Then

Being antisocial is exhausting. I mean do you know how much work I put into not interacting with anyone? Not that anyone particularly wants to interact with me in the first place but it is the principal of the matter.

Stretching out my legs I lean back until my spine rests on the worn wood of the shelf behind me. The reference section is like a dark safe haven in the back of the school library. It has become my canopied oasis these past six months since we moved to this tiny town.

It is also where I hide away and eat lunch without having to endure the fake smiles or general disdain of my peers.

I dig my latest trash romance novel from the depths of my backpack and prop my turkey on wheat on my knees and prepare to disappear for the next forty minutes with a ravishing misunderstood duke and his chambermaid.

Five minutes later crumbs stick to my lips and the legs of my pants but I don't notice because this whole duke and his maid thing is getting good. Just give in woman! You know you want to do him. He's dark and handsome and has blue eyes. Not to mention the whole heart of gold despite his upbringing thing he's got going. Which he of course hides beneath a shut off exterior and side of asshole attitude. The nubile innocent chamber maid doesn't stand a chance.

I am totally submerged and my sandwich has fallen to the floor by the time it really starts to heat up.

The duke has cornered the maid in the library and oh he's angry. Like the sexy kind of angry where he's furious to develop human emotions. She's actually swooning. What are the symptoms of an actual swoon I wonder? Oh! The chaise huh? When did pantelets become just panties? God the sad affair that has become the English language pains me.

A deep burning blush begins on my neck only to climb to my face when I read that he is on his knees with his head underneath her dress and…

"Hey Katniss."

"Oh my fucks!" I jump so hard my book hits the ground and my head hits the shelf above me. This brings down a small avalanche of source material that knocks into my shoulders, stomach, and forehead.

I have been buried alive and literally assaulted by knowledge.

"Shit I'm sorry. Are you okay?"

Hands with thick knuckles and trim nails start pulling books off of me and shoving them to the side and then blue eyes come into focus. They are wide and concerned as he crouches next to me.

"I'm fine Peeta."

"Jesus. Didn't meant to scare you."

"What about the attempted murder?" I smirk up at him.

Other than a few bruises I really am fine but the look on his face is pretty priceless.

"Very funny. You jumped a damn mile. You know you are the one who told me I walk too loud to ever sneak up on anyone."

With a huff he lets his orange bag hit the ground and slides down to sit on the floor across from me.

His black converse are double knotted and it makes me smile.

He has a hole in the knee of his jeans. They probably belonged to one of his older brothers because they are way too long and he has a habit of tripping on the hem of them almost daily. The t-shirt is all him with some slogan to some science fiction graphic novel that I've never heard of plastered across it. He tugs on the length because he is forever self-conscious of the soft swell of stomach that protrudes over his pants when he sits down.

Peeta Mellark is my one and only friend at District High. We are both fourteen year old loners brought together over a comical territory dispute involving this very section of library. Seems he couldn't stomach both lunch and our fellow student body any more than I could.

He's short for our grade but who am I to talk? I am all of five feet nothing. Only my scowl and virtual distrust of most living breathing things make up my threatening attributes.

He has a head full of rioting blonde curls and waves which I promise you have never seen a brush. He runs his fingers through them constantly and the way he tugs when he gets really intense about something is actually pretty adorable.

He's a little on the chubby end of the spectrum and has a mouthful of braces. Peeta says he has never harbored any fantasies that high school was going to be his time to shine.

It's a shame really. I have never met a more compassionate or warm human being.

Being the army brat that I am I have a pretty good handle on knowing who people really are and knowing it fast.

Peeta makes me laugh until my stomach aches. He's sarcastic and ridiculously smart and has the prettiest blue eyes I have ever seen. I like the way they crinkle when he catches me off guard and how his eyelashes look tangled and almost white against his cheeks that are perpetually pink.

Pulling a white paper sack from his messenger bag he smirks when my eyes follow it. Dramatically he pulls a buttery flakey cheese bun out and without breaking eye contact he takes a big bite moaning as the melted cheese meets his tongue.

Saliva fills my mouth and my lips part and it makes him laugh out loud because I look pitiful watching him eat what I have come to find is my favorite food in the entire world.

But there is something else besides jealous hunger that heats my belly. Something that reacted to the noise that rumbled from his throat and the way grease shines on his fingers and lips.

Something that feels like an entirely different kind of hunger and has no business existing between me and the only friend I have.

With a nod of his head he gestures to the bag and taps my foot with his. "Go on. Do you think I packed a half dozen just for myself? I mean I know it looks like I eat…"

I smack my hand over his mouth before he can insult himself and reach my other hand into the bag. God they are still warm. As I take an enormous unladylike bite I feel Peeta grin wide beneath my palm and his eyes actually twinkle.

That heat is back again and this time it climbs my neck as I move my hand from his wet lips. His jaw rolls and clenches as he chews and when I make a big moaning deal about the cheese bun myself a blush graces his round cheeks.

He whispers softly. "That good huh?"

I roll my eyes. "They are the fucking best. YOU. Are the fucking best."

