Chapter Four
PM
Writing Jams: Scar Tissue- Red Hot Chili Peppers
I can't stop thinking about her. About the way she felt in my arms two days ago, so small, so strong, and so warm. It all just felt so right. She smelled like lavender and leather and of the pine that surrounds the mountains. All I wanted to do was to get drunk off of her scent. I could still smell her on my shirt hours later, which made for a distracting afternoon, but in those brief moments I felt more alive than I have ever felt, and I can't help but wonder what it would be like to be intimate with her. How she would feel with her shapely legs wrapped around my waist as I pump into her, my hands running down her silky thighs, the rough texture of my skin against the softness of hers causing goose bumps to trail after their wake and traveling over the flat plane of her stomach to cup and mound her ample breasts. How her voice would sound singing my name as she crumbled around and beneath me, the black waves of her hair splayed out on the pillow like a halo and those olive cheeks tinted the softest shade of pink. I'm almost ashamed to admit how often I've been kept up at night with no one but my hand to accompany my thoughts of her. Has she thought of me that way? Why would she, she hardly knows me. I'm just some guy she met a few times before. Yet I still can't seem to get her out of my head.
Her image haunts me when I close my eyes. I hear that sweet, southern lilt of her voice everywhere I go. To say I have it bad for Katniss Everdeen is an understatement. I'm hooked. I knew it from the moment we first met that she would have me wrapped around her finger. Running into her at Sae's was a stroke of luck, and having her actually show up at the bakery later that day had me wondering if the God I spent almost half of my life believing in was real. Judging by the way Reese was acting when he got home from his date, I wasn't too sure if I would ever see her again (and I didn't know if I should feel elated, or devastated by that fact), but running into her at that restaurant was a godsend. Seeing her sitting there, with the sunlight shining off of her raven hair, her head thrown back as she laughed along with her sister had me breathless and our short-lived exchange in the bakery had sent shivers down my spine.
I lean back against the couch cushion and fiddle with the business card she gave me. The hard card stock has now turned into a soft, pliable piece of paper from the all abuse it has been put through in such short amount of time. I run my thumb over the black letters of her name, my mind too preoccupied with thoughts of Katniss to pay attention to my best friend's commentary of tonight's playoff game. Everything is background noise. It all has been since the moment she walked through that bakery door.
"Still fucking with that card?" chuckles Finnick as his eyes follow the red clad hockey players dashing back and forth on the TV screen. My ears burn from the accusation but I shrug and shove the card back into my pocket and focus my attention back to the game. Tonight is my night off from the bakery and with Finnick finally being back home after a month long research study in the Atlantic Ocean, we've been lounging around the living room as I catch him up on the things he's missed being away from Blue Mountain. Besides Rue, he's the only other person whom I've told of my growing infatuation with Katniss Everdeen. "Just call her, Peet. She did say it was okay."
He's right. She did say it was okay. Because it was a trade for all the bread you gave her, I think to myself bitterly. But I wanted to give her all those things. I would give her all the bread in the bakery if that meant I would have a chance to see her again. But this is just for free trial at a gym, after all. Nothing more, nothing less. So, why is dialing a few numbers and having a conversation with someone such a difficult idea to fathom? Maybe because that someone is a woman who managed to flip my world upside down in such a short amount of time.
Never in all my years have I met someone who had this effect on me; someone who could just walk into my life and suddenly change everything. I've had a few relationships in the past but the women I dated never managed to light my fire the way Katniss did.
That was it.
She was fire and I was coal, glowing brighter and brighter as she continues to consume me.
"What do I do about Reese?" I ask, taking a glance at the front door of our apartment. My brother should be home any minute from the bakery. I'm not too sure how he would react to me having feelings towards Katniss. As a child, Reese was pretty territorial to the things he had or wanted, and he was incredibly dedicated to making sure that they had a good first date but he hasn't really mentioned her since we last saw her. I'm annoyed at myself for harboring feelings towards Katniss when it was my brother who took the time to ask her out while I pined from a far. Now that I've been around her I don't think I can shake off what I'm feeling towards her.
"Who gives a shit about Reese? He'll have another girl in a few days after his ego heals. I applaud Katniss for not sleeping with him and falling for his bullshit, he needs a good ego bruising," says Finnick. Thinking of Reese and Katniss together in that way leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. Finnick sees my angry expression and sighs.
