3. Melanie
Chapter Three
MELANIE
When I was six, I was playing hide-and-go-seek with my older brother. I hid in an old broom closet and somehow the latch got stuck. I couldn’t get out and he didn’t hear me screaming because our sister was blasting music. They found me thirty minutes later, and since then, I have been claustrophobic.
I keep my eyes closed as I will myself to calm down. We’ll be fine. A million thoughts run through my head. What if the elevator goes crashing to the bottom? What if I have to pee or worse…? What if the smell of the food makes me sick? What if…
“Melanie? Are you OK?” I hear Xavier’s voice precariously close to my face.
His hand touches my arm and I swear I feel a zap of electricity pass between us. I open one eye and find him leaning toward me, a look of concern in his eyes.
I swallow and nod. “I…just don’t like confined spaces,” I admit. Why am I admitting this? I feel my cheeks burning.
“I…could try to distract you…” he whispers. His breath heats the side of my face.
“How?” I inquire, opening my eyes and turning my head to look at him.
“How about truth or dare?” he suggests.
I roll my eyes. “That sounds like a horrible idea.”
He grins.
“Fine,” I groan.
“Truth or dare?” he asks.
“Truth,” I say because I don’t feel like jumping and finding out the elevator can plummet.
“How long have you been watching me?”
My eyes shoot from a mark on the floor up to his. He has a smug knowing look on his face. Suddenly, I’m not scared, I’m annoyed.
“Watching you?” I repeat.
“I could see you glancing over at me before the elevator stopped. And I’ve seen you do it before, every time we’re in here together, yet you’ve never said more than hello.”
I take my coat off because I’m beginning to feel overheated, and I don’t think it’s because of the small confined space.
I drop the coat on the ground and look back over at him. He’s leaning back, waiting for my answer. I hesitate as I open my mouth and close it again. Then, something in me just snaps. Why do I care? What do I have to lose?
I shrug. “Fine. Yes, I may have been ogling you.”
“Ogling me?” he repeats with a laugh.
I narrow my eyes at him. He presses his lips together, holding his hands up in some form of an apology. “Fine. That’s a truth.”
He motions for me to go.
“Truth or dare?” I ask.
“Dare.”
My eyes widen as I look around us. Then, my gaze lands on the box. I can smell the turkey from here and it smells really good.
“Eat a drumstick,” I say smiling as I cross my arms and motion with a finger toward the box.
His eyes dart toward it and back at me. He purses his lips as if considering my request.
“Fine,” he finally says as he opens the box and reaches inside. He doesn’t pull out a drumstick but instead a bottle of wine.
“I want a drink with my turkey,” he says matter-of-factly as he unscrews it and sips from the bottle. Then he reaches back into the box and retrieves a drumstick. He takes a bite and groans. My lady bits suddenly go from a warm simmer to a pulsing lava field. Holy fuck, that’s hot!
“You have to try this. I think it’s my best turkey ever.”
“Ever?”
He nods.
“How many turkeys have you made?”
He takes another bite and then hands it to me. “This is my first.”
I pause as the meat hovers in front of my lips. He reaches up and guides it to my mouth. I take a small bite. My eyes roll back in my head and the moan that leaves my mouth is…well, it’s a little embarrassing.
When I open my eyes again, I meet his darkened ones. I swallow and watch his jaw clench.
“You weren’t kidding. This is some good bird.”
He watches my lips as I chew and swallow.
“My turn,” I say, trying to defuse the sexual tension that seems to have sucked all the air from this little metal box where we are trapped.
“Truth or dare?” he asks, his voice raspy and an octave lower than before.
“Dare,” I decide.
His eyes flash with excitement. “You have to let me have a bite of whatever is in that covered container,” he states as he points to my sweet potato casserole.
I grin as I pull back the top and reveal the dish. He reaches into his box and pulls out a fork.
“What the heck else do you have in there?” I ask with a laugh.
“Tom’s weird and makes us bring our own dishes. Don’t ask.”
“Tom’s your friend?”
He nods. I take the fork and get a big piece of casserole, holding it out for him. He leans forward and slowly accepts the forkful, his lips closing around the fork. Just when I think this man eating off a fork that I’m holding can’t possibly get any hotter, his tongue darts out and he licks the last drop of casserole from the base of the fork. His tongue does this curling action at the end, and I swear I orgasm on the spot.
“Is it hot in here or is it just me?” I ask as I pull the fork back and begin to fan myself with my hand.
“Truth,” he states, ignoring my question.
“Do you…” I pause as I consider my words. “Have you noticed me before?”
He scoots forward and brushes a single finger under my eye, pulling it back to reveal an eyelash.
“Make a wish,” he says.
I close my eyes, and for some reason that I cannot explain in any rational way, I wish for him to kiss me. I blow air across his index finger and the eyelash sails into the air.
“Yes. How could I not notice you, Melanie?”
My throat constricts. “Then…why didn’t you ever talk to me before.”
“I tried, but you were always occupied, headphones on or a conversation on your phone. The opportunity didn’t present itself…and I guess I was a little scared to put myself out there again.”
“You? You were scared?” I ask, my mouth falling open in surprise.
He chuckles. “A guy can be scared too, you know.”
“Can he?” I ask skeptically.
“He can,” he assures me.
“If you say so. You want to know the truth?” I ask.
He nods.
“I always tried to pretend to be occupied because I was scared to talk to you for similar reasons. I moved here because I caught my fiancé with his assistant.”
I see anger flash over Xavier’s features. “He was an idiot and you deserve better.”
“What about you?” I ask.
He sighs. “She said she loved me. Dumped my ass. And started dating my ex-best friend.”
“Wow.”
“My ex-best friend was a girl.”
“Double wow. You win. Not that this is a competition, but shit, that’s awful.”
“I got a job offer here two weeks later. I left and haven’t looked back since.”
“I can’t blame you. I mean…wow.”
“I think you covered all the ‘wows,’” he says with another laugh.
He scoots over and the elevator shifts a little. I squeak and grab onto his shoulders.
“It’s alright. I got you,” he whispers. We both sit still for a moment. “I think we’re OK.”
I feel my heart start to speed up and I close my eyes as I will my anxiety to go away.
“Melanie?”
“Uh-huh?” I answer while keeping them closed.
“I’m going to do a dare to help you stop freaking out. Just tell me to stop if it’s not alright, OK?”
“Sure. Yeah, whatever,” I mumble as I continue to try to compose myself. But just as I suck in a deep breath, I feel his lips against mine. Soft and warm, he presses them slowly at first, testing out my reaction. And when I pull him closer and part my lips, he grins before deepening the kiss.