The rush of blood beneath his skin reaches his ears and nervously he scratches behind his neck. "Whatever. I did make these though."

My head pops up. "For me?"

Laughing his nose wrinkles. "Your turkey sandwiches are the saddest things I have ever seen."

I swallow the salty yeasty bite and for a second the soft rumble of his voice and the way his freckles disappear mesmerize me.

Looking away I lean forward and kick him softly in the stomach.

His mouth falls open and it is all white teeth and silver metal and his laughter snorts from his nose as he tries to catch my foot. In the end I end up sprawled on my back and he has my ankle in his lap and my shoe off and I am shrieking for him to please not tickle me. This earns a stern visit from the only adult brave enough to exist in our oasis and we both lean back against the shelves panting and calling truce because otherwise we will be booted out amongst the social and there is no worse horror.

Packing up our trash he nods at my lap. "What porn were you reading when I got here?"

I turn crimson and sputter which just makes him laugh silently. "Katniss you have terrible porn in public face. Plus that chick's boobs are practically falling off the cover. Maybe I could borrow it."

Hiding my face I peek between my fingers. "Oh for fucks sake please stop. It's not porn."

He just raises an eyebrow at me. "Katniss you are a terrible liar."

"Well it has some porn but there is a story I swear!"

"What were they doing when I showed up?"

My stomach hurts and I can never look from behind my hands as I drop my head into my lap. "Oh my god Peeta! Nothing!"

When I peek he is grinning and goodness I love his smile. I know it is going to be beautiful when all the metal comes off but I am secretly so damn charmed by the flash of his braces.

"You have got to stop."

With a final eye roll and snap of the closure of his bag he shakes his head. "Fine! Ya know…you are my very favorite sarcastic human being. Sometimes I forget you are pure as snow."

My mouth falls open. "I am not!"

He snorts. "Katniss you are a snowflake."

"Take that back!"

He grins. "Nope. I love it."

My smile falters slightly. "You love it?"

He nods and the pink flush rushes into his cheeks. "You're you."

He shrugs, "You're smart as hell and don't really care about what people think but you care about how they feel but you're pure. Not in an obnoxious way where you look at people and see what they have done. You just have such an intense focus on what is important to you...that some of the other dumb teenage shit doesn't register with you. I like it."

He licks his lips and a small smile graces mine but I can't quite meet his eyes so I just kick his ankle.

Smirking and running his tongue over his teeth he kicks me back.

His whisper is low and little rough when he says. "You should know…to me I mean…you're perfect."

I don't know what it is about his last words. Why they feel heavier than any he has ever said but they settle in my stomach and feel hot beneath my ribs and they make me feel like I can't breathe in the most wonderful way.

Shrugging into my backpack the warning bell rings and we both stand.

He runs his hands through his curls again and does that thing with his tongue over his teeth that means he's checking for food. I just grin and shove my romance novel into my bag. I think home might be a safer place to catch up with the duke and his maid.

Shifting on his feet Peeta blinks at me. How are his eyes so blue?

"I know we hate people. But have you thought about the dance this weekend?"

Why do I feel like someone set fire to my chest? What even is this? I push my hair behind my ears. "I've never really had a reason to go."

He looks over my shoulder and tugs again at the shirt that clings to his belly. I bet he would feel so soft if he hugged me.

"What if we braved it together? I mean we can drink punch and make fun of the football players with no rhythm…could be awesome?"

I find myself nodding because really I just want to spend three hours straight across from his face. "Okay. Yeah."

"Yeah?" He swallows thickly but his smile is like looking at a damn sunrise and I can't help but return it."

"Yeah. Sure."

We part grinning and a little awkward and when I go home I fall back onto my bed breathless and having totally forgotten the book in my bag in favor of a precious boy with braces.

I've always been kind of a professional when it comes to life changes and how they can happen at the drop of a hat.

But this time is different and the odds are definitely not in my favor. Two and a half days are left to pretend and play that my life is normal. That my father didn't call me into the kitchen to tell me that we are moving…again. That this will be my last weekend in District Twelve.

I am used to it. I have always prepared myself as it has happened every year of my life as long as I can remember. Usually the late announcement is sufficient.

For the first time in my short fourteen years this is not the case because I have something I want and someone who is expecting me.

I can't bring myself to tell Peeta. He deserves to know and is the only person here who will even care but for some reason I find myself unable to think of a way to say something. I've never been any good at it.

To be honest there is also this part of me that wants this night to be perfect because I feel like I am going to want hang onto it somehow. It might be selfish but I want something that is just mine for once.

I get ready and look at myself in the mirror. Will he be able to see that this last night is really me saying goodbye? I should probably think of some way to do it. Should take a minute to plan some big gesture the way I planned my elaborate hairstyle of the smoke that covers my eyelids. But in my head all I can think is what if this is bigger for me than it is for him?

Tonight will just have to be enough.

Peeta has on blue. The button up is ironed and tucked into his jeans and I smile when I see the scuffed edges of his converse peeking out from their hem. His eyes which look ten shades deeper somehow in the moonlight widen when he sees I'm wearing a dress. His lips lift into a grin so wide that dimple I rarely get to see winks in his round flushed cheeks. His braces sparkle from the porch light and my stomach starts to actually hurt because I realize how much I am going to miss him.