"Look, Peeta. They had one date. One. I've been back home for only eight hours now and I can already tell that this girl pulled a number on you. I've seen this girl over at Ripper's a few times. She's a looker and a hell of a singer and I don't blame you for falling hard for her." He glances back to the game just in time for his team to score a goal. He lets out a loud whoop which results in a chips and beer splashed all over the front of his shirt. He chuckles and settles back into the couch.
"Plus," Finnick adds, shaking off the mess from his shirt and onto the floor. "It seems like he's getting over not getting laid. You know how he likes to brag about his conquests."
"Yeah but-"I begin but Finnick cuts me off. He looks at me seriously and I feel like I'm five years old again being scolded for trying to steal a cookie off the counter. Even clouded with alcohol, his sea green eyes manage to make me shrink back into the cushion from their intensity.
"One date doesn't mean shit, Peet. What are you so afraid of? Why are you so worried about what Reese thinks? He'll forget about her in no time and then you can swoop in on your white horse and y'all can ride off into the sunset or whatever it is women dream of. Honestly, you're making it harder on yourself."
Finnick does make a good point. I've been adding unnecessary stress into my life because of one date that I didn't have and probably didn't mean anything in the first place. Why should I care what Reese thinks? We aren't kids anymore. Reese will be moving on like he always does. It wouldn't hurt to call and set up the gym trial- I've been meaning to get back into working out, and now that Finnick has moved back home, I won't be stuck at the bakery every day.
I am making this more difficult than it should be.
"You're right, Finn," I say. "I'll give her a call."
Finnick grins and settles back into the couch, focusing back on the screen.
"Well if and whenever you do, ask her if she has any single friends."
Around eight in the evening I finally emerge from the bathroom, still wet and wrapped in a towel after a long, much needed shower. I shut my bedroom door and sit at the edge of my bed beside my nightstand. I pull out fresh shorts and remove my prosthesis before slipping them on. I set the prosthetic leg aside, grab my phone, and collapse on top of the sheets. I had nervously called Katniss before my shower. My heart pounded in my ears as I held the feeble card in my fingertips and dialed in her cell number. The phone rang for a minute and relief and disappointment ran through my system as it went to voicemail. I left the most awkward message I have ever made and immediately headed into the shower for a distraction. I cautiously press the home button and I'm surprised to see a missed call and a text from her. God this is ridiculous, I think as my heartbeat quickens as I slide my thumb against the screen.
(7:45pm) Katniss E: Peeta, hi! This is Katniss. I'm so sorry I missed your call- I was finishing a class. I tried calling back but you must be busy. I hope you don't mind that I texted you… If it's not too late, I'll give you a call back in an hour or so when I've wrapped up here. So sorry again! Talk to you soon!
I freeze. I had expected to just forget trying to call her back and attempt it again in the morning but now it seems like I'll be hearing from her sooner than I expected. I have no idea what to say next. Had I not spent the last twenty minutes in the shower formulating a made up conversation with her in my head for when I do speak to her? My thumbs float over the keyboard as I fumble to come up with something else to say.
(8:09pm) Peeta M: It's not too late. I just got out of the shower; sorry I missed YOUR call. I'm up pretty late most nights so call whenever you're free.
There, that wasn't so bad. Now we play the waiting game. I lie on my side and reach for my laptop. I had glanced at her website the second I got home on Saturday but didn't go past the home page, as it was dominated by a large picture of Katniss holding a large bow of some sort, leading an archery class for a group of children. The serious look on her face was nothing I've ever seen before. It was filled with concentration and precision and I could just tell she was an amazing shot. She looked so beautiful with her black hair pulled back in a long braid, and even the crowd of parents and children behind her looked at her in awe.
The vibration of my phone breaks me out of my train of thought and suddenly I'm a nervous wreck again. Shit, has it been an hour already?
Cool it, Peeta.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Peeta? It's Katniss," she says, her voice sounding out of breath. I'm slightly taken aback from how much I enjoy listening to her say my name. I want to know what it sounds like in a moan, like a whispered prayer coming out of those soft lips of hers. That accent she has isn't harsh like the some of the citizens from Blue Mountain whose ancestors worked in the mines. The more merchant class had a northern accent, but hers… It was subtle and incredibly sexy.
