Perfect Strangers (3 page)

"Is that so?" I watch him reach for something on
the floor in front of him. Sitting back up, he now has the other brandy glass
resting in his hand.

"You've three fingered me; now it's your turn." We
both look at each other, jointly shocked by my words.

"God, I can’t believe I just said that out loud.” My
face is heating up and I want to bury it in my hands. “We hardly know each
other and I'm talking about fingering, my waxing girl, and using your tie for
God knows what."

"You have nothing to worry about. I can't remember the
last time I've had this much fun with someone. You’re quite entertaining."

"Really?" I ask, totally surprised. "My
mother thinks I need to learn how to, and I quote, ‘control my tongue.’ But
every time I meet someone I'm attracted to, I start saying things that are
totally inappropriate."

"And this lack of filter issue only happens when you're
attracted to someone?" He quizzes me, while cocking a brow my way. He’s
one sexy gentleman. Lucky old me.

 
Crap, he caught the
“attracted” remark I made. I’d better explain a few things to him.

"Yeah, I tend to speak like a crazy person when I’m
around a hot guy. I have a chronic condition of hormone-induced
Tourette's."

Looking into his eyes, I continue. "You are my worst
case yet."

"Why's that?" he asks with a devilish smirk,
seeming to enjoy my discomfort.

"Jeez, I think that's fairly obvious," I declare.
"You've looked into the mirror, right?"

"Yes, daily, when I brush my teeth, comb my hair,
boring, necessary stuff like that," he dutifully outlines his morning
mirror routine.
Whatever...

"Well, then I'll just have to quote my favorite line
from the movie,
Zoolander
."
I
stop and pause before reciting the punch line in my best Derek Zoolander
accent. "You, Mr. Michaels, are really, really ridiculously good-looking."

He starts to laugh in this unbelievably cute way. I can't
resist it and join in too.

"You've got to be kidding me," he chokes out
between laughs. I find it difficult to believe that I am really
this
funny. Maybe he hangs around dull, stiff-lipped people. Who knows? But either
way he needs to know that I’m as serious as the boring people he likely
socializes with.

"No, you really, really are. You're one of the most
handsome men I've ever seen. I'd call you beautiful, but you'd probably not
like that tag. Most men think it's weird or something."

His eyes stay locked on mine as the glow of the dashboard
lights reflect off his face. His gaze becomes serious. All previous humor is
missing.

"Thanks for the compliment, Kat." His voice is
soft, gentle. I want to reach over and take his hand, but I can’t break this
moment just yet.

"It's hard to believe you have no idea what a catch you
are.” My words make him bashfully bow his head. Could he be any more adorable?

“Okay, here’s the list I’ve compiled in the hour we’ve been
together.” He looks wary, but I continue on. “You're sweet, handsome and
successful. I didn't think guys like you really existed."

There’s a moment of quietness once I quit speaking and the
atmosphere between us changes. It makes me want to reach out and touch him perhaps
caress his hand with my fingers. I've never, ever desired someone like this.
This “thing” I’m feeling toward him is pretty strong.

Throwing care to the wind, I decide to reach across the
console and boldly take his hand in mine. His next breath comes out in an
audible gasp as our fingers touch. His eyes look down and watch as our hands entwine
together.

Holding his hand up slightly I ask, "Is this
okay?" He nods and I smile, glad to know I’m not being too forward.

As we continue to hold hands, I feel something intense in
our connection and touch. I can’t help but hope he’s feeling something for me
too. Next thing I know he brings my hand up to his perfect lips.

As he gently kisses my knuckles, it’s clear we’re both
feeling something now. I close my eyes and hum quietly while his lips caress my
skin. It feels heavenly. My entire body moves toward him and our shoulders
touch, coming together over the center console.

After his gentle kisses cease, he continues to rub my hand
with his fingers and whispers, "You feel so soft, so warm."

“Thanks. This is the best wreck ever.” I sigh contentedly
and he laughs.

“You’ve been in quite a few wrecks then?”

“No, just this one. Best and only.” I smile up at him. Our
hands are still clasped together.