We cut through the park and walk the three blocks to the school. We laugh and we talk and I let the sound of his voice seep into my bones.

Music pumps from the gymnasium doors. The floor is slick and balloons spill across it and are tied in bunches to every available surface and the classmates we cannot stand move in mass at the center of all of it.

Peeta grins at me and holds out his hand. It is warm and calloused and I like how it feels around my fingers and how he has to lean in close to my ear to talk over the music.

Neither of us seem to have any sense of rhythm but we jump and sing along to eighties pop hits and I love the way Peeta's hair falls into his eyes when he starts to sweat. I love that sometimes he snap his fingers like I'm sure our father's would to the beat, and I love that he's not trying to smooth his clothes over his stomach or hanging his head to not be noticed.

My stomach aches from laughing so much and my heart pounds every time his hand brushes my hips or the small of my back. Every slow song we have grabbed a drink or he's twirled me dramatically over and over until I can't breathe and I'm dizzy.

But like the plot of some contrived teen movie the night is swiftly coming to an end and as if by silent agreement our bodies come closer as the music slows down.

His shoulders are sturdy beneath my sweating palms and his hands are warm through my dress at my waist. He smells like spiced breads and fabric softener and his breath like fruit punch as it brushes my neck.

We don't move much, just a gentle sway side to side that makes Peeta's fingers dig into my skin in a way that gives me goosebumps. Our laughter and our words have just kind of fallen away into something softer that follows the volume of music.

When I let my eyes lift Peeta is looking at me and as I catch his stare his eyes flit down and a blush grows with his shy smile.

If I was brave I would lift up onto my toes and kiss it right off his mouth. But I don't. I just watch his throat bob as he swallows and his pink tongue wet his lips and when the song ends it is time to go.

Not ready to let this night end I hold his hand as we leave. He doesn't say anything but looks pretty pleased every time he looks down at our fingers twisted together.

I stop when we get to the park and Peeta pulls me to the swings. We push off the ground and race to see who can go highest. It feels like flying and soon our breathless laughter is all that fills the night the way the stars fill the sky.

I don't know who stops swinging first, or who stops laughing. But soon Peeta is looking at me and I am turned towards him. I look at his blue eyes and his unruly hair that the wind has made even messier. Dust clings to the toes of his shoes and his laces are knotted and I don't know why that makes me want to cry.

I think of the afternoons we spent in the library and everything I will miss. When we would share earphones and he would sketch the most beautiful things in an ancient notebook… and how instead of doing geometry I would watch his hands.

I'll miss the sound of his laugh and the gentle way he smiles and always says the right thing. I think about how my heart started to race these last few months at just the prospect of seeing him and how now it feels like it is breaking because I probably never will again.

Pushing off the ground he comes closer to me. Our hands hold the chains at our sides and soon our knees are brushing. Peeta searches my eyes and his fall to my lips.

With a surge of confidence he moves forward and I can taste his breath in my mouth. It is wet and warm and so are his lips when they finally press to mine. His exhale leaves his nose onto my cheek and makes his chest tremble. I finally close my eyes wanting to remember every freckle that is sprinkled over his cheeks and the way I can feel the heat leave his body in the evening air.

He kisses me once, then again, and on the third pass my mouth opens a little letting my tongue brush his lips. He groans softly and it makes me smile but soon I feel his tongue touch mine and he's tasting the inside of my mouth. He tastes sweet and neither of us are very good at this but I love the wet warmth when we move and that inside his cheeks are soft and his braces are slick. I love the small sounds that leave his throat as he lets go of the swing and buries his fingers into my hair.

When I feel like I am running out of air I pull away.

His lips are wet and pink and his eyes are a little dazed but he immediately smiles at me in a way that makes me ache.

"Wow."

My grin grows to match his. "I'll take wow."

Licking his lips a little he shakes his head but can't seem to help himself as he presses another kiss to my cheek.

With a lift of his eyebrow he says, "I guess all that porn really does come in handy."

My mouth falls open and I push off the ground to knock into him. "Oh my god don't ruin it."

"Yeah nothing could ruin this for me."

The smile on my face falters slightly because he doesn't realize how wrong he is.

I let my head fall back and I can feel him looking at me.

"You know what I wish?"

My eyes meet his. "What?"

"I wish we could stay here. That you…this night…this moment… I wish I could live in it forever." Laughing softly he asks, "Is that creepy?"

Looking down I shake my head because no it is anything but creepy. Right now if I could wish on every star that falls from the sky I would. And I would wish for the same thing.

This moment. This night. Is all we will ever get. He doesn't know this but in some sick twisted way he will get his wish.

Anytime he thinks of me the memory of tonight will be all that's left. He'll live it again and again.

So that is why I reach over and take his hand and looking up at the stars I whisper, "I'll allow it."

Now

I'm late for my train.

The universe has decided it is against me today.

My alarm clock died in the night. It's the same I have had since college and sadly waking up thirty minutes late has given me no time to mourn its passing.