"I hope I'm not bothering you, I know it's pretty late," she adds.
"Oh, don't worry about that. I'm not doing much," I say, glancing over at my laptop and catching the gaze of the tiny Katniss on the screen. I suddenly feel unnerved and turn the laptop away from me.
"Well, I'm glad I caught you at a good time," she says with a breathy laugh that runs through my bloodstream and straight to my cock. I can feel myself slowly stiffening against my thigh and I groan inwardly. Not now…
"Yeah," I chuckle awkwardly, adjusting the growing bulge in my shorts. My annoyance is increasing as I struggle to control my body. This woman is going to be the death of me if every time I speak to her my body starts rebelling against me.
"So what's up? Have you decided to join Panem Fitness for the best physical condition of your life?" Katniss says with a mock business like flair.
"Uh, yeah. I think I will try t out," I say.
"Fantastic! Did you get a chance to look at our website? We have plenty to offer," she says, sounding pleased.
Shit. I didn't even bother to get past the first page.
Clicking on the 'services' tab, I scroll through the classes and personal training offers. There is a photo of a small, toned, violent looking woman with half her head shaved leading what seems to be a kick boxing class on the page. I see the fierce look on her face and follow the motion of her body to where her leg collides with the bag. There's no way I would be able to do that.
Well fuck. Katniss doesn't know about my leg. Or does she? Did Reese tell her? I highly doubt that. I grind my teeth in frustration and glance down at the scarred nub where my leg used to be and a wave of anxiety washes over me. Why hadn't I thought about this before? It's almost too late to back out now, and a part of me doesn't want to. How do I even begin to bring my leg up in a conversation with her? I'm not ashamed of it. It took a while but I've finally accepted it. It has just been a long time since I've told anyone- everyone just knew. Or people noticed but were polite enough to say anything. Sometimes even I forget I have it, just because it's been a part of me for so long. But only sometimes. And it would be just my luck that this would be one of those times.
"Peeta?" she says, a note of concern in her tone.
I have to tell her. Now. There's no way I can just show up at the gym with "Surprise! You have a gimp in your gym today!" I take a deep breath and try to shake of the anxiety pumping through my veins.
"Uh yeah! Sorry about that! I think I'll just do a couple of personal training sessions. I haven't been to the gym in a while, I've been too busy with the bakery so I forgot my way around the weights," I chuckle while I can feel my heartbeat increasing in rhythm.
"Okay sure! Good choice, we have some great trainers here," says Katniss. "And not to toot my own horn but I'm the best," she laughs. Her voice and good-natured laugh has a calming effect and I figured now is the best time to bring my leg into the conversation.
"Er, by the way, I guess I should tell you now before we start anything but I, uh," I begin, feeling awkward. "I have a disability." I strain to hear anything from the other end but all I hear is silence.
"A disability? Okay... I can work with that," she says finally.
"Wait, what?" This is going in a whole different direction than I thought it would. I expected a long, drawn out and unwanted explanation on what, how and when I got my prosthesis.
"I said I can work with that."
"Oh. Well, er, that's good to hear."
"Well, aren't you going to tell me what it is, Peeta?" she chuckles nervously. "You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to. Just give me an idea of what's going on so I can best suit your needs," she explains.
God, this woman. Out of all the people who I've ever told about my leg, no one has ever been more relaxed than her. Relief sweeps through me and all I want to do is pick her up and kiss her. That would definitely suit my needs.
"I have a prosthetic leg below my left knee. I had to have my lower leg amputated when I was nine," I explain, hoping I didn't have to dive deeper into my past. Though there was a part of me that wouldn't mind telling her more than I've told anyone else. The only people who know what really happened are Finnick, Reese, and Rue. And of course, her.
"Oh, I'm so sorry you had to go through that, Peeta," she says softly and sincerely.
"It's okay. It happened long ago."
"Well, I had no idea. You seem to cope very well. Um," I hear papers shuffling in the background. "Are you available this Wednesday evening around 8?" she asks, her voice sounding a little off. Did I scare her off already?
