Under My Skin

Seven

Knock. Knock. Knock.

What fresh Hell is this?

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Sun seeped through weathered curtains. I threw my doona over my head, employing the logic if they can't see me I disappear.

Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.

The plovers screeched at the oncoming traffic. It never ceases to surprise me that although they persistently chooses to create a nest in the middle of the road, they go aggro when cars keep running over their eggs. What's the definition of idiocy again?

They tell tourists to be weary of crocodiles, snakes and spiders. It's sound advice. What they don't tell you is that our avian fauna loves to swoop you with their poisonous wing barbs, and are the more common threat of the land. Australia at its finest.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

"Alright!" I karate kicked the blanket off and dragged myself to the front door. "Holy mother of Jeebus."

Before I opened up, I pulled the wedgie that had accumulated over the few precious hours of sleep I'd gotten. Not that Mr Mailman was going to see my behind anyway.

I opened the door and Eric tumbled in, suit sharply pressed and hair slicked back. Vogue anyone?

He slammed the door, eyes widened. "Fucking birds."

I'm a stunned mullet. Mr Eric Sexypants stood in the middle of my shoebox living room, looking completely out of place beside my goodwill lounge. The three seater had started out orange, I think.

To be honest, I felt like the human equivalent in my pink boylegs and worn camisole.

I'm sure I look like a hobo clown right now.

But he didn't seem to notice my freeze in function as his black wingtip cut through the air. "Its a crazy jungle out there!" His fingers frantically fiddled with his burgundy tie. Then his attention turned to me, his intense stare focusing on me. "Why didn't you save me, fair maiden?"

The tremors begun, vibrating my fingertips.
"I'm uh—" I tried to pull my already stretched out cami to cover my tree-trunk legs. "I'm a, sorry." The shirt was practically unwearable after the stretching I subjected it to. I also had to be careful that my nips didn't peel over the top. "Wasn't really expecting you this morning. Ha."

He looks down at my chunky thighs, lingering before slowly making eye contact with me.

I better get him a sick bag.

He gulped. "I'm sorry. I should've warned you."

"I've got to go for a shower." I turned, hoping that he'd not look at my postcode for an arse. "What time is it?"

I looked back, and the guy just gawked.

Let's face it, I'm no show pony. But I ain't no sideshow attraction either. "Didn't your mother ever tell you it's rude to stare?"

"S,sorry." He adjusted his pants, then ran a hand through his hair. "Just admiring the view."

Oh. Well in that case ...

Stretching my arms to the heavens, my cami rode up to the middle of my back.

"Don't," he said.

"Sorry." I turned around, eyes cast down.

Eric walked to me, lifting my chin. "I'm painfully hard right now."

I can't help but look down. Could you blame me? I was a little bit more than pleased to find that he was most certainly in proportion for his almost 2 metres in height. The man is packing heat.