I lost hot water halfway through my shower and shaved off a layer of goosebumps as I shivered and cursed with what I must admit was some rousing creativity. Then I didn't realize the proposal I have been working on all month was still on my kitchen table until I was half a block away.

I suppose the fact that I am only half an hour late is actually pretty impressive and the amount of sprinting that just happened could also count as cardio. So on the bright side I can say my morning has been full of multitasking productivity.

I am not a brightside type of girl. Which is why I am cursing life and scowling at everyone I pass like they might become my next victim as I finally shoulder my way onto the subway.

It's more crowded than my usual train but I do manage to get a seat in the back corner.

People aren't exactly my favorite.

This is why I ask myself almost daily what the hell I was thinking moving into the city.

With my breathing finally under control I look at my schedule on my phone. With a relieved exhale I realize I will get to work sparing plenty of time to prep for my presentation.

With my head laid back against the glass I see him.

He rushes in just as the doors are about to close and grabs onto a handle as the train pulls away.

If this were a movie or the plot of some of my favorite young adult trash novels I would do something like spill coffee in my lap or choke on my gum. But if that were the case we would also have some top forties soundtrack capitalizing on our life changing meaningful eye contact and instant connection.

But this is my shitty real life and on a day that there is no way fate feels like giving me anything for free he doesn't notice me staring at him with my mouth open.

Okay you really can drool over someone's looks.

He isn't especially tall.

He's probably a half foot taller than me. But his presence is just…commanding or something. Okay maybe it those shoulders that are commanding because Jesus Christ.

He has on dark jeans and his ass is something to be appreciated. I mean really appreciated and the denim does its job beautifully. Those shoulders lead to a broad chest beneath a slate gray henley. His hair is dark blonde and tousled from the wind. I can tell that there would be some curl to it if he wore it longer. His profile is gorgeous with a sloped nose and a strong jaw that rolls as he looks down at his boots.

Hot henley guy is really making my morning so much better.

He never notices me when we get to what I guess is his stop. But I see him help an older woman onto the walk and when she thanks him he smiles down at her.

That smile is like taking a fist to the stomach. It nearly makes my knees week and my face flush.

It makes me remember when another smile ten years ago could do the same thing.

By noon I am surly as fuck. Probably because I am starving and the coffee I have been subsisting off of since I got to the office is just not cutting it.

I drag my laptop to the conference room where I intend to eat lunch while reading smutty fanfiction under the pretense of looking work busy. My reading porn face has gotten so much better.

I'll be for the most part blissfully alone aside from Madge who every day takes the opposite end of the table to eat and listen to music. It's our routine and she gets that small talk isn't exactly my thing so this works for us.

I am just turning to head to the kitchen to grab my lunch when I see him through the glass.

"Holy shit."

It's hot henley guy.

He's smiling that smile again and keeps running his hands through his hair as he stands talking to the receptionist. She is literally panting or it looks like it from here and she keeps touching his forearms.

Do men even realize how hot the pushed up sleeves thing is? They must. There is some class with tips for ridiculously hot habits and what they will do to the men and women who find you attractive.

He should probably teach that class.

He gives Delly a small wave and with another flash of those white teeth I see him head to the elevators to leave.

Without wasting a second I dart out to the front.

"Who was that?"

Delly still looks high. I can't really blame her. That ass she just watched walk away is the same one I ogled for twenty minutes just this morning.

"Oh. Um. He was just delivering lunch. That Trinkett woman sent lunch again trying to kiss ass and get a meeting."

Huh. So hot henley guy works in the food industry. I like food. Just the kind of coincidence that improves my mood.

From the box in the kitchen I grab what looks like the best turkey sandwich to ever exist and as I eat it and read my new favorite age gap fic I moan because it tastes even better.

Someone once told me my turkey sandwiches were sad. What would he say if he saw this one?

The thought makes me smile.

He lives in my building. He fucking lives in my building.

I like to run at the park on my weekends. I miss the trees.

On the way back another runner is jogging in front of me and not one to miss an opportunity to enjoy an athletic ass and legs I let the view inspire me to add another mile to my run.

He veers off before I am done and I like how the sweat darkens the back of his hair and how his shirt clings to his sweaty back. As I watch him leave the park for the street I look straight ahead and give him a silent thank you. Because now I can eat twice as much ice cream for dinner.

I don't expect to see him again.

I do not expect for him to be hot henley guy from earlier in the week. And I sure as shit do not expect for him to be in the lobby of my building when I round the corner.

Yet there he is. Still sweaty and gloriously attractive and waiting for an elevator while twirling his keys.

He nods at a couple and holds the elevator for them. He has a dimple that I didn't notice before and I can tell his eyes are insanely blue even from outside. His head turns towards me and I turn my back with my heart racing.

I have no idea why.

He doesn't know I have been accidentally stalking him and undressing him in equal measure but still.

As calmly as possible and not at all creepy I run into the building once the elevator closes and watch the numbers flash. I mean we are pretty much neighbors I'm just curious as to what floor he's on.

I hold my breath as he passes floor five because there is only one more to go and that is where it stops.