"Yes, I can do Wednesday," I say. I want to ask her what's wrong, but this conversation is going so well I don't want to push my luck too much by prying into business that I have no right to know.
"Okay, perfect! I'll pencil you in our schedule." She remains quite for a little while and then says, "It was really nice talking to you again, Peeta. I'm glad you decided to take up my offer."
I feel my face crack into a huge grin.
"Yeah, me too, Katniss."
"If you have any limitations or things you aren't comfortable doing please let me know any time."
"I don't think so, but if anything happens in the next few days, I'll be sure to let you know," I chuckle.
She laughs. "Okay great. I'll talk to you later, then?"
The grin on my face can't possibly get any bigger.
"Of course. Good night, Katniss."
"Night, Peeta."
Well, that wasn't so bad.
I spend the next couple of hours in bed going over product orders for the bakery, my reading glasses dangerously close to falling off the bridge of my nose. Reese usually leaves the boring work for me to deal with so twice a week I'm burdened with mountains of forms to fill out. My eyelids feel like they weigh a thousand pounds when I finally realize how exhausted I am. Yawning, I place all the paperwork back in their folder and toss it on my nightstand. I fumble with the lid to my prescription bottle and pop a couple of morphine tablets before settling into bed. The numbing effects of the morphling finally convince eyes to close when I suddenly feel my phone vibrating across the bed. Not bothering to open my eyes, I grope around until I find the annoying device. I bring it up to my face and squint at the screen. Katniss E. Text message. Mustering all the strength I have to keep my eyes open, I fumble with the screen for a couple of seconds and finally manage to swipe to read her message.
(11:51pm) Katniss E: Sorry for bothering you so late but I just wanted to tell you that your baking will be the death of me. I finished the last of the cheese buns tonight. I'm hooked.
Grinning like an idiot, I settle back onto my stomach and fall quickly to sleep. The last comprehensible thought in my mind before sleep takes me is the plan of making every kind of food imaginable for Katniss Everdeen.
It's a hot, uneventful day at the bakery- all the orders have been completed, hardly any customers have shown up- most likely due to the sweltering heat- and Reese, Finnick, Rue and I are struggling to find things to do. Wednesdays are typically steady business days, but for some reason it has been uncharacteristically slow. I'm starting to feel like it's purposefully tormenting me until my work out tonight. I'll probably be stuck with some impatient, douchebag jock type of guy as my personal trainer and I just want to get it over with. I glance at the clock- a quarter till two- and sigh. I smile politely as the only customer in the store exits and I head into the kitchen. Rue, Finnick and Reese are sitting around the island playing a card game and enjoying the breeze from the only fan strategically placed on one of the counters.
"Alright, Rue, get out of here," I say, taking a seat beside Finnick and turning my head to face the breeze just right. Rue perks up.
"Really? Are you sure?"
I nod. "Yeah, it's way too slow for all of us to be here. Go enjoy your day."
"Aw, thanks, Peeta! Call me if y'all need anything, okay?" she says, grabbing her bag and practically sprinting to the door. "Bye guys!"
"See you," we all say collectively, but it's too late, she's gone.
Finnick moans and bangs his head against the table.
"It's too fucking hot to be in a bakery all day," he groans.
"We can't close shop, we gotta stay open," Reese says, slapping Finn on the back. "Just five more hours, bro, we can do this."
Finnick groans again but suddenly rises from his seat.
"Fuck this, I'm going to by another fan. Y'all want anything?" he says, removing his apron. His bronze hair glistens in sweat and the poor guy looks miserable. He's gotten so used to the ocean breeze that being stuck back in the humid mountains has shocked his system.
"Nah, I'm good man," I say, while Reese rattles off a list of unnecessary junk he needs. Finnick nods and heads out the back door, leaving me to deal with my older brother and an empty bakery. Reese and I sit in silence as we build a house of cards. The front of the bakery remains quiet and empty; the only sound to be heard is the hum of the ovens and the fan. Reese coughs awkwardly and stops building. I glance up to find him studying me.
"What?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. Reese shrugs and picks up a card.
"So," he begins, bending it between his fingers. "You like Katniss Everdeen."
What the fuck?
The card I'm holding fumbles for a split second but I manage to put on a straight face.
"What do you mean?" I ask coolly, adding the card to the top of the stack.
