3.8

This one may not totally fit in with what I have already written but I had a stroke of possible genius last night and figured I would see where it takes me! So bare with me while I explore this idea. Same basic story, just might be a little different.

The apartment was clean, the bright colored trinkets laid out on the reclaimed wood coffee table, the teal accent pillows neatly placed in the crevice of the charcoal gray couch and Mel was showered, dressed and heading out the door headed for The Collective. It had been a very productive day and she was in a great mood. As she closed the oak door and clicked the deadbolt into place she heard someone walking past the many doors to other apartments in the building. She felt herself tense up a bit. Having never felt threatened or afraid in the years she had lived here, her reaction was curious to her. But there was no time to dissect her feelings now.
"Hey, how's it going?" a deep, clearly male voice said, close to her now.
She turned only to find a scruffy but handsome face about 6 inches above her own. His brown eyes were kind and she saw no threat in them. Racking her brain for any kind of recognition of who he was, Mel came up empty. Maybe he was new to the building.
"Hi," she said with a smile, "Where did you come from?" she asked and then mentally yelled at herself for how cheesy that sounded.
"Well originally I'm from West Virginia, then I moved to North Carolina, then I lived in Alaska for a while but just now I came from my new apartment at the end of the hall," he said with a smile. "I'm Paul."
"Wow! That's a very impressive resume. I'm Melissa, but you can call me Mel. Why all the moving?" she replied, grateful that he just went with it.
"I grew up in West Virginia and was stationed in North Carolina and Alaska while I was in the army," he said, sounding a little smug about it, probably knowing what a man in uniform does to girls. Little did he know, that didn't really do much for Mel. Her dad had been a fireman most of her life and she saw what it did to him. She never wanted to marry someone who had the kinds of issues her dad and his colleagues had developed from the high stress career. Military was even worse in Mel's mind. She was so proud of the men and no one would call her unpatriotic, but it was not something she wanted to be a part of any longer.
"Well that's impressive. When did you move here?"
"I moved to Evansville about 2 years ago and just moved into this building 3 weeks ago. I haven't been out and about much lately though. I work from home now, so I don't have much reason to leave the house most days," he said. "I'm just on my way out to grab something to eat. Would you be interested in going with me so I don't look like a loner alone in a restaurant?"
"Well, you're forward!" she exclaimed taken aback by his boldness.
"I'm sorry. I'm just trying to get to know my neighbors. If you're not okay with it I'll leave you to whatever you were headed out to do," he said with a touch of apology in his voice.
"I'm sorry. Actually dinner sounds great," she said, seizing the opportunity to get to know a guy in her building. Who knows when you might need a handy man around after all.
"Great! Where would you like to go?"
"Um, I don't care. You can choose," she replied.

Soon she was seated comfortably in a lush booth at McPhran's across from Paul and his chocolate brown eyes and lean, muscular body, all thought of The Collective gone. He was a kind and patient man, not even flinching when Mel sent the waiter away twice before finally settling on what she wanted to eat. They talked easily about family and friends and work. Turns out his job is to set up school visits for Army recruiters to speak to high school students about joining the military and other PR type avenues for the Army.
"Were you deployed while you were on active duty?" she asked, not being able to place why she was so curious about his past life as a killing machine for the country.
"Only once actually, to a small base in Turkey for a year. It wasn't too bad. Mostly just patrolled like a police officer would and monitored terrorist activity in the area. Nothing too exciting," he said, judging by her facial expressions that he hadn't lost "cool points" in her eyes. "So what do you do for fun?"
"I like to run, and I actually just started going to this woman's group through my church. But it's not really a church thing, technically. It's hard to  explain. It's called The Collective and really we just hang out and talk and eat," she said, knowing that she was on the verge of babbling on and on out of discomfort. And her discomfort only deepened when Paul suddenly sat back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest, avoiding eye contact. "Is everything okay?" she asked concerned.
"Oh, yeah I'm fine. I just know someone who used to go to that. She doesn't really like me too much."
"Who is it?" I ask trying not to seem too interested in his answer. If curiosity killed the cat, I'm glad I'm not a cat because I would be beyond dead right now.
"I would rather not say if that's okay with you. I am trying to distance myself from the whole thing and move on," he said, still avoiding Mel's interested gaze.
"Yeah no problem. Consider it dropped," she said, trying to make him feel more comfortable again. Instinctively, she reached across the table toward him, resting her hand a few inches above his silverware still wrapped in a napkin. "Hey, what else do you want to talk about?" she asked, trying desperately to salvage the conversation she felt like she had a hand in destroying. Suddenly he sat forward and put his hand on top of hers. Mel was so startled she should have pulled her hand away, but something kept her hand glued to the table, warm under his large hand.
"There's something different about you from other girls I know," he said, his eyes locked on hers making it impossible for her to look away.
"How so?"
"I don't know exactly. Most girls would be hounding me trying to figure out who of their friends I know and how I know her and trying every way they know to get more information out of me. But you just except it and move on," he said.
"I mean, don't get me wrong I want to know, but I know there are things in my past that I wouldn't want to talk about so I wouldn't do the same thing to others. I'm not really anything impressive," she said, trying hard to pull her eyes away from his in vain. His hand is still pressing hers lightly into the table.