He doesn't just live in my building. He lives on my floor.

I can't sleep. For some reason when I do all I see are blue eyes and blonde waves and I can't help thinking that we could very well be sharing a wall.

Yes I am that horrible person who avoids eye contact with her neighbors and gets by with terse nods and as little conversation as possible. I have no idea who lives next to me these days.

I watch shadows and cuss counting sheep and no such luck. So instead my mind drifts back to another night and another set of blue eyes that kept me awake. I never thought I could still miss him after ten years.

By morning I am haggard and sluggish and decide that I am going to go out for coffee. I'm thinking also a doughnut or something fatty and covered in sugar. Then I am going to come home and get back into bed and watch Netflix until I have to eat again.

Throwing a hoodie on over the same yoga pants I slept in I knot my hair on top of my head and slip my feet into my shoes.

I lock my door and head down the hall and around the corner figuring I'll take the stairs and maybe it will wake me up. Just as I am about to pull the door handle it swings open and knocks me on my ass.

"Oh my god! Fuck. I mean shit. I mean sorry. God I am so sorry here."

The voice comes from behind a stack of white bakery boxes and a large hand reaches down to clasp mine and hauls me to my feet.

He adjusts the boxes and I look up into blinking blue eyes and oh my god…

"It's you!"

Those blue eyes widen and his mouth drops. He looks shocked. Well of course he does I just yelled at him and it makes absolutely no sense whatsoever.

He can't seem to find words to respond so I shake my head.

"I mean. Sorry it's just since last week I've been seeing you everywhere…the train, and work, running at the park…"

He starts to speak but by now I am flustered and every moment of this reminds me why I do not interact with other human beings unless forced.

"God I sound like some kind of stalker. I swear that's not the case I just recognized your face and I've seen you enough that I don't know it's not like I know you because I don't obviously but…"

"It's okay Katniss."

I stop talking to look at him.

"It is?"

He smiles at me and for a second I feel like I need to hold onto something. It is so much better close up.

Wait.

"How do you know my name is Katniss?"

Something crosses his face. I can't make out what it might mean. Or maybe I am just finding myself distracted by his bone structure. I haven't even had coffee yet and seriously he is the most attractive man I have ever seen.

Clearing his throat he just shrugs. "We're neighbors right? I think I must have seen you around and I think I've gotten your mail before."

I would probably agree with whatever he said but that actually does make sense.

"Oh. Okay well it was nice to meet you…?"

His eyes do that crinkle thing in the corners when he smiles. I love that.

"My friends call me Pete. I'd offer a hand but they are full obviously."

"Pete. Yeah. No it's fine I have to go anyway. My body needs about a gallon of caffeine. It was nice to meet you and put a face to a name, I mean a name to a face and everything."

I actually cringe as I turn back around. Fuck the stairs I will be lazy in my mortification.

"Katniss wait!"

He sets the boxes on the ground in front of the door two apartments over.

So we don't share a wall.

Pushing the sleeves of his blue sweater up his arms he jogs back towards me. He cannot be real.

With a smile that lifts a little more on one side and is sweetly shy he shoves his hands into his pockets. "Is there any way I can get your number?"

I literally just stare at him like he's spoken a language I don't understand.

Rocking back on his heels he blushes a little. "I mean for neighbor reasons and everything. Cups of sugar and all that. Maybe even one day a cup of coffee?"

I am not sure if my mouth can form actual words at this point. "You want to have coffee with me?"

Nodding he looks down at his feet. "Yeah that was my attempt at asking you out for coffee."

"Why?"

His brow furrows but I can't seem to shut up. "Why do you want to have coffee with me?"

Oh my god what the hell is wrong with me? I am going to die alone.

For some reason this just makes him laugh. "Maybe I like pretty stalkers."

I narrow my eyes at him but he just smiles at me. "I'm new to the area and making a friend can't hurt right?"

Something tells me this guy would have no trouble finding any friends he wants. But still I nod and take his phone and put in my number.

"All right. I'll text you sometime okay?"

I let out the breath I was holding and just dumbly nod again.

Still smiling in that way that should be illegal he backs away from me putting his phone in his pocket.

"Sorry again about earlier! You know the door! Your ass!"

I can't help but laugh. God he's charming too. "You mean the attempted murder?"

"Funny! I've been told I walk pretty loud. Maybe you'll hear me coming next time."

The elevator doors are already closing but I smile to myself and say, "Maybe."

I'm not expecting to hear from him at all much less later that night. So when my phone buzzes I flop like some kind of beached mammal across my bed to reach it. Phone chargers need to be extension cord length.

I bite my lip to keep from squealing a little when I read the text.

Hey. This is Pete. I hear there's this guy trying to kill people in our building. I'd avoid the stairs.

Good to know. They let anyone live here these days. The neighborhood is really going downhill.

Tell me about it. There's this really hot girl that is an admitted stalker. I'm glad I have you to protect me.

Funny. I rescind any alliances. You no longer deserve my protection. Plus you played the hot girl card too soon.

Damn. I was trying to be bold. You have to know you are beautiful though.

I can feel the heat of my blush and it is ridiculous because it's not like he is saying these things to my face.

