Quench Me
      Chapter 10
 

It's Wednesday now, and I haven't seen or heard from Danny since our encounter in his office on Saturday.

I can still hear him calling out to me as I left his office. "Michelle, stop! DON'T GO! Please don't leave things like this!" But I didn't stop, as much as I wanted to. I just couldn't. I heard his footsteps coming after me down the hallway, but I reached the elevator before him, and the doors closed just before he got there. I sprinted through the parking lot to my car, knowing that he'd taken the stairs to try and catch me. As I smashed the gas and pulled out onto the street, I saw him running out of the building, shirt still completely open. When he realized that he wasn't going to catch me, he stopped, dead in his tracks, and let his upper body collapse, steadying himself by placing his hands on his knees. I saw all this happening, and still I didn't go back, even though my heart was breaking. I had to leave him there feeling the same dumbfounded shock that he'd bestowed upon me. I wanted him to understand what it felt like to have the proverbial carrot dangled in front of his face, only to have it snatched away when he reached for it.

The memory of it all still sends chills down my spine, and I find myself replaying the entire scene in my head at least a hundred times a day. The feel of his tongue in my mouth, warm and desperate, was more amazing than I'd ever imagined, and the feel of his hands on my body made me feel more alive than I've ever felt in my life. But, as fabulous as it felt, I want more. I deserve more. I finally admit it to myself. I want his heart.

The more I remember it, the more I second guess myself. Did I do the right thing? Have I alienated him from me forever? Should I call him? Go see him? No, I tell myself. The next move is his to make, if he wants to make it. Yet, the longer I go without seeing his face, the more afraid I am that he'll never make it. I'm drowning inside myself, not wanting to compromise my dreams of love and an honest relationship, yet not wanting to be without him, not wanting to live without his touch. At times, I think I can live with whatever he gives me, as long as I can be near him, but in my heart, I know that's not true. I want all of him, every molecule of him. If I can't have that, I can't have any of him. It has to be that way. It just has to.

Rick and I come and go like usual, barely even running into each other in our rush. Finals are in less than two weeks, and Pharmacology is driving me nuts. So much memorization, and it seems that these days my mind is filled to the brim with images of Danny. I've gone to the gym every day this week, and fueled my energy with kick-boxing. Tanner asked me out again, and this time I flat told him there was someone else. I can't decide if that was a lie or an exaggeration, but at least it got him off my back. At home, I spend my time studying, pouring over my books and my notes, trying in vain to rid my mind of his face.

Rick is working all night again, and I miss his company more than I ever have in my life. The house is empty and quiet, which is a breeding ground for my self-pity. At midnight, I finally give up on studying, and go to the kitchen to get a drink of water before turning in for the night. I'm standing at the kitchen counter when the phone rings.

"Hello," I answer.

"Michelle."

It's him. My heart nearly leaps out of my chest at the sound of his voice.

"Danny," I say.

"I'm sorry I haven't called you before now," he says. His voice is quiet and tentative, almost repentant.

"I didn't know whether to expect a call from you or not," I say. "After the way I left Saturday."

"Well, I was stunned, to say the least," he replies.

"I guess I should apologize," I say.

"No," he says quickly. "I've been thinking about what you said, and you're right."

"Right about what?" I question.

"I have been sending you mixed signals," he admits. "I'd like to make that up to you."

"How?"

"I want to do something to give you a clear signal," he answers. "Come to my house Friday night for dinner. Please."

"I don't know if that' such a good idea," I say.

"Michelle, please," he pleads. "Let me do this."

"What time?"

"I'll pick you up at seven o'clock," he says.

"That's all right, Danny. I'll just drive myself."

He sighs into the phone, and I can tell he's disappointed, but I don't really want to get myself trapped at his house without means to get myself out of there if necessary.

"O.K., Michelle," he relents. "Do you remember how to get here?"

"Yes."

"Good. I'm looking forward to it."

"See you then, Danny."

I hang up first, again ensuring that I get the last word.

Whatever he has planned, I'll be on my guard. I'm not going to get caught up in his little semantics game again. He started this game, but I promise myself that I will