Chapter 7

The Encounters

"Nice tattoo." The guy's whose name I had learned is James says.

I nod my head politely, folding my shirt into my beach bag.

And that's when Cato interjected. "What? Tattoo? You got a tattoo Everdeen?"

"Yeah," I mumble, "A little while ago."

At that response a cunningly, pleased smile grows across his lips. "Let's see it," he says. And so turning around I lift my arm the slightest bit revealing my tattoo and my scars. I don't like to look at it often, it remind me of Peeta and the mistake I made, but it was a permanent reminder I would have to live with. "Impressive," Cato says setting his hand at the top of my rib cage where the feathered fletchings is, "Never thought you were a tattoo type of girl."

"Neither did I," I mumble to myself turning away from Cato's touch to lay down on my beach towel. Lying down I hear two voice say something about going down by the water whom I assume is James and Andrew as moments later Cato lays down beside my towel on his back on the sand.

"Grumpy much?" He says causing me to shoot him a glare. "

Cato, it's my day off and I haven't slept in the last six days and all I really want to do it just relax, and hopefully sleep for a couple hours."

He nods his head in acknowledgement. "Okay, sure," he says, "No problem."

Rolling my eyes I'm nearly sure that won't happen, that in a matter of a few hours I would be up and around playing a game of football or frisbee with Cato and his frat brothers. So reluctantly shutting my eyes I focused on sleeping or at the very least finding a few hours of relaxation. And at the moment I was relaxed and I had to say it was nice. Feeling the warm sun glistening down on my skin and a soft breath blowing across my back I took it all in. As I lay there for several minutes, I twist and turn, shuffle and shift on my beach towel till I find myself in a comfortable position, my right toes buried in the warm sand, my left knee bent just a bit, and my left arm rested under my head along with my hair pulled back in a messy bun. It was perfect, nearly. Nevertheless as I lay there I couldn't seem to find myself unable to fall asleep as there was some sort of lingering annoyance or stillness in the air. Peeking my right eye open I saw Cato staring back at me with a childish grin on his lips.

"Stop staring at me," I mumble shutting my eye.

He grunts. "Grumpy."

No less than four hours later as I had expected I was no longer lying on my beach towel sleeping or even relaxing. James and I were picking snacks off the shelves of the local Gas 'n Go while Cato and Andrew were setting up the volleyball net back at the beach. I had left James wandering the isles after handing him a gallon of water and a couple granola bars to purchase at the cash register before going off on my own and leaving him to grab whatever food him and the guys would eat. Grabbing a pack of carrots from the refrigerated section I went to check out to inform Mr. Maloan I was not stealing the carrots and to charge James for them before heading out the door. And as I pushed against the front door, opening the bag of carrots in the process, I rammed into hard body taking us both to the ground.

"Ahhh," I groaned planting my hands on the ground on either side of the person's body before pushing myself off their chest, "Shit, ahh, sorry I didn't see you. Sorry."

Rambling on I finally get to my feet. Brushing whatever dirty and sand was on my legs and jean shorts off I swiftly adjust my bikini top to make sure I was covered; and note that I was good.

Then finally looking up I came to see Peeta lifting himself off the ground with my bag of carrots clutched in his hand. Oh no. Crap. Feeling my body go stiff and my brain shut down I stood there staring blankly at Peeta.

Crap. Shit. Crap.

Peeta, he was there right in front of me and god did he look good. His hair was a little longer than it was last time I had seen him and at the moment it looked as if he just run his hands through it. His eyes were still that sea of blue I could lose myself in. His shoulders and chest were sculpted perfectly under his t-shirt. God I missed him and not just him. I missed the way he made me feel, how I was around him, how we were. But I messed it all up so I had no right to complain. Nevertheless even though I missed Peeta, the one that stood in front of me was different. He looked tired and sad, a side of my Peeta I barely ever saw or never had the honor of coming accustom to. This had to be what Rye had been screaming at me about that night at the bar, this grayish film that had become a layer of Peeta's figure. I mean hell he was wearing a black t-shirt with a pair of dark basketball shorts; these were not the normal cheerful colors he usually wore like the blues and oranges.

"Hey Katniss," he says running his hand through his hair nervously. Crappp.

"Hey," I say just as nervously, "Hey Peeta."

"Hey," he repeats himself. Ummm, I think, what am I supposed to do now? "Oh, ahhh, here," he says handing out the bag of carrots in front of him towards me, "These are yours."

"Thanks," I mumble taking the carrots from his hand. "Um, you want one?"

He shakes his head no and I just nod in response. Then the air between us fell silent. Great, way to make things awkward Katniss. Slowly beginning to bounce up and down on the balls of my feet in anxiousness, I look around for a way out. And then I hear the customer bell ring causing me to turn to see James walking out the door with two plastic bags in hand along with my gallon of water. Turning to quickly take the gallon of water from James's hand I turn back to Peeta.

"Hey, I gotta go."

He nods his head. Then as I am walking away he calls out. "Katniss can we- sometime can we get together and talk about- about us."