Nice try.

I'm an artist Katniss. I have an eye for beauty.

Don't make me gag please. You're an artist?

LOL. Well in the sense that I like to doodle on my lunch break at work? Then yes.

And where is work?

I run a bakery over on fifth.

See this would have gone really well for you if you lead with the baker thing.

Ahhh. So she likes to eat.

She does.

Well in that case.

I sit waiting for the little dots to tell me he is still typing but they don't come. Instead after a minute my doorbell rings and I nearly fall off the bed. Oh my god surely not.

Wrapping my robe around my body I tip toe to the peep hole but no one is in the hall. Easing open the door I peak down both sides but it is empty. When I look down I see a white box identical to the ones from this morning.

Smiling to myself I grab it and close the door. Setting it on the table I open it to rows of danish glazed and shining. Part of me reasons that I hardly know this guy and if this were an episode of Criminal Minds he could very well be an incredible sexy serial killer that likes to poison his prey with baked goods.

But between the smells and the fact that for some reason I feel like I've known him a lot longer I grab some gooey cherry confection and sigh as I take a huge bite.

Fuck me it is good.

From my room my phone buzzes.

Which one did you eat?

Cherry.

And?

*rolls eyes It was delicious.

I cannot believe you rolled your eyes. You pretty much suck at compliments.

I laugh out loud.

My people skills aren't the best.

People skills are overrated.

They are. Goodnight Pete.

Goodnight Katniss.

Over the next two weeks we text every night. Then we start sending them during the day.

He sends me a picture of his face covered in flour warning me about the hazards of kitchen mixers. So I send him a picture of my knee covered in band aids warning him about the hazards of me trying to navigate life in heels.

I'm not sure which of us decides to say fuck it and just actually calls the other but we find ourselves on the phone for hours. The lack of thumb cramping is a relief.

"So you've lived everywhere."

"Certified army brat."

"Did you like it?"

Flipping over onto my stomach I say, "Some of it was wonderful. Seeing the world and everything but lots of parts sucked."

I can hear him move and have to concentrate on clean thoughts because it sounds like he is in bed.

"What parts sucked?"

"Well you can't really have any friends when you move all the time. Or you eventually do your best not to make any so it's easier."

Pouring a glass of wine I walk back to my room and take a small sip before putting it on my nightstand.

He sighs. "Sounds lonely."

"It wasn't always."

There is a smile in his voice when he says,"So a friend or two managed to sneak in."

I can't help but grin. "Only one. But yeah he snuck up on me."

"Oh you so broke his heart when you moved."

Smiling at the ceiling I scoff. "I did not! He probably forgot about me within a few weeks."

"Oh you definitely did…and there is no way he could ever forget you. Trust me. He remembers everything about you."

I like the idea so much I don't argue. I just whisper, "I hope so."

"So you were star crossed lovers brought together and then torn apart by fate"

"Oh my god we were not lovers." I snort and take another drink.

"Don't ruin this for me I am being dramatic."

Laughing I moan into my pillow. "We only kissed once!"

"Best moment of that kid's life."

"I was probably terrible at it."

"Oh please you became the star of his every fantasy after that."

I am mortified that I am blushing but I can't help it.

"We were fourteen. He had no fantasies."

Laughing out loud he says, "Goodness Katniss you're pure."

Hearing him say those words makes my heart race for a second and I don't know why.

He keeps talking, "As a guy who was once a fourteen year old and also as a guy that has gotten a good look at you…there were so many fantasies. Trust me."

Feeling just a little bit bold probably from the wine I ask, "So you're saying you would fantasize about me if we were fourteen?"

Oh shit. Why did I say that?

He's quiet and I am about two seconds from making some terrible excuse and hiding under my blankets when he says softly, "You have no idea Katniss."

I swallow and listen to him breathe. Something feels heavy all of the sudden and it makes me shift on my sheets and my heart pound beneath my ribs, in my head, between my thighs…

"I don't think being fourteen would have anything to do with it. I haven't been able to stop since I ran into you a few weeks ago."

Oh. Fuck.

"You think about me?"

That is not my voice. That shaking needy voice is not mine.

He laughs softly and for some reason I picture him dragging a hand through his hair. "All the time."

Holding the phone so tight my fingers begin to ache I ask, "What do you think about?"

He lets out a rush of air before saying, "Simple things. Sometimes curious things. Sometimes filthy things."

I can't breathe.

"Tell me something."

It is probably only seconds before he starts talking but it feels like a lifetime. At the rough sound of his voice my eyes fall closed.

"I wonder what you dream of. If you have nightmares. The sounds you make in your sleep. If you stay still all night or get tangled in the sheets. That spirals pretty quickly though…then I'm thinking about what I would do to you to make your back arch off of them."

Oh my god.

"Do you want to know what I would do?"

I should hang up. I can't seem to pull in enough air and I'm squeezing my legs together and I should hang up.

"I want to know."

His voice is strained and sounds delicious as he hisses, "Fuck Katniss."

He's panting over the line now and my hand is hesitating over the band of my sleep shorts my fingers digging into my stomach.

