Megan Hart - Switch

"Yeah, the layout's not so great in here." He looked

around, then shifted the papers off the chair next to him.

"Sorry, though. You want to sit?"

I took the chair two spots away from his and pushed my

basket to the side with my foot. He stil smiled at me, so I

smiled back. "Thanks."

"Fancy meeting you here," he said.

"Here, there. Everywhere." I tapped a finger against my

chin, feigning thoughtfulness. "Are you stalking me?"

To my delight, his cheeks pinked. Just a little. But enough.

"It would seem like that, huh?"

I shook my head and bent to pul a handful of laundry from

I shook my head and bent to pul a handful of laundry from

my basket. "Missed you around the gym lately."

I looked up and caught a flash of something in his gaze.

Guilt, maybe, though why Eric should care if I kept track

of his workouts, I didn't know. He shrugged and ran a

hand over his shaggy hair.

I stuffed a load of whites into the nearest washer as we

spoke. I was conscious of my panties and bras among my

T-shirts and blouses, but I didn't draw attention to them by

blushing, even when I caught him looking.

Eric had a smile as slow and easy as honey dripping from

a spoon. I wanted to lick it the same way. "Did you?

Damn. I'm sorry."

We looked at each other, surrounded by the scent of

fabric softener and moist, hot air.

"Were you…looking for me?" Eric asked. "For any reason in particular, I mean?"

Heat flushed my cheeks, and I answered with laughter and

a duck of my head. Eric laughed, too, after a second. His

voice joined mine like a duet, and when I looked up at

voice joined mine like a duet, and when I looked up at

him, his deep brown eyes were shining with good humor

and undisguised interest.

"Were you?"

"Yes," I admitted. "It's not quite the same without you there."

"Sorry. Work's been insane."

I stuffed my quarters in the slot and dumped half a cup of

detergent, then started the cycle. "What do you do,

exactly?"

Eric leaned back in his chair. "I'm an E.R. doc."

Bing, bing, bing! We have a winner! Hot, funny and a doctor. My mother would be so proud.

"What's that like?"

He looked a little surprised. "Busy. But exciting."

"Saving lives and al that? Lots of pressure," I said,

watching his mouth form the words as he spoke.

"Yeah," Eric said after a second or two of silence. A

"Yeah," Eric said after a second or two of silence. A

shadow passed over his face, but only briefly. "Lots of

pressure. What do you do, Paige?"

I told him without making it sound as if I was at al

ashamed of not being a doctor. If Eric wasn't as impressed

with my career as I with his, his eyes didn't give it away.

Neither did his mouth, which held on to his smile.

The conversation flowed as we washed, dried and folded

our clothes.

"I bet that color looks great on you." He pointed at the

blue shirt I'd puled from the dryer.

I held it up in front of me. "You think so?"

"Yes. It matches your eyes."

I'm hardly ever at a loss for words, but this time I only

managed to swalow, hard, and say, "Thanks."

He scrubbed the back of his neck with a hand and looked

utterly endearing. "Too much?"

"No. I'd be a liar if I said I don't like compliments." To save myself from having to look at him just then, I bent to

save myself from having to look at him just then, I bent to

pul more laundry from the dryer.

"And you're not a liar?"

Over my shoulder, I said, "No. What about you?"

I'd meant it lightheartedly, the way the entire conversation

had been going. So when Eric didn't answer, I straightened

and turned to face him. The look on his face stopped me

from speaking.

"I know where it was." He snapped his fingers. "Where I saw you for the first time. It wasn't the gym."

I drew in a breath. My hands, ful of warm, soft laundry,

tightened. My tongue slid along my lips as I considered

what to say. "No. It was the Mocha."

"No. That's not it. Have we ever met in the Mocha?" He

laughed and covered his eyes with his hands for a second

before looking at me again. "I'm sorry. I meet so many

people, sometimes I forget where I met them. But believe

me, I wish I did remember seeing you there."

"We didn't actualy meet. I just saw you. You were sitting

"We didn't actualy meet. I just saw you. You were sitting

by the window, writing something. Very serious. You

wouldn't have noticed me, anyway. You were busy."

"I should've noticed you, Paige." His smile let me know

exactly what he meant by that.

I laughed again. "But you didn't. Because you meet

soooooo many people. So. If it wasn't the Mocha, or

outside by the smoking station—"

Again, that flash of something furtive and guilty in his gaze.

"And it wasn't the gym," I continued as though I hadn't

seen it. "Where was it?"

His dark eyes gleamed again. "Outside the Speckled

Toad."

My mouth opened, but I had nothing to say.

He snapped his fingers again and crowed, laughing. "Yes!

I'm right, right? That's where it was? I knew you looked

familiar!"

"I love that place." With my laundry in my hands, there

was no chance I was going to leap into his arms, so I kept

was no chance I was going to leap into his arms, so I kept

it there.

"Me, too." Eric's smile softened as he looked over my

face. He seemed to be studying me harder this time. He

nodded after a moment. "Yes. That's definitely it. A few

weeks ago, right? You were going in and—"

"You were going out. Yes." I pretended to just remember

now. "I guess that's why when I saw you in the Mocha I

noticed you. You looked familiar."

It sounded like a much better story, said that way, and

Eric's grin stretched wider. "Uh-huh. Wow. Smal world,

huh?"

"Infinitely."

I wanted to kiss him. I wanted him to kiss me. Instead, I

bent to finish puling the rest of the clothes from the dryer

and into my basket. He was stil staring when I stood, my

basket in my hands.

"What are you doing after you're done with your laundry?"

"I thought I'd read my book…" I glanced at the clock on

the wal, then back at him. "I have to work tomorrow.

the wal, then back at him. "I have to work tomorrow.

Why?"

"I was going to watch a movie. Monty Python and the

Holy Grail . Have you seen it?"

"No." I drew the word out, slow, not wanting to jump to

conclusions.

"Would you like to?"

I pretended to think about it, though inside I was already

screaming out the YESYESYES of Saly's deli orgasm in

When Harry Met Sally . "Are you asking me to watch it

with you?"

"I am." He spread his hands at his sides. "How about it?"

"Sure. Why not? Just let me put this stuff away and I'l

come over."

"Great!" He flashed straight, white teeth and al I could

think about was how they'd feel denting my flesh. "Half an

hour, then? Forty minutes?"

"Sounds good."

"I'm in one-fourteen," Eric said.

I dropped my basket.

Chapter 18

"Are you al right?" Eric had already gone to one knee to gather my scattered clothes while I did nothing but gape.

The world made one slow revolution as everything

changed.

I recovered wel, or at least wel enough to keep him from

checking my pulse and offering me CPR. I watched his

strong, big hands slide along my clothes and put them back