Reese scoffs.
"Don't give me that shit, Peeta. I saw the way you guys were Saturday. She was definitely more into you than she was with me," he chuckles. I continue with building the house of cards, now coming dangerously close to collapsing but I didn't care. I can feel my brother's gaze right through my skull from across the table.
"It's cool, Peeta. Go for it."
I try keeping my look of surprise off my face when I glance up at Reese. His posture is relaxed, though there is something about this conversation that is keeping me on edge.
"Yeah?" I ask cautiously. "You sure?"
Reese shrugs and rises from his seat. He walks over to stand in front of the fan, letting the breeze dry the drops of sweat that line his face.
"Yeah, baby brother, I'm sure. Besides, Cashmere texted me last night and she wants to catch up. And you just don't catch up with Cashmere Davis," he says with a wink. Cashmere and Reese have been hooking up since they were sixteen, so I'm pleased at her timing and with my brother's short attention span when it comes to women. I guess my caution was misplaced.
"Cool," I say, doing my best to hide my excitement. Now that I'm not competing with Reese, my anxiety levels have decreased and I feel better about talking to Katniss. I no longer have to worry about feeling like I'm conspiring against my brother behind his back.
The day drags on slowly as the temperature rises. No one wants to walk into a building that feels like a giant oven- bread can wait another day. Finnick hides out in the walk-in fridge for the majority of the day while Reese and I take advantage of an empty shop and begin on small repairs and late spring cleaning. We speak no more of Katniss Everdeen, to my relief, and work in a comfortable silence, chatting occasionally about last night's hockey game. Reese opens up about Cashmere and wonders if they have a real connection ("I mean honestly, Peet, we've been doing this dance for ten years now. Maybe she's the one for me, you know?"). I roll my eyes and nod along to whatever Reese is prattling on about and continue to sweep the kitchen floor for the fifth time today.
The pain I felt last week has subsided with the comfort of the new lining and the morphling Dr. Jackson gave me and it has made work the past week so much easier. No more stopping between trips from the delivery truck to a clients business or home, fewer sit down breaks because I couldn't take the pain of standing for so long, and no more Reese and Rue glancing over at me with pity in their eyes when I grimace in the middle of a conversation. Work has become enjoyable again.
As the clock ticks closer and closer to eight o'clock, my nervousness fades way and is replaced by excitement. Even if my trainer is a dick, if I see a glimpse of Katniss, this anticipation and waiting will all be worth it.
The temperature tonight has lowered significantly compared to this afternoon's heat. The sun is gone and the sky is lined with the remnants of tonight's sunset. Varying shades of blues, reds, pinks, and oranges peek out behind mountain and tree tops as I make the trek up to Panem Fitness. The tree lined roads are clear of other drivers- everyone must be home enjoying the cool evening. I pull into the parking lot and take notice of how vacant it is. Including mine, there are only three cars total in the large lot. I park next to a giant Range Rover and turn off the engine.
Suddenly my nerves are brought back up to the surface. Taking a deep breath, I grab my sport bag and slam the car door shut. I reach the glass door leading into the large, renovated warehouse and take one last look at my leg. My prosthesis is now visible underneath my basketball shorts. Well, it's now or never, I think to myself, and make my way inside the building.
The first person I spy in the clean, modern looking reception area is the same small woman I saw on the gym's website, but this time she's with a rather large and fierce looking red headed man. She's even more intimidating in person than on screen, and paired with the man they make a frightening duo. The way they're sitting so intimately behind the desk assure me that they're a couple. Her eyes flit to my leg and back to my face and a look of recognition flashes across her face.
"You must be Peeta," she says as she makes her way around the desk. She reaches up to my shoulders at the most but I'm convinced she can take me down very easily.
I nod. "I have a session at 8, but I wasn't told who my trainer was," I say, gazing back over to the large man behind the desk. If this guy is my trainer, then I might need more than just a prosthetic leg to help me walk out of this place alive.
With a smirk, she turns on the spot and motions for me to follow down a hallway that must lead to the main area of the facility. Relieved and left with no choice, I follow.
"My name is Johanna Mason- I run this place with Katniss. She said you'd be here around this time." Johanna glances down at her watch and shoots me a grin. "You're a couple of minutes early."
