Post Traumatic

Chapter 3-Almost is the same as Never

Chapter 3

Miranda’s pov

Staring at the painting that I had finished days ago, I probably looked like a confused puppy dog the way my head was twisting back and forth. It was his face, only with a sexy, sly smirk on his face. This is how I would like to see him. His eyes are so sad and haunted when he looks at me. Sighing, I made my way to the roof of my apartment building. Someone who lived here before me put a great deal of money into creating a “yard” here on the roof. My bare feet squished into the cool grass, which is actually some sort of astro-turf. Walking to the stereo I pushed play as the music from the orient began weaving its powerful spell upon me. In the center of the grass, I began my routine. Closing my eyes I began breathing slowly in and out as if I was pulling a fragile, line strip of fine silk through my nose and into my lungs. My body started the movements of tai chi that I was taught long ago. As I finished my routine, the world seemed brighter when I opened my eyes ending my actions.

Today, I was to go to Jasmine’s house to have dinner with her and her brother Blake. If I were being honest I was extremely nervous about seeing Blake for the first time since the incident. For some reason I was having a problematic time trying to find a suitable outfit to wear to the “guy who strangled me” house. First I had a peach colored peasant top but it seemed too frumpy, then I switched for a simple skirt and suit type shirt. That seemed too formal for a friend’s dinner. Finally, I gave up and settled for a pair of jeans and a fitted t-shirt. Looking in the mirror I slapped on some clear lip gloss and turned to make sure I didn’t have any issues with my clothing like a ripped down the seam type issue. Nope, all good as far as catastrophes so far. On my way to Jazzy’s house, I stopped off for a bottle of cheap red wine. The closer I came to her home the louder my heart thumped. I wasn’t sure if it was fear or excitement of seeing his sad green eyes and what lies behind them. Parking my car, I checked my gloss in the mirror. Reaching over I grabbed the bottle of wine and forced my hand to open the door. As I went to knock on the door it was thrown open by Jazzy.

“Bout time you got your happy ass over here,” she said as she grabbed the wine looking it over. “Sweet, red, my favorite. Okay you are off of the hook for being late, chika,” she said with a teasing tone. We walked toward the kitchen and the anticipation was racing through my veins furiously. Rounding the corner, relief and disappointment flooded me as I took in the empty kitchen.

“What is up with you, you are being so dang quiet?” Jazzy asked me tentatively.

“No sleep equals weird Miranda I guess,” I told her trying to make my tone friendly and light as she would expect from me.

“I should be considered bizarre then,” I heard a flat, deep, masculine tone from directly behind me. Without conscious thought I gasped and turned quickly to see his hulking figure not more than a foot away from my face. Looking up into the green eyes that had haunted me since seeing them so long ago, I stuttered and never could make real words come out of my lips. He didn’t seem to notice as he walked around me to take the bottle of wine from Jazzy, considering that she was still trying and failing to open it. Within a second I heard the familiar pop of the bottle being uncorked; his strength was amazing. Easily reaching into the top cabinet to retrieve three wine flutes he sat them on the table as he began to slowly decant wine into each goblet. We had finally sat down and he was seated directly across from me, which left me to try not to stare at him through the entire dinner. It was odd though because the couple of times I looked at him he was looking intently at me.

“So, Miranda how did the tie dye sale go at the fair last weekend?” Jazzy asked trying to start some conversation in the awkward silence that we had been struggling through.

“Great actually, I made over $600, which is better than I have done in the past two years at that fair,” I said perkily. She smiled and he was still just looking at me. I heard a thump and saw him grimace slightly.

“That’s a lot of money for one day of work,” he said questioningly.

“Well, really its more than one day because it takes me a few days to make the products that I sell. So technically I guess its more like two or three days work,” I replied looking at him forehead so that I wouldn’t get my words all muddled from looking in his eyes.

“Maybe you can show me how you make it sometime?” he asked. For the first time since we had sat down I looked up into his jade orbs instantly getting lost from anything that was happening around me.

“Yeah, that would be fun,” I said timidly. His eyes lightened with what seemed like amusement for a second but then it was gone and he just began eating again. My heart hurt for the pain I saw in him.

Blake and I had dish duty since Jazzy did all the cooking she said it was only fair. So here I was washing and he was rinsing and drying. We were nearly done and had not said even a word to one another. As I started to put the just washed glass in the rinse water, he reached for it and our hands brushed. We both froze and our eyes met for the second time tonight. His head began getting closer to mine his eyes never leaving mine as if he was seeking my permission. I could feel his warm, moist breath on my lips and mine were already tingling awaiting the feel of his. Would he be a rough or a sweet, soft kisser?

“Aren’t you guys finished with the dishes yet?” Jazzy called from the other room. We jumped apart and he flashed a shy smile to me as he pulled the glass from my grip.

“Almost done,” I called back to her. I am so going to kill her for interrupting this.

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