Melissa Collins: Let Love Heal

“Okay, so can you come back after class, Melanie?” The way my name sounds coming from his full lips makes my pulse skitter. For the first time ever, I feel noticed. This hot piece of man-cake is actually talking to me and looking at me and saying my name. And, call me crazy, but he’s not just being nice because I’m applying for this job. There’s something playful and flirty going on in his eyes, in his voice, in his body language.

I’m a terrible flirt – never had much practice with it, but standing here talking with Bryan has me all sorts of soft and mushy.

Oh, what the hell. I’ll give it a try. Isn’t that what college is about? Trying out new things and all that.

I bat my long lashes and reach for the papers that he’s brought out for me to complete. When my fingers graze over his, I leave them there for a second longer than I should. I could still be adjusting to the bright, fluorescent lighting, but I swear that his eyes just widened a bit at my touch.

“I’ll bring these back to you after class, Bryan.” I don’t mean for it, but my voice is pitched a bit lower than usual and has a sultry, feminine sound to it. It’s enough to make his eyes widen yet again.

Oh. My. God. It’s working. I’m flirting with him and it’s working. I actually have an effect on him.

He lets go of the papers and says, “Great. Then I’ll meet you here later.” Cue the smile and the sparkly eyes all over again. He’s just plain gorgeous.

As promised, I returned the papers to Bryan after class. I was completely shocked when he called me just a few hours after that to tell me that I got the job. When Bryan told me to come in the next morning to go over a few things and set up my schedule, my belly did that crazy flip-flop thing again. See him again? Yes, please!

Stepping into the lab for the second time is more nerve-wracking than the first. I immediately see Bryan set up behind the main desk. Sporting a vintage Pac-Man t-shirt and drool-worthy jeans, he looks edible.

When he catches sight of me, he smiles brightly, illuminating the entire room. As he walks toward me, he trips on a loose computer cord, but he quickly recovers. I can’t help but giggle.

“What’s so funny?” he questions, feigning injury.

“Oh, nothing. Just noticing that you seem a bit clumsy, that’s all.” My mouth quirks at the corners and my eyes dance playfully across his laughing face.

Dismissing the current topic of conversation, Bryan tells me that he’s got a computer all set up for me to work on.

I pull out the rolling chair from under the desk and he does the same with the one next to me. Since we only need one screen, Bryan rolls his chair right up next to me. His knee brushes up against mine a few times, and when he reaches across the desk to type something on the keyboard, a flash of heat rolls across my arm at his touch.

He feels it too and he looks down at my goose bump covered arm. Tripping over his words, he says, “I … um … sorry about that.”

My tongue feels too big for my now dry mouth. Saying “It’s okay.” takes a ridiculous amount of effort.

After filling in the last lines of my user profile, he saves the document and checks his watch. “That should do it for today.” I stand and drape my bag over my arm, suddenly desperate for any reason to stay and talk to him some more.

“So when should I come back? I mean, do you have my schedule ready?” I tuck a loose piece of hair behind my ear and look up at him shyly.

“Yeah, hold on. Let me go get it.” As I watch him walk back into the office, I try to calm my erratic breathing.

When he hands me the paper, I scan through it and see that Thursday afternoon is my first shift. I also have to be here early on Friday to be trained in opening the lab, which works out well because my first class isn’t until ten on Fridays. It doesn’t say anything about who else will be on with me tomorrow, so with hope in my words I ask, “Will you be here for any of these shifts?”

His eyes light with humor and he grins at me. “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see” is the only response I get as he escorts me to the door.

About halfway through my shift on Thursday, Bryan comes into the lab with a brown paper bag and two Styrofoam cups. He winks at me as he walks to the computer that I’m working on.

“Hey, Melanie. How’s everything going?” God, his voice is sexy.

“Good, I think.” The computer takes that opportunity to bleep and yell some kind of error message at me. So much for “good” I guess.

“Oh shit! What did I do?” Panicking, I start hitting random keys in the hopes that I’ll be able to undo whatever I just did.

Placing the bag and drinks on a desk away from the computers, Bryan leans over my shoulders from behind and reaches his hands to the keyboard in front of me. His cologne is warm and woodsy – so masculine, so yummy. He’s typing something, but all I can see is the corded muscles of his forearm strain under his tanned skin. With his face right next to mine, his warm breath tickles my neck. “See right here?” he points to something on the screen, and by some miracle, I’m able to open my eyes enough to look at what he’s pointing at.

“Uh huh,” I say dumbly.

He chuckles softly. “Well, if that ever happens again, all you have to do is type in this command before hitting save and you’ll be fine.”

“Great, thanks.” I look up over his shoulder at the clock and realize that it’s just about time for me to leave. The other employee, Derek, who will be closing up the lab tonight, got here about thirty minutes ago.

I shut down the computer and start to gather my things. “Thanks again, Bryan. I’m done here for the night. I guess I’ll see you soon.”

The warm and firm grasp of his hand around my forearm stops me in my tracks. “Have dinner with me?” he asks bluntly as he eyes the bag and drinks that he came in with.

Out of some crazy instinct, I look back up at the clock and try to decline. “No, it’s okay. Really, I should get going.” I try to walk past him again but he won’t let me.

“Please. Come on. Sandwiches out on the quad and then I’ll walk you home. Nothing big. I promise.” My stomach chooses this moment to grumble and I know that any further protest is futile.

“Okay,” I agree and we walk out into the warm fall air.

Bryan sets us up under the shade of a large oak tree and the meal passes in mostly mundane conversation about classes and roommates. When the conversation stops altogether, I gaze at the beautiful mountain scenery out in the distance. It’s at this moment that I catch Bryan staring at me.

Immediately self-conscious, I move to cover my mouth. “Is there something in my teeth?” I’m sure that my face is some shade of red – being fair skinned makes any kind of blush plainly visible.

He gently coaxes my hand away from my mouth. Bryan leans forward, and runs his thumb long my bottom lip. “Nope. Nothing in your teeth. Just had some mustard right there.” He cleans his hand on a napkin but my lip is seared by his touch.

I’m fairly quiet the rest of the meal, because after feeling his finger on my lip, I can’t think of anything worthwhile to say.

When he walks me to my building, I don’t know what to do. A handshake is dopey – we’re not business partners or anything like that. A hug seems too close, too personal. Jumping up into his arms and making out with him, well, I guess I’ll just reserve that for my fantasy. So when we get to the door, I just smile at him dumbly and say, “Thanks for dinner. I’ll see you soon.”

His lopsided and goofy smile precedes his words. “Yes, you definitely will.”