Chapter 1

He didn’t seem to notice that I was staring at him.  Probably because he was studying his book in an effort to not look like he had just been staring at me.  I stepped up to the counter and placed my order for a skim chai latte, still keeping an eye on him with my peripheral vision.  He looked up again when he could feel the heat of my eyes was off him, but I couldn’t tell if he was looking at me or just looking around.  I hoped it was the former.  I walked down to the other end of the counter to wait for my drink and took the chance to look over at him again.  We locked eyes – he had been looking at me afterall.  One corner of my mouth turned up into a half-smirk, half-smile as I returned his gaze.  I let my eyes do the touching as I looked him up and down.  He leaned back in his chair, surprised, before averting his eyes.  The apples of his round cheeks burned a fierce pink.

“Stephanie?” the barrista called out.  I thanked him and took my drink to the front corner of the store where a cozy purple velvet couch was snuggled up by the fireplace.  I couldn’t believe my luck!  Normally the couch and its accompanying green velvet love seat and red velvet chairs were all filled by students studying for the exam of the moment with iPod earbuds jammed in their ears.  Today the shop was empty, save a couple businessmen discussing market share and my new friend reading Steinbeck.  I shivered as I nestled down into the couch’s soft nap, holding my drink in both hands for warmth for a moment.  I set my cup down and started to root through my bag for my own book.  As I pulled it out, I could feel that there was someone standing nearby.  I looked up to see my new friend, standing in front of me, looking nervous.

“Hi.  Do you mind if I sit here? There’s a draft where I was sitting.”  He was trying hard to look casual, one hand stuck halfway into his snug pants pocket.

“Sure, I’d rather have the company, actually,”  I said, beaming at him encouragingly.  

“Thanks!”  He sat down across from me in the green loveseat.  I couldn’t help but take note of how much of the loveseat he filled.  I tried not to stare.  It was impossible.

“What’re you reading?” I asked to give myself a reason to keep looking at him.

“East of Eden.  I’m really liking it,” he said relaxing.  As he did, his gut pushed further into his lap, pulling the fabric between the buttons on his shirt apart.

“That is my favorite book!  I’m glad you’re enjoying it too.  It was just so… full.”  I looked down before looking into his eyes.  I hadn’t intended the parallel, but then my conscious mind didn’t seem to be taking the lead here.  I wondered if he had noticed.

“Yeah, I know what you mean, “ he looked down at the book in his hands. “There’s so much more there than what’s on the surface.  I love peeling back all the layers of the story and seeing what’s going on underneath and seeing how everything is intertwined at the same time.”

“Thou mayest,”  I said with understanding, and I hoped with a note of invitation.

The pink returned to his soft cheeks as the dual nature of the conversation began to dawn on him. “Exactly,” he replied in little more than a whisper.  I felt a little breathless too.

“I’m Stephanie, by the way,” extending my hand, just looking for any excuse to touch him at this point.

“Henry.”  His warm, soft-yet-substantial hand enveloped my cool, small one.  “Wow!  No wonder you’re sitting by the fire!”  He said, taking my hand in both of his.  “You’re freezing!”  I moved my other hand into his as well.  

“Yeah, I know.  I don’t make any heat of my own.”  I giggled and rolled my eyes.  “I have to depend on fires and handsome strangers’ hands to keep me warm.”  I smiled.  He looked a bit taken aback again, but more sure of himself than before.  He kept holding my hands.  I didn’t mind at all.  The way he was leaning forward showed his full gut to its best advantage.  His love handles poured over the sides of his jeans in thick roll which continued around to his back.  His arms, extended toward me,  strained the seams of his sleeves and looked like they could lift me off the ground without the slightest effort.  He rubbed my hands between his.  

“Feeling warmer?”  he asked.

“Much,”  I smirked, lowering my chin before looking into his eyes.  I was flirting without shame.  I saw the rhythm of his breathing change, his soft chest rising and falling faster than before.  I was feeling much warmer in more ways than one.