Hungry Nomore

February chill—a pristine blanket,dusted maple branches.Icicles hang from shutters.I wait, coffee in hand.Eloise hadn’t turned up.

Headlights swept the drive,tires crunching snow—my heart jumps.

A candle flickered.The TV was on,but the sound was off.Soft pop played.Fireplace crackled.

She entered,removed her boots—eggs in hand.

“Always leave your door unlocked?”She smiled.“Could be dangerous.”

“Or lucky,” I said.“A gorgeous woman could arrive.”

She plopped onto the couch,tucked her bangs.“Aww shucks,you’re gonna make a girl blush.”

I pour more coffee.Her voice trailed from the living room—I wanted to hear it forever.I turned,eyes wide, tongue tied.

“Never seen a naked gal?”Fists on hips, a sultry glance.

I swallow.“Are we talking real life, or…”

“Seven years,” she whispered.“Let’s cross the finish line.”

“Thought you wanted to wait?”I arched a brow.“Until marriage. Right?”

“Listen,” she said,grabbing my hands.“I don’t even eat eggs.”

“No dairy?”My voice suspicious.

“More of an almond milk gal.”

“I have milk for you,” I said.

She blushed,biting her lip.

“Okay, that sounded bad.”I waved, cheeks warmed.“I drink almond milk, too.I ordered extra. I wouldn’t want it to spoil.”

“Where are we going?”A seductive gleam floweredin her gaze. “Don’t spoil us.”

“Forever?” I said,voice certain.“Start there?”

She fought back tears.“Been waiting seven years for this.”She hugged my neck.“I’m hungry.”

“You’re appetizing.”I said, winking.

“Let’s go eat.”She grabbed my hand,pulling me into my bedroom.

Even then,we walked away starving.

Tangled in sheets,eggs a memory,coffee cold.Temptation crumbled,starved onlyfor each other.