Twenty-two hours he had traveled to get there. You’d think his hair would be messy but it seemed to always look like he had just been prepped for a Ralph Lauren ad. He made his way around the corner an through the courtyard, carrying just his beat brown leather duffel. He saw the front door, a burnt yellow with the numbers 511 hanging over the threshold. He paused for a second and took a deep breath before making his approach. Before his hand reached the knocker, the door swung open and there he saw her, his host for the week.
“You’re very pretty,” he said before he could even catch himself.
A smile jumped on her face as she let out an awkward sound that turned into a cover up cough. “You should come inside,” she managed to say.
He walked in without taking his eyes off her, slid off his shoes and set down the duffel. He had the thought to kiss her right there but didn’t.
“Would you like to see the house?” She asked.
With a quick brush of her bangs behind her ear he was able to see the soft skin of her neck. Walking behind her, he noticed the gentle slope of her shoulders and smoothness of her calves.
“What do you do for work? What brings you to Barcelona?” She said rather quickly in an attempt to get the air moving through all the tension.
“Both, I suppose.”
“I’m a photographer. I’m here to see things that make it hard to breathe,” he said as he grabbed her hand.
This time she did gasp as he pulled her into his chest, her head leaning back to look over his face. His frame was broad compared to hers and with his hands on her shoulders she felt delicate and safe. There was a moment when neither of their hearts were beating, or if they were, no one noticed.
She pressed off slightly and said, “Let me show you the rest of the house.” The whole exchange no longer than one breath. The whole exchange never to leave either of their bodies.
They continued through the back hallway and into the study. The loose hairs from her bun grazing along the back of her neck and the light coming through the window on the same spot. He could see nothing else. One more time he thought. So he did. He grabbed her arm this time and turned her around until she was right before him. Without a word he put he hand behind her head and pulled her lips onto his. Some kisses are soft and tender but this one was the type that made you question everything you were doing in your own life.
And then it was over, as she pushed him away again. “Please, stop. You can’t just do that. That’s not what this is.”
“That’s exactly what this is. I know you’re feeling the same as me.”
“We still have to see the upstairs.”
And so they went. And into the final room, the study.
Turning the corner he saw another figure.
“This is my husband. He is the one that enjoys having guests in our home.”
“Nice to meet you. We will have a nice week,” he said.