Neighbors

She climbed in the shower, suit still on, to wash off the chlorine and let her mind reflect on the events that had just happened. She couldn't make sense of it. After watching her in the pool, he had sprinted outside to talk to her, she was sure of it. She guessed he had also banged into something on the way out, because his pant leg had started to darken along his shin, she had noticed, before she had raised her head to introduce herself. She smiled to herself. What was going on? Why did he seem so nervous talking to her? She couldn't begin to understand it. She stopped trying to make sense of it all and instead thought only about him. He was at least half a foot taller than she was. He had to be over 6 feet, and she was only 5'6''. She was used to that, all the men in her family were tall. And she appreciated how broad and strong his hands were. She wasn't petite, and it always bothered her when men had smaller hands than she did. Once they had gotten past the stammering of his first attempt at an apology she noticed his eyes sparkled at hers. They were the deepest shade of brown she thought she had ever seen. Chestnut? Mahogony? Chocolate? She couldn't find the right color. She knew hers were impossible to describe, her driver's license said green but that wasn't accurate. They were gray, blue, green, flecked with gold. They changed color based on what she wore, and she knew they changed with her mood. Her mother had always told her anyone who truly got to know her could read her like a book, if they learned to read her eyes.

Her thoughts drifted back to him as she toweled off and threw on a T-shirt to climb into bed. She wondered about his name. "Oded... Middle Eastern?" she guessed, especially based on the wonderfully golden color of his skin. "Born there?" she also wondered, she had detected an accent when he spoke to her. Certainly possible he was American, or even Canadian, but his voice hinted that he was not. He had a scent too. "Spicy," she thought. "Warm... musky... ". She wondered if it was cologne. She hoped not, she didn't like a lot of cologne on men. What was she thinking, she chided herself, like she had a lot of experience with men's cologne, or men for that matter. Suddenly she felt a little nauseous again. Then she smiled to herself as she remembered his ears. If her eyes could be used to read her, she thought, she was guessing perhaps that you could read Oded by his ears. She realized as he had stood there stammering and fidgeting that his ears were red. It was hard to read the blush on his face because of his color, but his ears had given him away! She drifted away to sleep with this thought, exhausted from this day, emotionally drained from this night, she didn't even dream.

But he did. After he had returned to his townhouse from the pool and cleaned up the gash on his leg, he muttered to himself as the peroxide stung and bubbled, he brushed his teeth and headed to bed. He pulled off his T-shirt and boxers and climbed under the covers, naked. He immediately wondered what she slept in. Did she sleep nude like he did? That thought brought a smile to his lips. He guessed she didn't. She seemed to be on the shy side, and unless there was a wild woman hiding behind that facade he guessed she was the T-shirt and white cotton Hanes type. His mind wandered to the possibility of her sharing his bed. He imagined feeling the bed shift slightly as she sat on the edge, her white T-shirt covering her hips. She would lean down to kiss him, and he would catch his hand in her hair pulling her down on top of his chest, as he tasted her mouth. His hands would wander down her back to the edge of her T-shirt, pulling it upward around her waist, his fingers feeling her warm skin across her back. She would rise up and smile at him, then reach down and with crossed arms, pull her T-shirt over her head. He would watch the swell of her breasts in the moonlight as she pulled the T-shirt up and off, and he would reach up to cover them with his hands as her hair fell back around her shoulders and her arms came down. Her hands would cover his and she would look down at him and he would see her eyes, warm and glittering. She would lay back against the pillow and he would stroke her skin with his hands, gently kissing her neck and shoulders, then trailing down her upper chest until he felt the swell, he would slowly encircle the soft peak of her breast, until he could feel it harden under his tongue. She would arch her back and he would hear her catch her breath as she ran her hands across his shoulders and up into his hair. She would moan his name and he would smile at that, he thought to himself. He would let his hands wander to the edge of her panties, running a finger inside the top to feel the curls hidden underneath. He would slide his hand inside...

"Stop it, Oded!" he said out loud and sat up in bed. What was he doing? How could he let his mind do this? She had forgiven him for crossing a line with her earlier this evening, and although she had no idea what he was thinking, he felt guilty for letting this fantasy go this far. He had sensed when he talked to her that she would be gentle and understanding and probably fairly innocent. He felt like he was taking advantage of her just by letting his mind wonder about what her body would feel like under his. The guilt was back again. He threw himself down on his pillow, running his hands through his hair, pulling at the wisps on the top. He ran his hand gruffly across his beard and finally settled his clasped hands behind his head as he lay on his back staring at the ceiling. His feet twitching back and forth under the covers from the distraction in his head. He started thinking about dinner tomorrow. What he could make for her. Maybe he would suggest a walk afterwards, show her the neighborhood. He finally fell asleep, a grocery list running through his head.