"I should go."

No. God please keep going.

"Yeah. It's pretty late."

He stays quiet for a moment. "I don't want to go you know that right?"

Do I? God I can hardly think straight at all.

"I really like you Katniss. I want to do this right."

As worked up as I am and infuriating as it is I can't help but smile as I tell him goodnight.

Then I flop onto my bed and kick my feet for a good thirty seconds. Apparently sexual frustration on me looks like a toddler throwing a temper tantrum.

I don't see Pete or hear from him until late afternoon the next day. He texts asking to take me on an official date this coming weekend and the thrill of it is like a burst of energy that gets me through the rest of the day.

I actually go for dinner and then drinks with some coworkers. I do a little tipsy window shopping and take a cab ride home enjoying the lights of the city and the smell of fall.

At the sound of my shoes on the tile the doorman turns and I am almost to the elevator when he stops me, "Miss! I mean ma'am?"

"Yes?"

He takes a moment to catch his breath. "You live on the sixth floor?"

Confused I just nod but I guess he's worked here for years it isn't too farfetched to believe he's noticed the floor I ride to every single night.

"The gentlemen from 6F dropped some of his mail. Could you maybe slide it under his door?"

Smiling to reassure him I take the small stack of envelopes and grin to myself because this seems like fate just maybe wants me to see my hot weekend date a day early.

Riding up I look down at the utility bill in my hand.

That's when my world actually stops.

Peeta Mellark.

Peeta.

I haven't seen or heard this name in so long it is like my brain can't catch up.

Then it does.

Pete is Peeta. My Peeta.

So many pictures fill my head.

Afternoons of his pink cheeks and big eyes and the flash of his smile. I can hear his laughter and see the crinkles near his eyes and then I think of the man behind the door in front of me.

He's taller and his arms are thick and his stomach isn't round straining the band of jeans three inches too long.

But his dimple is the same. His eyes are just as blue. His face. That face that I fall asleep thinking about is the grown face of the boy I fell asleep crying over for years.

Peeta. I thought I'd never see him again.

But he's here. He's here and…he knew.

He recognized me that first day when he said my name and he lied.

Anger and hurt pump their way from my heart through my veins.

He's been lying to me every night.

Last night… all those things he said.

I'm so confused and just shaking with something I don't recognize and I am just done as I throw my purse and my coat into my apartment. I slam the door shut behind me not giving a shit that it's after ten and some people might be sleeping.

I take the five steps to his door and pound every ounce of frustration into it with my fist.

My chest is heaving with each angry breath I breathe while I wait for him to answer. I hear his footfalls. Those stupid fucking heavy footfalls.

He pulls the door open and when he sees me he smiles. Then he takes in the look on my face and it falls.

I'm trying to concentrate. I really am. I have never been this confused, or hurt, or frankly pissed off in my entire life.

But Peeta is leaning against the frame of the door. And he's shirtless. Shirtless and wearing nothing but flannel green pajama pants that nearly fall off of his hips. Nothing but a head of hair that is sticking up all directions, and when he fucking smiles at me I nearly collapse at the flash of a silver retainer over his teeth.

There's just so much skin. I never got the chance to see what was under his clothes when we were kids. I just knew he was warm all the time and I liked the feel of his chest and arms when he'd hug me.

His shoulders are mountains above his arms which are lean with tendons that flex and this one vein that bulges slightly as he flexes his hands against the door.

I take in the lines of his chest, the smoothness of his skin, and the fair hairs the same color as his eyelashes that are scattered across it. The trim cut of his waist with abdominal muscles that seem to roll and flex as my eyes follow them down to a trail of hair a shade darker than those on his head.

Oh my god.

"Katniss?"

His voice has gotten so deep. How did I miss all the years that changed his body and his voice? How can I waste even another second with him in front of me being mad?

"Peeta?"

Those beautiful eyes widen and he blinks like he doesn't know how I'm about to react.

His mouth opens and closes a handful of times. He reaches towards me but pulls his hands away. Finally words just start to spill out of him.

"Shit. Katniss I was going to tell you tomorrow and I'm so sorry. I just…god it was you. I looked down and you were here and I couldn't come up with a fucking thing to say. Hell at that point I had fantasized about that very moment for ten years and I was convinced I had finally cracked up and you weren't real. But god you were. And you didn't recognize me and then I didn't really know what to do so…"

I can't stand it anymore. He keeps tugging at his hair and that retainer keeps flashing at me when he talks and my god I've missed him so much so I launch myself forward and kiss him.

His protests fall into my mouth and turn swiftly to a long groan that I feel slowly seep down my spine to the tips of my toes. His lips are warm and his breath smells like mint. My fingers climb his neck and I pull his hair which makes him curse and finally he lifts me up and kicks the door closed with his foot.

My legs wrap around his waist and his hands grope at my ass and up my back and wrap around my hair. I thrust my tongue past his lips to meet his and he sighs against my cheek. He tastes different. Like mint and like a man and I grin when my tongue meets the metal over his teeth.

"Fuck. Here." He sets me down and then rips it out of his mouth tossing it behind him onto the kitchen counter.

