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Instead, I thought of my skirt.It's not like it had disappeared completely. I pulled it out of my bag. It slipped on as easily as it had come off. I scooted to the end of the seat, taking a moment to wipe up the surprisingly small damp spot where I had been sitting. I stood up, put my coat on, sat back down, took a big drink of cold, sweet tea, and slipped the skirt back off. If he thought that was against the rules, he could stick it.He didn't think that at all. When I glared up at him as I stuffed the skirt back in the bag, he was standing next to the table with our bag of food, grinning and doing a little golf clap. Then he picked the paper up off the table and handed it to me again. Shirt. I wondered for a moment if the waitress had seen the paper. It didn't matter. I'd never see her again.I headed for the bathroom. My coat was long enough to reach my knees, so it covered everything well enough, but trying to walk quickly made it incredibly drafty. Doubly so because of how wet. ‘Your feet are ice cold!’ I clinched my eyes shut, cursing my bad circulation. ‘Come here,’ he said gently. I laid facing away from him, curled up because I was so cold. I edged my way toward him, still not looking at him or speaking to him. I felt his body come up to lay against mine, and immediately felt warmer. He rubbed my arm gently, trying to warm me up. ‘Thank you,’ I said, feeling more relaxed. Then I felt his arm find its way to my hip, and he slowly slid it down across my waist. I don’t know how long I held my breath, but it wasn’t long enough. My eyes were shut tightly, and I could not wait for sleep to come. Just his touch filled my soul up to the brim, and I could not remember I time when I had felt more whole. ‘Better?’ He asked, and I nodded. He was just trying to warm me up, I was certain. It would come to no more than that. I rolled onto my back to look at him, and smiled. Yes, I was definitely still holding my breath as his hand massaged my stomach gently. Through.
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