“I’m beginning to wonder if we’ll be rescued before
midnight,” he speculates.

“God, I hope so. It’s not New Year’s Eve unless I see a ball
drop.” I turn red and he laughs. I’m beginning to see a pattern here. I speak
in my unique form of Tourette’s and he seems to think it’s as funny as hell.

“You have a knack for saying things that seem innocent but
could also be dirty. Quite the talent.” He smirks and I die a little or maybe a
lot.

“Yes, my mother has trophies all over the house from my
exploits.” I turn away from him rather embarrassed but my movement makes him
hold my hand a little tighter. He’s not letting me go and I’m happy about that.

“Sorry, Kat. I’m kidding. Truth is I find your ‘condition’
pretty damn cute.” He smiles and it makes me smile back. “I have an idea. Let’s
play a little game. Get to know one another. Whatta ya say?”

“Maybe a little strip poker followed by a quick game of
Twister?” I let out a quick snort because that was bad even for me.

“That’s rather progressive for a first date, don’t you
think?” And he’s back to rubbing my fingers and I feel myself melting back into
his lovely leather seats.

“A first date?” I don’t think he’s joking.

“We could call it that. Stranded in a snowstorm. It’s a
pretty unique way for two perfect strangers to meet.”

“Yes, it is,” I have to agree with him. “I’ve had a second,
third or maybe even a twentieth date that wasn’t this memorable.”

Lights come shining through the back window of the car.
They’re flashing red, illuminating our little space. I know what they mean. Our
time together is up, finished, and I feel sad.

I need to get my disabled car towed and Drew will probably
drive off after wishing me well. Maybe he was headed to a friend’s party where
a girl is happily waiting for him. By tomorrow, he’ll forget me and I’ll be
trying to forget him. But I know that’s impossible. It may take some time to
get this guy out of my head… and heart.

“Looks like we have company,” he says curtly. He doesn’t
seem thrilled to see the lights either. A little flicker of hope lights up within
me. Maybe just maybe...

A knock on the window startles me, and I watch as Drew
lowers the window to see who’s there. Snow whirls into the car as the outside
air is exposed. It’s blowing hard, even harder than it was when my car hit the
side of the bus.

“Good evening,” a gruff male voice says to us. His face is
partially covered by a thick scarf. “I’m Officer Kowalski. You’ll need to
evacuate your car and follow me to the rescue vehicle.”

“You want me to just leave my car here?” Drew questions. He
sounds freaked at the thought of leaving his beloved car here.

“There’s no other choice. The bus can’t be moved tonight and
the snow trucks won’t be clearing this area until tomorrow. So this car isn’t
going anywhere tonight.”

“Okay. Give us a second to get our coats and gloves on,”
Drew replies back, frustrated, I can tell, and rolls up his window.

“Wow, this is crazy,” I say, hoping to lighten his mood. I
pull on my coat and grab my purse. It’s time to brave the snow. “I’m ready to
go.”

“Why don’t you climb over the middle and exit out my side? I
want to help you in case you’re dizzy when you stand up. Remember, the bump on
your head?” I’m touched that he cares.

“Okay, let’s do this.” I watch as he opens the door.

Drew grabs my hand and helps me maneuver over to the
driver’s side. I dread facing the snow and wind. My body starts to brace for
the shock. Once I’m by the door, his hands take mine and help pull me out the door.

“Oh my God,” I yell, completely startled by the cold wind’s fierceness.
It whips through my wool coat and hits my legs. The black tights and red boots
I’m wearing might as well be made of thin gauze. Nothing will stop me from
freezing now.

“Come on, Kat.” I hear Drew somewhere in the whirlwind. My
eyes are watering as I try to open them. I’ve lived in Chicago all my life. The
lake-effect winds are nothing new to me, but this blizzard is beyond anything
I’ve ever experienced.

Drew pulls me tightly to his side. I cling to him as if he’s
my last breath. It feels like he’s dragging me. My feet are having trouble
moving in the deep snow. The next thing I know he’s picking me up and cradling
me in his arms. Like a small child, I curl into him and wrap my arms around his
neck. Holding on tight, my face burrows into his chest and I’m comforted by his
spicy cologne. He smells all man. Masculine and strong.