It only takes a moment before he whips his head around with a horrified look on his face.

"Oh my god that was disgusting. I don't know why I did that."

He's breathing hard and what it does to his stomach muscles is criminal. That's new. But even though his cheeks aren't round anymore they still flush the most delicious color pink and it still reaches his ears.

Again I am dizzy with how much I missed him. Dizzy with how much I want him.

Before he can apologize again I laugh and bite my way back into his mouth and literally climb him until he is as close as humanly possible.

The sound he makes is amazing. Somewhere between a whimper and a frustrated groan.

I'm relentless with my mouth. Like I have a decade of time to make up for between his lips. He backs into the kitchen table and curses but pushes off to direct us toward a hallway. He nearly trips and crashes against a corner wall when my mouth moves to his neck.

"You are going to kill me Katniss."

I just laugh and bite down on his collarbone.

By the time we make it into his bedroom there could be a few pictures on the wall that didn't make it and I am pretty sure we each earned more than a few bruises.

We really don't give a shit.

He tosses me like I weigh nothing onto his bed and for a second I am lost in a cloud of creamy comforter. But almost immediately Peeta is above me kissing my cheek and my neck and with his beautiful hands running all over me.

I kick off my shoes. I think one knocks a lamp off his desk and at this point I just let an enormous belly laugh fill the room. It makes my head arch back and his mouth attacks my neck with his teeth.

Digging my fingers into the small of his back I urge his hips against me. He's impossibly hard and my god he feels good as he thrusts between my thighs. Together we fight my shirt over my head and then the button of my pants.

Each article of clothing that hits the floor makes Peeta mutter the filthiest words from desperate lips.

Using my feet I push his pants past his hips. He doesn't have anything on underneath them so he hisses in relief when he springs free and hard and insistent up against his stomach.

He's thick and big and I cannot believe we are doing this.

Staring at him he twitches and it makes me look up into Peeta's eyes.

He smiles at me and shrugs. "You did that thing with your lips. It used to drive me crazy in school."

This time on purpose I lick my lips and he groans before kissing me.

We are a flurry of hands and kissing mouths after that. He drags my bra down my arms as I unclasp the back. When his mouth travels across my chest to take my breast into his mouth Peeta starts to talk.

He tells me I'm more beautiful than any fantasy he could come up with. He kisses my stomach telling me that he spent years wanting to know what my skin would taste like as his tongue drags over my hips and his hands drag my panties down my legs.

He dreamed of what my voice would sound like when I came. So he lifts my legs over his shoulders and his mouth falls between my thighs and he finds out.

My back does arch off the sheets and my hands anchor in his hair when I fall apart the first time.

Grabbing and opening a condom he climbs back up my body. His lips never leave my skin.

He whispers how he can't believe this is real and he is whispering my name as he slides inside me.

I'm full and I'm breathless and it is beautiful when he begins to move.

He rests his head on mine and he thrusts into me slowly making my toes curl each time. He kisses my cheeks and breathes into my hair.

My fingers slide over the slick skin of his back and when his starts moving faster I hold onto his shoulders to keep from shooting into the rocking headboard of the bed.

He feels so good.

I lock my feet above his ass and his name starts to fall from my lips.

He rocks into me harder. He pins my leg to the bed and pulls back farther before surging forward. Sweat beads his hairline and drips onto his lips and my nails dig into his skin.

When he angles his hips so there is hardly room for me to move I feel the heat begin to coil inside me. It is between my legs and burns in my belly.

Then Peeta begins to whisper just my name over and over again and it surges through my chest and down my legs and my mouth falls open with a silent scream my body pulling him further inside me as I come.

He's kissing me when he falls apart minutes later. He shouts into my mouth and tenses above me and I hold him to me until he finally stills.

We are a pile of sweaty limbs and heaving breaths and when he pulls back slightly we become mess of giddy laughter.

He kisses my nose and his fingers lace through mine against the mattress.

Looking into my eyes he says, "Wow."

I can't help the wide smile that spreads across my lips. "I'll take wow."

He leans forward to whisper into my ear. "Did you learn all that from reading porn?"

"Oh my god!"

Laughing I use my foot to kick him in the ass. "Don't ruin it!"

Rolling onto his back he turns towards me. "Absolutely nothing could ruin this for me."

I grin back because he is actually absolutely right.

Flipping onto my side I prop my head on my hand and run my other hand across his chest.

"You know what I wish?"

He watches my fingers as they lay over his heart. "What?"

"That I could live here. That I could live in this moment with you forever. For always."

His eyes look between mine and after a moment he nods his head. "Always sounds nice."

I nod and curl into his body and whisper against his shoulder. "It does."

His hand runs down the back of my head and he pulls me in close.

We lay like this for a long time before his voice in the room startles me. "Just so we are clear since the whole wishing thing did not work out the last time…in this always scenario you are talking about being naked right?"

I pinch his side and laughing he roll us to pin me to the bed. His eyes are the same blue and I have loved that smile for ten years. I don't know how I didn't see it before.

"You are unbelievable."

He just grins at me. "What? It's your wish. I'll allow it."