once you’ve faced live fire, when you’ve been in the field in the most chaotic situation, it feels real, very real. The moment you realise other people’s lives depend on you, and yours on them, it's when it all starts to make sense. It’s as if you mature overnight. You bond with these people, they become your brothers.”

  I grip the chain and breathe through the wrench in my chest as it compresses. “When you understand you'd die for them, and they’ll do the same for you.” My voice fades out, my eyes cloud and with causal pretence move to look out the wide windows. A familiar smolder clots my throat, too quickly I drift to dark places. Places I never want to forget, yet fight to stay away from. My stare drifts to look at where warmness radiates to my skin, to Nia’s hand on my thigh. I slowly raise my eyes to hers.

  “Reeves,” my name is a gentle whisper, “are you okay?” She leans toward me, her eyes soft and caressing. My brows pull in and I slightly cock my head, swallowed by her hazel softness. My gaze drifts south to her pouty lips, to watch her tongue moisten her bottom lip. My stare deepens at the erotic motion. Every other thought evaporates from my mind as I inch forward, my eyes moving from her stare that had slightly darkened to her lips and back. Her eyes take an anxious tone as my face reaches closer. In unison our lips slightly part. The small space between us fills with tension. I’m close enough for her subtle honey scent to reach me. I take a lung full to have it reach all the way through. We both slowly inch closer, and when her breath mingles with mine, I airily touch my lips to hers.

  There’s a second of charged surprise between us, but quickly gears are shifted and the soft, brief connection turns
into hasted conquering. Flesh to flesh, teeth to teeth, any control has left us as the barrier has been lifted. The first encounter of my tongue with hers can only be described as an overall feeling of being washed by sensual, electric rain. My fingers thread through her smooth hair, pushing her deeper into the trance our tongues have taken. We don’t kiss, we fight for more. To get deeper. To graze tighter. To consume the new territory. Wild attraction detonates all over us. Her hands rest on my bristled cheeks and for a long moment we both disappear into another dimension in which the only thing that matters is our physical connection.

  A warning invades my enthralled pleasure: this is not just a carnal kiss, there’s something more. With every taste of the sweetness that’s her mouth, I know I should pull back and stop it. After a few more stolen moments, I reluctantly, slowly, inch back with my hand still holding her delicate neck. I lean my forehead to hers and inhale deeply, doing an immense job not to lunge my tongue back into her mouth and lay her back on the sofa. I leave a chaste kiss on her pointy nose instead, and stand up, heading to where I assume the bathroom is. Nia doesn’t speak, nor makes any effort to stop me.

  I close the door behind me, find the sink, and splash cold water on my face. I prop my arms on the vanity and drop my head. There’s something about her that just makes me feel good, something I’m not willing to fuck up before I even have the time to explore. And I know, very well, that if I bed her I’ll screw it up. Like I always do. I adjust the swell inside my cargos, close my eyes, and take a few long mending breaths.

  Nia is putting our empty glasses in the dishwasher as I reach the great room. She turns back to the sound of my advancing steps.

  “Thanks for stopping it,” she says, catching me off guard. She has a tendency of doing that, surprising me. “Let’s just not mention it again, okay? Do you want to watch a movie?”

  For a short moment I look at her mildly startled. After inwardly determining that she’s the coolest chick I’ve ever met, I nod with a small crooked smile.

  “So you never told me what made you end up here?” I ask as Nia, beside me on the sofa, scrolls between movies tittles.

  “I wanted to teach dance.” She makes a great deal of studying the screen. I take the remote from her hand, forcing her to grace me with a look.

  “No studios in Brazil? You had to move to another continent for that?” The scepticism echoing from my voice can’t be disregarded.

  “I needed a change, okay? And I wanted to teach dance… Since my mother is originally from here and I have a couple of relatives in the city, it was the simplest destination.” My eyes run across her face, assessing her sincerity. Gradually, her expression takes on a softer air. “I love teaching young girls to dance. It makes me calm.”

  I can’t ignore the odd word choice. It calms her. Not happy, content, fulfilled, calm.

  Before I’m able to further pry, she snaps out of a short lapse and almost squeals, “The Piano.”

  I snort. “No chance in fucking hell, not even for you.” We both stop short at the latter part of my reply. “I don’t do whiny drama.”

  We end up settling on a comedy after some more lame drama films she tries to sell me and I disqualify for the sake of my short crap tolerance.

  Nia brings a light taupe throw and snuggles under it as I stretch my legs, resting them on the coffee table. She extends her hand to release a ponytail she tied earlier, and I watch her silky, dark hair fall in heavy strands around her blanket wrapped shoulders. She gives me a short soft peep. As our eyes meet, we exchange thin smiles and in unison turn to the mounted TV.

  Not long after the first scene ends with an idiotic “misunderstanding” that makes me throw my eyes to the ceiling, I turn to ask my movie companion to maybe change the film. I crane sideways to look at her, her long, dark lashes caress her high cheekbones as faint breathing sounds part her lips. She is burrowed inside the throw, her head dropped, almost leaning on my shoulder. I take the remote in one hand, and scoot over to sit closer next to her. Unconsciously, she rests her head on my shoulder. I breathe her in, and turn the TV to the news. As I lean back, Nia’s head slightly falls from my shoulder to my chest, and when I lean further back, her head gradually ends up on my thighs. The news become nothing of interest when I find myself admiring the curves and lines of her delicate features. I brush back a couple of thin hairs that cling to her cheek. I can’t unglue my eyes. One thing is sure, I’m in a hell of a different situation now, so far from the one I've envisioned coming here tonight. Nevertheless, I like it more than I can even admit to myself. I feel calm.