"I like to try and be somewhat punctual."
We reach the entrance of the main gym and I walk ahead to open the door for Johanna. She laughs and mutters something about "a gentleman" before disappearing around the corner. Glancing around at the vast fitness center, I don't spy my trainer, whoever he is. And now that I think of it, it seems like I'm the only one in here. Panem Fitness is incredibly impressive. The walls are lined with mirrors and TVs and every gym equipment you can think of are lined in rows and in sections. I spy a small boxing ring in the corner nearest me and can only imagine how awful I'd be at it. I was never good at fighting with my brothers, but I could always manage to pin them down in an occasional wrestling match, even after I lost part of my leg.
"You know, Johanna is really good in the ring. She might even be the best in the state," says a voice behind me, causing me to jump slightly.
I turn and find Katniss laughing at me. She's dressed in tight, black spandex shorts that ride high up her thighs and in a forest green tank top with the gym's logo on front. The outfit hugs her slim, toned body in all the right places. I tear my eyes away from her figure and force them up back to her face. She's a little sweaty and flushed, and I can't help but think how well the rosy colors on her olive cheeks suit her, and how badly I want to be the one to make her this way. Some hairs have escaped the long braid she is donning and they stick to her forehead and neck. Fuck. She is so sexy. Suddenly aware of where I am, I cough awkwardly and hope to god I don't pitch a tent in my shorts. This woman is going to kill me.
"You scared me," I finally say, mentally chastising myself for starting off with something so lame. Katniss chuckles and leans against the squat rack we're standing by.
"I guess we're even, then," she says, grinning wickedly. I can't help but grin back at her.
"Yeah, I guess we are."
Katniss eyes me up and down and her gaze lingers at my leg for a few seconds before settling it back to my face.
"Well!" she says, clapping her hands together loudly. "Shall we get started?"
Wait, what? Katniss is my trainer? If so, then this hour is going to feel like forever. She must notice my look of confusion and begins to explain.
"I hope you don't mind me being your trainer for the night. I had one of my clients bail out this week and thought I'd squeeze you in. If you're uncomfortable then maybe Johanna or Conall can-"
"No!" I say quickly. "No, it's okay. I was just expecting some…"
"Some meathead to be your personal trainer? Yeah, I get that a lot," she scoffs, an annoyed edge to her voice. Oh great, I haven't even been here for ten minutes and I'm already fucking this up. I take a couple of steps towards her and catch her gaze. Her eyes have turned from light grey to almost black.
"No, this is much better than what I had expected," I murmur, wanting so badly to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Katniss stands straight, which minimizes the space between us to a mere couple of inches. I can hear my heart beat in my ears as I watch her eyes travel down to my mouth. I lick my lips nervously and her breath hitches faintly. We stand there watching each other, feeling the energy charge between us. I know that I can't be the only one who feels this way, that the thing between us is tangible.
Katniss immediately shuts her eyes and turns her head, and my heart sinks down to my feet. Oh no, I think to myself. Did I do something wrong? She coughs awkwardly and gives me the smallest of smiles.
"We should probably get started, Peeta," she says quietly, smoothing her tank top down and stepping away. I stare at the spot where she stood and nod.
"I'm all yours."
It was the longest hour of my life.
The longest, most difficult, arousing, and exhausting hour of my life.
"How's it going down there?"
I peek over my arm and see a smirking Katniss standing over my head. I groan and cover my eyes again. She laughs and I can hear her take a seat next to me. She nudges my side with her foot, prompting me to sit up. We sit there facing each other on the soft mats they use for stretching. I don't think I've ever had someone push me so hard in my life. I've gone to the gym with Reese and Finnick before, but I've never put my body through anything like this. Her physical strength and passion for her work was such a turn on. Gone was the quiet, quick-witted girl that attracted me before and appeared the serious, authoritative, powerful woman that pushed me to my limits and back again. Not to mention watching Katniss demonstrate certain stretches, forms and techniques had me very distracted, making me have to redo whatever I was doing. I'm starting to think this gym thing might be hazardous to my health.
"I didn't work you too hard, did I?" she asked, handing me a water bottle. I take it gratefully and down half the bottle in one go. I catch her staring at me, the plastic bottle settling against her smirking lips, and her eyes flit away.
