CATALYST

DAVID

"I kept my eyes on my phone until I knew he was out of my view.

Then I exhaled.

This wouldn't be easy, having him around for two weeks. And yet...it would be completely easy. Enjoyable, even. It was the craziest thing—I felt comfortable with Travis in a lot of ways. He was easy to talk to, he made me laugh, he was interesting and fun and different. I liked hearing about his life in Japan, too. It gave me some insight into why he was the way he was.

Where it got uncomfortable was when my body reacted to him. A hitch in my breath. A tightening in my chest. Heat in my blood. Provocation of that thing in me that existed only to want and didn't care about the consequences.

It was maddening that I couldn't feel those things for someone like Joleen, who was perfect for me in every other way. Why should it be Travis who ignited that fire in me, rather than her? What was it about him that wouldn't let me out of its grasp? Why was I being punished this way?

As if being pulled by magnetic force, I walked over to the chair where he'd hung the sweatshirt I'd loaned him. Glancing out the sliding glass door to the patio, I saw him standing by the rosebushes at the side of the yard, the sun glinting off the glitter of sweat in his neck and arms. I picked up the sweatshirt and brought it to my face.

It was still warm from his body.

I inhaled slowly. Soap. Fabric softener. But there was something else there, too. At the deep end of my breath was the heady, masculine scent of his skin, and I held it captive in my lungs, closed my eyes.

You inside me.

My mind feasted on the scent. I felt my lips on his skin, my hands on his back, my chest against his. He was warm and strong and hard and—

Two quick knocks on the glass door made me jump, my eyes flying open to find Maxim standing there on the patio, his head turned, so he was looking away from me. I immediately dropped the sweatshirt onto the chair and slid the door open.

"Hey."

He looked at me, his face impassive. "Hey. Do you have some gloves?"

"Uh, yeah." My face was probably fifty fucking shades of red. But he hadn't seen anything, right? "Be right out."

I put my shoes on again and went out to the garage, where I rummaged around on my workbench shelves. Where the hell were those gloves? I knew where everything was in this garage, so why the fuck couldn't I find them? My mind was cloudy with confusion and shame. Had he seen what I was doing? He couldn't have. He wasn't even looking at me when he knocked. And even if he had, he knew how I was about neatness. He probably thought I was going to hang the sweatshirt up somewhere, or put it in the guest room.

My heart rate slowed, and I remembered where the gloves were. I pulled them off the shelf and slipped them on for a second, flexing and fisting my hands.

"Find some?" Travis called from outside.

"Yeah." Quickly I tugged them off and headed into the sunshine, squinting at the light. I'd forgotten to put my sunglasses back on. "Here you go."

I handed them to him and watched him put them on, sliding his fingers into the spaces mine had occupied a moment before.

It was almost like touching him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hey." I switched my phone to my left hand and reached for a couple lemons with my right.