“We’re almost there,” he shouts. His body vibrates against
my cheek.

After a few more steps, Drew stops and lowers me. He places
a hand on my head and tucks me even further into him. The wind has stopped
beating against me and something meets my backside. I think it’s a seat.

Thank God, we’re in the rescue vehicle. I open my eyes and
scoot over on the bench seat so Drew can join me. A blast of warm air coming
from the heater’s vent draws me forward. I can’t get enough of its warmth as
even my covered fingers are tingling.

“We made it.” My words are slurring together due to my nearly
frostbitten lips.

Even before I’m finished speaking, he has me in his arms.
Again, I melt into him. He could be rather habit forming and I could get used
to being his addict. I giggle at my thoughts.

“What’s so funny?” he asks while looking down into my eyes.

“Oh, I think I’m becoming addicted to you.”

“What are you talking about, Kat?” There’s a look of
amusement on his face. He’s just so darn handsome.

“I have these crazy symptoms. Butterflies in my stomach,
heart beating a little too fast, and the worst one of all… I keep looking at
your lips.”

“Funny thing… I have the same symptoms too.” He gazes down
at my lips, and moves his mouth closer to mine. We touch. It’s a short, sweet
kiss as the officer who helped us is now trying to get our attention.

“Pardon me, lovebirds. But you all need to buckle up before
I take off,” he scolds us from the front seat.

I find myself smiling and feeling giddy. Drew likes me. I
can see it. Feel it.

“Officer, my name is Drew Michaels. My friend here is Kat
Williams.”

“Your friend, you say?” the officer questions.

“Well, we weren’t together before the storm,” I state and
glance over at Drew.

“Actually, she was driving the car in front of me. She hit
the bus and I had her join me in my car.” He’s staring back at me now. It’s
really unbelievable, this pull I think we’re both feeling for each other.

“My car’s a little banged up,” I explain.

“Don’t forget that bump on your head.” Drew’s face turns
toward the officer. “I think she should have a doctor look at it.”

“Great.” I laugh. “We just met and he’s already telling me I
need to have my head examined.”

“You kids,” the officer shakes his head and mutters. “As a
precaution, I’m taking you to the hospital, Miss.”

I sit back in my seat, dejected. Off to the hospital we go.
Not a very fun way to spend a New Year’s Eve. Maybe Drew will ask for my phone
number when we get to the emergency room. If he doesn’t, I’ll ask for his because
there’s no way I’m not letting this one get away. This chance meeting needs to
be explored, along with other things…

My purse lays across my legs and I feel some vibrations on
my knee. It dawns on me that it’s my phone. It’s still by the time I dig it of
my purse’s side pocket. I don’t really even need to view the screen to know who
was just calling me. After a quick glance, my screen shows over ten missed
calls. Pretty sure I’m in deep trouble with my mother. Better give her a quick
call.

“My mother.” I hold up my phone and show Drew the list of
calls and texts labeled “Mama Bear.” I cringe at her nickname, hoping he won’t
ask for details.

“That’s a lot of missed calls. Maybe Mama Bear thinks you’re
heading out to a party in the snow.”

Oh no! I have to confess what my true plans were for the
night. New Year’s Eve with my parents. I should lie, make up some story, but I
can’t. Instead, I decide to tell him the truth then watch whatever cool factor
I might’ve possessed disappear.

“Actually, I was heading up to their house on the North
Shore for the evening.” I prepare for the pitiful look and distance he’ll want
to put between us now.

“No kidding?” he asks.

“Yes, me, my parents and Times Square on the television. All
kinds of excitement.” I just can’t bear looking up into his eyes. Instead, I
scan the scene out the vehicle’s window, hoping we’re getting close to the
hospital.

“We’re quite the pair.” His fingers gently touch the side of
my cheek. With a little pressure he turns my head toward him. “I was going to
do the same thing tonight. Though there were about forty other people joining my
parents and me.”