"Well, let's just say that you sure know how to make a man feel weak," I chuckle, tapping her thigh with my left shoe. She throws her head back and laughs and my heart skips a beat. God, I'm such a sucker for this woman already.
"I'll have to tell that to Johanna later. She'll think it's a hoot," Katniss laughs, nudging my leg playfully with her hand, then freezes. Her hands fly to her mouth to cover her gasp.
"Peeta," she whispers, her eyebrows coming together in concern. "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have-"
"It's okay, Katniss, I didn't get it yesterday," I say, and smile to let her know I'm joking. She hides her face in her hands and I laugh. She peeks through her fingers.
"Here," I say, nudging her again with my shoe. She looks down at my prosthesis, confused. I nudge her again.
"Katniss, you can touch it. It's okay. I'll hardly feel a thing," I tease. Katniss rolls her eyes and slowly runs the tips of her fingers down the length of the prosthesis. I hold back a shiver as she places her whole hand around the metal bar. I can feel the phantom limb pain threatening to return, but its more of a dull ache than a pain. An ache to be real instead of man made, to actually feel her touch instead of imagining it.
"I have others," I explain. She glances up at me, her silver eyes unreadable. "I wear this one most of the time, since I'm on my feet a majority of the day. It's a pretty simple design- most prosthesis's look this way. I have one that looks just like a leg, skin tone and everything. I use that one rarely. And I have one to run with."
Katniss removes her hand and places it in her lap. She remains silent for a while and then looks up.
"You did great tonight, Peeta. I've never, uh, worked with someone who had a prosthetic limb before. I wouldn't have ever noticed..." She smiles nervously. "You're in pretty decent shape for a guy who doesn't go to the gym all that often," she teases. I laugh and relief floods my system. So I didn't scare her off. She wouldn't still be here teasing me if I did. I have a strong urge to tell her everything, but I know now's not the time. I don't want to burden her with my shitty sob story.
"Bags of flour, sugar and yeast can be very heavy, believe it or not," I reply with a grin. Katniss' smile widens and she chuckles, her hands finding their way to the end of her braid.
"We should hang out sometime," I say, taking advantage of this comfortable mood. It's now or never. "This was fun."
"Yeah," she says softly, her eyes meeting my gaze. "It was fun."
"Great," I say with a grin so big it threatens to break my face. "My roommate just got back into town and he's playing a show over at Ripper's this Friday. You should come," I say. "With me."
Katniss raises an eyebrow.
"Is this a date, Mellark?" she questions, a hint of a smirk playing at the edge of her lips.
I want it to be.
I run a hand through my sweaty hair nervously.
"I, uh, well, Rue's going," I say, drawing a grin from Katniss. "I figured you could ask Prim to come along too. We've heard nothing but Prim this, and, Prim that for the past few days over at the bakery."
Katniss laughs. "Well I'll see what I can do. I do own a business, after all. I have to be responsible."
"So do I," I say, standing up. I offer her a hand and she takes it. I help her to her feet and we begin the walk back to the lobby. "Are you saying I'm not responsible?"
"Oh, I'm sure you are," she responds as we pass the motivational posters in the hallway. Johanna and that tall man from before are nowhere to be found in the empty lobby. It looks like it's closing time for Panem Fitness. The tile floors look mopped and they shine just barely by the remaining lights. Katniss walks behind the desk to retrieve a set of keys and returns to the front door. I lean my shoulder against the door frame as I watch her search for the key.
"Thanks for having me," I say. Katniss smiles and finds the correct key, sliding it in place.
"Thanks for the bread," she chuckles and pushes the door open and follows me outside. The night has cooled dramatically and she shivers. The other two cars still remain in the parking lot and the moon is shining bright above the mountain tops. It's a pleasant evening to end a busy day.
"I'll see you Friday?" I ask as we approach my car. I open the door and toss my bag inside and turn my head to glance at Katniss. Her hands play with the end of her braid as she watches me climb into the car.
"Maybe," Katniss says mysteriously. I raise an eyebrow. She laughs. "I'll let you know soon. Promise."
"I'll keep you to it."
"Good night, Peeta," she says, rolling her eyes, and steps back onto the sidewalk.
"Night, Katniss."