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As was there refusal to contemplate any other outcome without copious test results.

As he was snagged by another vague acquaintance, this one trying to sell him ad space on the Little League fence, Greg couldn't help but let his eyes wander about the room, telling himself he was looking for someone more fun to talk to. Of course, inevitably, he just ended up finding Mallory. She stood in roughly the same place as before, with the same high school friends plus a couple of others, one of which he recognized, vaguely, as a former patient. He was pleased to see that the kid had benefitted from the acne prescription and now had clear unscarred skin. As this guy- Ben Wellmore Greg seemed to remember-continued to sing the economic benefits of Little League stadium advertising, the doctor allowed himself some brief-and perfectly harmless, he assured himself-scanning of Mallory, from head to toe.

As usual, her legs looked great, enhanced even further by the heels. As he watched, she crossed one in front of the other, rubbing her calf against the shin of the other leg. It was nothing at all, an unconscious moment caused by an itch perhaps, but Greg found it oddly tantalizing. He continued upward, noting how the skirt hugged her hips, hypothesizing that it no doubt swoosh nicely back and forth were she to strut or turn around quickly, leaving him to wonder what sort of underwear would be exposed to a keen eye if she did so. Whatever she was wearing beneath the skirt, he hypothesized, would highlight her ass quite nicely should she offer a glimpse. His eyes lingered on her thin sweater as he realized her breasts were almost certainly bare beneath. Her nipples pushed against the fabric, making two undeniable points of interest sure to catch the eye of all the people in the room with even a passing interest in the female form. He glanced about to confirm his suspicions and sure enough, he caught at least three other men and one woman "casually" and repeatedly letting their stare settle on Mallory's chest. He struggled with who to be more disgusted with: them or himself.
Self recrimination or not, though, he found himself inevitably looking back at Mallory, drinking in the sight of her small breasts subtly rising and falling as she laughed at a friend's comment. His look lingered too long though and as he turned it upwards, he locked on the babysitter's shiny green eyes. Although the college students were clearly all in conversation, she made no eye contact with them. Instead, she held her gaze fast on Greg and bit her lip ever so slightly and suggestively. Just enough so he could notice. He quickly dismissed Wellmore with a "Yes, fine. Just email me the details," and ducked into the kitchen, unable to prevent his cheeks from growing a deep pink.

Cursing to himself, he walked down the back hallway to further his escape. He felt like he was 13 again and Hilari Sevor had just looked up and caught him staring at her. The only difference was that time he didn't run out of the room to hide.

"I'm a grown man," he mumbled to himself, "Gotta get control here."

Mallory stood waiting for Greg to pop back out of the kitchen. She was sure he'd be back out in a moment, he obviously was very appreciative of her appearance. He would have to return for a second look. Probably just refreshing his drink, she told herself.

Five minutes later, however, the teen was no longer buying that particular explanation. Trying to keep the annoyance out of her voice, she excused herself from the conversation with her friends. Moving slowly but purposefully, she weaved in and out of the partygoers, keeping an eye out for Greg in the various conversational circles and semi-circles that had popped all over the bottom floor of her parents' home. Reaching the kitchen she found that the doctor was nowhere to be seen.

"Time to get to higher ground," she thought upon concluding that this method of finding her prey simply would not do.

She settled on the view from the ra

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