Shifting to look to him I want to say no cause I don't want to hurt him anymore, but instead I nod my head yes. "Um, sure. I'll- I'll stop by the bakery on Friday next week."

Then he gave me a genuine smile, "Thank you."

Diving for the volleyball I tumble into the sand missing it by just a few inches. Dammit. "And we win," James and Andrew roar throwing their hands up in the air high-fiving one another, "Victory is ours!" Hooting and hollering they take the volleyball and make their way back toward where our beach towels are laid out.

Still lying in the sand I roll over so I was lying on my back. Then unexpectedly out of nowhere, Cato dropped down on me landing on the palms of him hand like he was setting himself to do a push-up. Lowering himself closer down toward me so that our chests were nearly touching he gave me a smile.

"You aren't claustrophobic are you?"

"No," I say, "But can I ask why so close?"

He gave me a devious looking smile. "Why? Am I making you uncomfortable?"

Rolling my eyes I let out a snort. "Nope," I say popping the "p."

"Good," he responds basically dropping all his body weight to he is lying on top of me. And god he was heavy. He was probably an inch or so taller than six feet and probably weighed over two hundred pounds.

"Lose some weight," I say in dramatic gasp, "Too heavy."

"Hey," he says protest having his chest press against mine as he breathed in to talk, "I'm insulted. And for your information, I have zero percent body fat, Everdeen. It's all muscle."

Letting out another laugh I push against his shoulders thinking maybe I could get him to roll off me, but I'll restate, he was heavy. "So what do you want?"

He gave me a cunningly smirk and a wink of the eye. "You know what?"

"What do you want that's in reason Cato," I restate myself, "And if you say nothing then would you please for the love of god get off me before my rib cage collapses again under your massive weigh."

"Come get a drink with me," he says adding in, "And muscle weighs three times the amount of fat."

"Righttt," I drag out, "And I'm not going to go get a drink at my own bar Cato, especially on my day off. Think of something else and in reason." He gave me a smile pushing himself off me so he was standing up. T

hen reaching his hand out in front of me I took it.

"We'll get a drink," he reaffirms pulling me onto my feet.

"You bought the old firehouse," I say in amusement as we walk through the door, "How the hell did you get the money to buy this place? Brutus?" He let out a snort placing his keys into a bowl that sat on an end table close to the door.

"You know I have a job right? I do make money? I do pay for myself and my things? I am independent twenty-three year old man."

I look at him impressed. "Really? And what do you exactly do?"

"Stocks, I trade," he says leading me down the hall and into the kitchen. "

Shit!" I nearly shout before clamping my hand over my mouth looking at the size of his kitchen. It could have belonged to a restaurant. It was enormous.

"Yeah I know it's kinda big, a little too much, but it came with the place. Beer?"

"Yeah," I nod, hopping up onto the center table. Watching him open the refrigerator grabbing two beers I looked around. Connect to gigantic kitchen was a living room just as big with a flat screen, two couches, and a pool table. There were a few doorways which I assumed lead to some other rooms or maybe the garage with those poles the firefighters would slide down in emergencies.

Looking back, Cato stood in front of me holding out an open beer. "Thanks," I murmur taking the beer from his hands. As I take a swig of my beer, Cato took a swig of his own beer as he leaned back against the counter across from me. "So where are James and Andrew?" I ask intrigued as of why they didn't come back to the house with us.

He laughed. "At your bar."

I laughed too. "Oh god," I say, "Please tell me they're not like you, that they can be civil at times."

He laughed even more pushing himself off the counter. "I'm not that bad," he says in protest, "And I am civil."

I laugh setting down my beer, "The first time you came to the bar I had to have you thrown out."

He grunts setting his beer down on the table beside mind before putting his hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay," he says, "Maybe I'm not always on my best behavior, but I can promise you James and Andrew won't cause a rumpus."

"Rumpus," I laugh, "Nice vocabulary."

He joins in on my laughter, "Hey, at least I try."

Continuing to laugh I don't realize how close Cato is till there is only inches separating us. When our laughter die the room falls silent. And then ever so slowly we begin to grow closer and closer. It isn't till just as my eyes are about to close that they see that blue, that sea of blue I will never be able to get from my mind that a familiar need, sense overcomes me. That's when our lips clash together. The action is rough and needy and not at all as I remember it being, not that slow burning flame that I was use too. The passion is different as if something changed. And that's when it clicks as Cato's tongue slithers into my mouth that I can't do this. Cato is not Peeta. I need Peeta, I love Peeta, and there is no one else. Pushing away from him I gasp for air. Shittt. Pulling at my hair, my brain goes into panic mode.

"I can't do this," I say in a low tone as I fall from the table to my feet, "I'm sorry, I can't."

"It's because of him," Cato's voice says from somewhere unknown, "Lover Boy?"

I nod my head as I sling my bag over my shoulder and the tears had found their way down my cheeks. "I can't. He's- he's it. I screwed up and have to- have to live with it," I mumble, "I'm sorry I can't. You were- you're nice, really. A gentlemen. But I can't, not to you…" I trail on as I slowly back my way to the door.

"I can't."