Quench Me
      Chapter 5
 

It's almost 5:00 p.m., Friday afternoon, when my classes finish and I start down the two flights of stairs to the lobby of the building. The normal Friday rush is on, and hundreds of medical students are rushing to get of here and begin enjoying their weekend. My thoughts return to where I was this time yesterday. I was in Danny's office, waffling back and forth between hating him and liking him. A smile tugs at the corners of my mouth as I remember how he went from being boyish one minute to razor sharp the next. As I reach the lobby, I immediately notice a slight commotion in a small group of female students standing at the bottom of the steps. Recognizing one of them from the class I just left, I decide to find out what all the fuss is about.

"Marti," I say, as I walk toward them, "What's going on?"

"Michelle, Hi!" she says. "We were just wondering who that guy at the front door is. Whoever he is, I'd sure like to get to know him."

I turn my head toward the front of the lobby, and there, standing next to the front door, is Danny. He's wearing black slacks, a gray button-up shirt. No jacket, and no tie, and yet he still looks incredible, and he's looking straight at me, with those eyes and that stare that make the rest of the world go away.

"Danny," I say to myself, completely astounded that he's here.

"You know him?" Marti asks.

Startled back to my present circumstances, I turn to her and say, "Well, um… yeah, sort of."

"Well then for crying out loud, Michelle, go over there and talk to him. He's obviously here to see you. Just look at the look on his face."

I don't tell her that I've already seen that look, several times before, and it makes me weak every time. Without even saying goodbye, I start walking toward him. What is actually only stroll across the lobby seems like a mile, as I make my way to where he is. He watches me, never taking his eyes off me, and I'm certain that my knees will give out before I get there. His mouth isn't smiling, but his eyes are, and his expression is one of anticipation, and - dare I even think it? - desire.

"Danny," I say as I finally reach the front door. "What are you doing here?"

"You're not upset, are you?" he quickly asks.

"No, just surprised," I answer.

"Well, I was trying to surprise you," he says. "You've been to my office twice, so I thought I should come down here and see you in your element."

"I'll take that as a compliment," I say slyly.

"I meant it as one," he replies.

As we walk out of the building and start down the sidewalk toward where my car is parked, I ask, "Where are you parked?"

"My car's still at Spaulding," he replies. "I took a cab."

"Why'd you do that?" I inquire.

"Because I thought if my car wasn't here, that maybe you'd offer me a ride."

I attempt to ignore the double meaning of that statement, but it's no use. I crack up laughing, and I have to stop walking to catch my breath.

"Sorry," he says through his own laughter. "I didn't mean that the way it sounded."

"I know, Danny," I say, finally regaining my composure. "So, where do you want to go?"

"Well, there's this nice, quaint little restaurant, about ten miles out of town. It's never very crowded, but the food is great." he says.

"What?" I question, not sure of his intention.

"Go to dinner with me, Michelle," he says with a pleading tone.

"And we're taking my car?" I ask with a smirk.

"Yeah," he answers, as he puts his hand gently on my neck, sending waves of electricity throughout my body. "Take me for a spin in that 'big Mitsubishi' of yours," he says. "And there was no pun intended in that statement either."

I can't help but smile at him, and how playful he's being. Seeing him in his office, I would've never imagined this side of him. "I'll do you one better," I answer.

"Really?" he questions, with a raised eyebrow.

Laughing at his boyishness, I say, "I'll let you drive. No pun intended."

As I dig my keys out of my book bag and toss them to him, it occurs to me that I'm grossly underdressed for a dinner date. "Do we have time for me to go home and change my clothes?" I ask.

He stops walking and turns to look at me. He starts at my feet, noticing the Adidas tennis shoes I'm wearing. His eyes move up my legs, and I wonder if he likes these jeans as well as he did the ones I had on yesterday. When he reaches my waist, he stops for a moment and takes a deep breath. His eyes move up my torso, not necessarily lingering, but not in a hurry either. My chest is on fire underneath my blue scoop-neck tee shirt, and I feel the red heat creeping up my neck as he lifts his face to mine.

"You look great, Michelle," he says, in a voice that breathes sex to me.

Struggling to find my voice after his visual assault of my body, I manage to say, "I've been here all day, Danny. I feel kind of yucky." What a stupid think to say. Yucky. What a juvenile word to use with someone who is quite obviously a man.

He simply smiles and says, "O.K." as he opens the passenger side door of my car, and watches me climb in.

"So, where is home?" he asks as he starts the car.

"Well, you may not believe this, but I still live at home," I answer.

"In the house where you grew up?" he asks.

"Yeah. I actually had my own apartment, but I moved back home several months ago," I say, as I give him directions to my house.

"You live with your parents?" he asks, somewhat sheepishly.

"No," I say, knowing he's relieved that he won't be meeting my parents tonight. "My Mom's dead, and my dad - he's a doctor - is in Africa working with the group 'Doctors Without Borders'. I live at home with my brother, Rick. He just got divorced and I know he's pretty lonely. I hated to think of him living in the house all by himself, so I moved back home."

"That was really sweet of you," he says, has he pats my knee. I'll die if he touches me one more time. I know I will.

"Rick's a doctor, too, so with his schedule at the hospital, and my class schedule, we don't see each other that often. We really just run into one another as we're coming and going, but I think even that is a comfort to him."

"How long has your mom been gone?" he questions with genuine concern.

As I'm preparing to answer, I realize that this is probably the longest conversation that I've had with Danny that didn't involve crass remarks and apologies.

"Since I was a little girl," I answer.

"I lost my dad when I was very young," he says, staring out the windshield.

I can think of no response, as it dawns on me that we have this horrible tragedy in common. As odd as it may sound, I'm glad in a way, because Danny shared something personal with me, and that's the first time he's done that.

We pull into my driveway, and Danny puts the car in park. "Is your brother here?"

"No, he's working," I answer. "He works himself too hard these days. He's covering for another doctor, and then he has his own shift. He won't be home until morning. So, don't worry. You can come in."

Danny is standing beside the kitchen counter as I leap up the stairs to my bedroom. I'm glad to be away from him for a moment, to regroup after feeling his hand touch my neck, his eyes scanning my body, and his hand on my knee. But, at the same time, I cannot wait to get my clothes changed and get back downstairs.

I quickly rummage through my closet, and find a yellow tank dress with a matching short-sleeve cardigan. I quickly remove my jeans and tee shirt and slip the dress on my body, immediately glad that I took the time to shave my legs this morning. I pull out my make up drawer, and quickly touch up my blush and dust my face with shimmery powder. I grab a pair of white sandals from the closet floor and swiftly strap them on my feet. I pick up the cardigan from my bed and put it on. I twist my pony tail into a bun and pull out a few whispy strands of hair so that they fall around my face. A touch of light peach lipstick and I'm ready to go. All that in less than ten minutes.

Danny is waiting for me when I reach the bottom of the steps. It's been only moments since I last saw him, but my heart flutters anyway when I see his face.

"Damn, Michelle, you are a vision," he says, and I almost faint.

I consider throwing a funny remark back at him, such as "a vision of what?", but decide against it. He's more real to me right now than he's ever been, and I don't want to blow it. I just smile and say "thank you", as I grab my purse from the kitchen table. His hand is on the small of my back as we lock the door behind us and walk to my car.