Dances with Monsters(45)

He made a wry expression as he forked up some more lettuce. "Not always," he replied.

They continued their meal, and to her surprise, Drew found herself doing most of the talking. Sometimes she wondered if Heath was really listening, as he rarely made eye contact with her, but then he would ask a question pertaining to something she'd just said, probing for further information, and she would launch into her reply. She was surprised that he seemed to be genuinely interested in what she was saying. She wasn't sure how he was so good at getting her to talk when not very many other people around her were.

"Would you like dessert?" Drew asked when they were finished. "I made yogurt and fruit parfaits."

"That'd be great," Heath replied. "Thanks," he added as she bent to take his plate. Drew nodded over her shoulder to her extensive DVD collection.

"Feel free to pick out a movie," she said as she headed back into the kitchen. "If you have time, that is." She heard him move off the couch as she placed their dishes in her sink. She quickly prepared their parfaits, adding a sprinkle of granola on top, and brought them out, seeing Heath turning a DVD over in his hand.

"What did you find?" she asked, and he held it up in reply. She saw that it was the Devil's Advocate, and she realized she hadn't seen that one in a while.

"Sure, that's fine with me," she replied. He opened her DVD player and placed the disc inside as she used her remote controls to switch to DVD-mode on the television. She handed him his dessert dish.

"Fancy," he commented, flashing her a quick smile.

He seemed totally relaxed around her, she had noticed, completely in contrast to how flustered she felt internally. She felt nowhere near the anxiety she'd felt before, since he'd done a good job of putting her at ease with his calm presence, but the more she studied him, the more flustered she grew. She had always known he was a good-looking guy but she felt a jolt each time she looked him now. His lips were tantalizingly full, especially for a man, and his face was lightly covered in a scruffy five o'clock shadow. She found herself mesmerized by it, wondering what it would feel like under her delicate fingertips.

As though he could feel the heat of her stare, his eyes suddenly slowly rose from his dish to her. She quickly averted her eyes and focused on spooning up the cool, creamy vanilla yogurt, feeling her face heat up.

She heard his spoon tinkle against the glass of the dish, and she glanced up, seeing he was finished. She rose quickly just as he did, reaching out for it.

"I can take –" she began, and the words died in her throat when he stepped close to her and reached out, gently taking her dish from her hand, his fingers lightly brushing hers.

"I got it," he said softly, looking down at her and meeting her eyes full-on, and she swallowed hard when she realized she was practically against him. She stepped back and dropped onto the couch.

"Thanks," she said, clearing her throat and willing the fire on her face to extinguish. She heard him quietly set the dishes in the sink before he reappeared. She expected him to take up his spot in the corner again, several feet away from her, but instead he dropped down right next to her. A surge went through her as she kept her eyes on the TV.

Holy fuck, she thought. She felt completely conflicted. On one hand, it had become her natural reaction to instantly shy away from physical touch from most people. Even being affectionate with her family was hard sometimes, although closeness with her nieces and nephews was not a problem for her. And although she'd hugged Heath the previous weekend, it had been different because she had been the one to engage the touch; moreover, it had been quite tentative. But on the other hand, she knew how rude it would seem if she scooted away from him. It wasn't like he'd sat down in her lap, and there were still several inches of space between them. But he was close enough for her to feel his body heat and that made her want to run screaming into her bedroom and slam and lock the door. She swallowed hard and forced herself to stay absolutely still, trying to draw deep breaths through her nose as silently as possible and calm herself. After a moment, she felt herself relaxing a little. He smelled amazingly, and if she were being honest with herself, she realized—she remembered—that she liked being close to him.

"How many times have you seen this movie?" she asked him quietly, glancing over out of the corners of her eyes. If he sensed her discomfort at all, he kept it to himself. His body posture was completely relaxed, his long legs splayed out in front of him, his arms folded comfortably over his chest. She relaxed when she saw it; he wasn't going to be reaching for her. She wondered if he'd done that on purpose to put her at ease; if there was one thing she'd picked up about him, it was that he was much more observant and sensitive to her moods than he would ever let on.