I am aware that my cheeks are on fire as I retrieve my bag from the trunk. I try to avoid meeting Kevin’s eyes. I silently curse Claire: she could have said nothing and left me to realise in my own time that I had been unsubtle in my blatant mental undressing of the man in front of me. But no, Claire is the kind of person who finds it necessary to totally humiliate me at every possible opportunity.
I am partially gratified to observe that Kevin is similarly uncomfortable; that I am not alone in my attempt to glue my eyes to the ground shamefacedly. Only partially, mind you: some element of me is annoyed and irritated at Claire for embarrassing a virtual stranger.
Okay, I admit it. I’m lying.
I’m annoyed and irritated at Claire for embarrassing the virtual stranger whose voice has been mesmerising me for the past twenty minutes and whose physical appearance has currently stunned me into staring mutely. I guess you really don’t need a description, considering you are here reading this in the first place. But as describing Kevin gives me an opportunity to focus my thoughts on him once more.
To me, Kevin is not tall. Taller than me, yes, but not tall. (In my world, he would need to be six foot five to qualify as a tall guy). He has dark hair, fairly long, falling in what the English call ‘curtains’. His skin is tan (especially in comparison to me, the world’s palest inhabitant), covering the kind of bone structure you only see on Levi’s adverts: a strong jaw-line, high cheekbones. His body…you know what I am thinking here. I can identify wide shoulders, strong arms, powerful legs. Beyond that, I can only imagine…
It is his eyes that really grasp my attention.
They are vivid green; expressive. The kind of eyes that could prevent the most talented actor in the world from fully hiding his emotions. The kind of eyes that belie the most serious of expressions when they sparkle with life, or can show pain when outwardly the impression is of happiness. The kind of eyes that I could get lost in…Woah. Where did all that come from?
Claire interrupts my reverie: “Told ya you’d like Kevin”. This statement is accompanied by a suggestive wiggle of her eyebrows, and despite my temporary animosity towards her, I can’t help but grin. That would be a side effect of the mental images (hey! my thoughts are pure!) conjured up by her mention of his name. Thankfully, Kevin misses this: he has already relieved us of our bags and is making a move towards the house as I speak.
He holds the door open for us, telling us to head into the living room, second door on the right. Claire enters first, disappearing quickly into the aforementioned room. I pause to smile thanks at Kevin as I enter his house. Our eyes meet, and I’m reduced once again to silently staring, lost in the depths of his eyes. Man, since when did I get this mushy? I am NOT going to develop some silly ten year-old style crush on a guy that I hardly know. At least, I hope not. Not that it would be a bad thing, I mean, there’s nothing wrong with finding someone attractive, is there?
I’ve got to chill out. I only met the guy three minutes ago. He might be really odd. I bet he is. No one could look that good and be a decent person in addition…it wouldn’t be fair on the rest of the planet. Although he sounded like someone special on the phone; compassionate about his music, caring about his friends, funny, sweet... Oh shit, I’m descending into that juvenile infatuation thing again. My heart is pounding, and I get the feeling that the entire butterfly house at London Zoo has been released into my abdomen. I don’t remember feeling this way since I was ten and had to hold hands with Jonathon McKay during a game of chain tag one recess. How can a man who is fundamentally a stranger reduce me to this?
Kevin blinks a couple of times, and I return to the real world (thanking God he’s still in it…shut up Kelly!). His smile grows across his face hesitantly. He extends a hand and shyly says: “I’m Kevin…it’s nice to meet you.”
I smirk. “I think that after three tries we will have definitely mastered the introduction thing. I’m Kelly. Call me Kel.”
“All your friends do?” The comment is intended to be smart-arsed, but there is an underlying questioning tone that seems to suggest he hopes we will become friends.
“And all my enemies, you aren’t anything special!” (Yet, I add silently). He raises an eyebrow in mock indignation. To pacify him, I reach out and grasp his still outstretched hand.
I’ll be brutally honest now: sparks flew between us when our fingers touched. Literally.
“Wow,” Kevin enthuses, “do you usually attempt to electrocute every guy you meet?” I can’t help but laugh at the surprised look he is giving me as he shakes his hand.
“I guess this jumper and those car seats rub each other up the wrong way!” My comment leaves me at a loss for words. Kevin too apparently: he opens his mouth to speak, makes no sound and so shuts it abruptly. The sparkle in his eyes suggests he is shocked and pleasantly surprised at what could be interpreted as implicit sexual suggestion.
“Are you guys ever coming in?” Claire’s voice floats out from inside
the house, breaking the silence. Kevin theatrically sweeps his arm to
indicate that I should enter first, and we make our way to the living
room to meet his band mates. I wonder if they all compare favourably with
their eldest member…
Links to other sites on the Web
Get your own Free Home Page