  Chapter 12

  Nia

  I flicker my eyes open with a confused haste, it feels like I’ve slept forever. And the most puzzling part, I don’t remember waking up in the middle of the night, not even once. I can’t even remember the last time that happened. I bring my hands from under the blanket to rub my eyes, adjusting my sight to the illuminated room. When I comb my fingers through my hair, a startled cry flits my mouth when I touch a hand that’s resting at the side of my head. My eyes rip open and I look up to see Reeves blinking away sleep.

  “Morning,” He greets me gruffly. I gaze at him with a mix of confusion and curiosity until the moments before I drifted off last night come back to me. I fell asleep… next to him. “Sleep well?” He asks, scrubbing his hands over his face, ending it with a short sigh.

  Too embarrassed to admit just how well, I just go with, “I was very tired.”

  “You looked too comfortable, and serene… I didn’t have the heart to wake you up.”

  “Thank you.” I smile at him. He reciprocates with a thin curve of his lips, his green eyes swallowing me in. My own eyes run over his face, not even trying to be subtle about it. The stubble decorating his cheeks is denser, adding a tougher edge to his raw, delectable appearance. As ridiculous as it may be, I’m less than thrilled to leave this position, but for the sake of not appearing clingy, needy, or pathetic, I slowly inch up.

  “Coffee,” I mutter, standing up. I stretch my neck from side to side and head to the bathroom.

  “I’ll make some.” His husky morning voice returns. I inwardly mock myself about how much I enjoy the little domestic morning exchange. Sad.

  Scrutinizing my face in the mirror while brushing my teeth, I decide that I look like a fresher version of myself. A version that finally had a good night’s sleep.

  There’s something about Reeves that puts me at ease, that just makes me want to, well, be next to him. His presence seems to distract me from… me. I can’t deny the serious attraction I have for him. If he hadn’t stopped that kiss last night, I would have probably embarrassed myself by climbing him faster than I could say, “slut.”

  I can’t overlook the sting of his elegant rejection. Subtle or not, it was still a rejection. Ouch. I guess I’m just not his type. Note to self, in order to prevent appearing pathetic don’t go at him, again.

  It’s been a while since I let anyone stay for a night, sleep while someone is next to me. It actually bewilders me that I let myself fall asleep next to him at all. I haven’t done that for a very long time.

  Reeves presses the last digit of his number into my phone as I see him to the door, after we have an easy talk over coffees, plural. Each. When his stomach started protesting and we checked my refrigerator for food, or more precisely the lack thereof, he asked if I wanted to join him for breakfast at his place. Just because I did, very much, I declined the invite with an excuse of grabbing something to eat on the way to the studio.

  “So, see you at Jake’s tonight?” He asks, as if we’ve discussed it before. I swallow the smile threatening to stretch my lips, too excited to learn he wants to see me later, again.

  “I guess.” I go for utterly-fake indifference. “We’ll probably be there anyway after the last class.” He cocks his head.

  “Alex and her gang.” The query becomes more evident in his features and I elaborate. “Alex, she’s also an instructor at the studio, and her friends. Th
ey go to Jake’s almost every night. I guess you’ll recognize them once you see them. Alex has purplish, spiky hair.” A smile crawls to his lips and stretches his prickly cheek. I notice that the green hue of his eyes is lighter, even brighter in morning daylight, for a short moment I space out, fixated on it.

  “The girls who gave the adult show last night?” I’m pulled back to the present by his question. Busted. He grins, noticing my ogling. I twist my mouth with a hint of a smile.

  “Yep, them.” His face lights up. I shake my head and push him out the door.

  “Bye…” Turning on my heels, I head to get started for the day, beaming.

  ~~~

  I rummage through my bag for the third time, starting to lose my patience. Exasperated, I turn the damn thing upside-down and let the content spill to the floor. No, not in here. I send a glance to the watch above the studios’ glass door, I won’t make it home and back in time for my class. Crap. My entire lesson is based on a new song I was planning to teach the girls. I worry my lips, searching my mind for some creative enlightenment, and it marches in… in the most alluring form… Reeves.

  Hey, at home? Busy? I text him, more than grateful he added his number to my phone earlier.

  My favorite neighbor. Am here, s’up? My lips immediately pull up with his reply.

  Can I ask for the biggest favor?

  Shoot.

  Any chance you could bring me something I forgot at home? Pretty please.

  I’m not breaking into your apartment.

  Key under the rug :)

  R U FUCKING KIDDING ME?????

  Disregarding the bold, capital animosity, I ask him to bring me the memory stick I’ve apparently left on my kitchen table.

  Waiting for Reeves, I tidy up the room, putting away shiny balls and colourful hoops, then start my stretching routine. I lift my leg to rest on the wooden railing, holding the point of my dance shoes, I bend my body as far as I possibly can until it starts to feel far from comfortable. While changing legs, I catch a glimpse of someone watching me through the mirrored wall. I’m not sure what makes me slightly warm, perhaps it’s the weight of the stare boring into me, because I do, in parallel to a small flutter in my belly.