Chapter Twenty-One
The day of the Faculty Ball
The thesis defense took two hours, which was longer than she’d been expecting. The reactions were amazing. Everyone on the panel had asked thoughtful, curious questions about her research, her assumptions, her methods. She had expected to feel interrogated, or worse, accused. Instead she’d stood in front of these professors, these experts and thought leaders, and felt like an equal.
It was heady and terrifying. Grades were in, and the panel would make their recommendation. She wouldn’t find out the results until later; however, she wasn’t worried about either. She had worked her ass off on both her paper for Blake’s class and her thesis. She knew in her bones that they were good.
Melinda caught up with her in the hallway. “Erin, can I speak with you a moment?”
Dread sank in her stomach. The woman had been very quiet during the defense. She had asked a few questions which were direct but not cruel. Erin had hoped that would be the end of it.
Taking a fortifying breath, she turned to face the other woman.
Melinda grimaced slightly, as if she knew about Erin’s discomfort—and felt bad about it. “You were great in there. I’m serious. You handled yourself well. You were on point. And your work was stronger than a number of doctoral papers I’ve seen.”
“Oh, thank you,” she said cautiously, waiting for the shoe to drop. Waiting for the “but…” that would bring it all crashing down.
Melinda sighed, leading her through the doors into a small courtyard. “I need to apologize for the things I said the other day. It wasn’t right, and I knew it, but…” A small laugh. “I guess, of all people, you would understand what I lost. Who I lost. I wasn’t thinking straight.”
Erin ducked her head. “I thought you were the one who left him.”
“Yes,” she admitted. “I’m not proud of that. But he wasn’t like this before. He was withdrawn and angry, and I wasn’t sure he’d ever go back to the way he was. His scars were part of it, but you and I both know they go deeper than that.”
Erin pursed her lips. She wasn’t about to perform a psychological analysis on Blake, especially with Melinda as her partner.
“Can I go now?”
Melinda laughed softly. “I can’t fault you for that. If he had to end up with someone else, at least it’s someone who truly cares about him. Well, I won’t keep you. I just wanted to apologize and tell you that I won’t be a problem from now on, between you and him.”
Erin weighed the sincerity of her words and found she believed them. Still, she wasn’t inclined to be generous with the memory of her humiliation still strong. The woman had basically accused her of being a prostitute. “I accept your apology, but just so you know…you couldn’t have caused a problem between me and him. Not anymore.”
Glossy lips twisted into a wry smile. “You’re probably right about that. He’s loyal.”
And he’s mine.
The force of the words shocked her. At least she managed not to say them out loud, as she made her escape from Melinda. But privately, her confidence in him, her possession surged impossibly strong. He was hers. Hers to love. Hers to keep.
She burned with desire to see him right now, to kiss and make love to him until the world outside faded to black. However, he had the Faculty Ball tonight. She could survive a single night without him, couldn’t she? It would be a near thing. They’d be together again tomorrow. They’d have forever together tomorrow.
At her apartment, she found Courtney packing. The room had disappeared between a mountain of clothes. A huge piece of luggage sat open and empty. From the haggard look on Courtney’s face, things had not been going well.
Erin paused at the door. “What happened?”
“What happened is that Derek and I are going on a trip.” She frowned, examining a pair of puffy pants. “And I have nothing to wear.”
“Where is he taking you, the tundra?”
“Close. Colorado. We’re going to do some late skiing. He’s booked a suite in a lodge. Isn’t that the sweetest gesture?”
“But you hate the cold.”
“Yes, he must have forgotten that.”
“And aren’t you afraid of heights?”
“Right. I should be okay if I stick to the bunny slopes, right?”
Erin had no idea. Skiing had certainly never been part of her family vacations, which had mostly consisted of her mom and her at the beach for a weekend. She suspected even a baby slope would be big enough to terrify the girl who shut her eyes when they crossed over a bridge.
“Will you hate me if I say this is a bad idea?”
“No. Because you’re right, and it is a bad idea.”
“But you’re doing it anyway.”
“I love that you get me. I mean, really understand me. You’re a great friend.”
“Hmm,” Erin said, wondering where this was going.
“Like the kind of friend who would help me pack and figure out what to bring.”
Erin stared dubiously at the mountains of clothes. Tank tops, miniskirts. They had their work cut out for them, but it was just the distraction she needed. The thought of Melinda all dressed up at the Faculty Ball with Blake was enough to get her blood racing. She believed what she had said to Melinda. There was no way Blake would stray. However, if he happened to glance over and wonder briefly about what he had lost, he would only be human.
“You’re on,” she said, digging in. She ended up pulling everything out of her closet, as well, matching outfits so she could look cute for their renewed relationship, as well as warm enough not to freeze to death.
Hours passed, and Erin lost herself in the chatter with her good friend. She would miss this when she moved in with Blake. Except she hadn’t agreed to that.
So when Courtney asked her about re-upping the lease, Erin said quickly, “I’m not moving in with him,” and immediately blushed. As soon as she said the words, she knew they were a lie.
Courtney raised her eyebrows. “Want to bet?”
She knew the truth. Even Blake probably knew it was inevitable. Everyone except Erin understood. She’d put him off. Not now, later. We’ll talk about it later.
Now was later, and God, she wanted to be with him. Night and day. Forever and ever, amen. This must be serious, he’d joked. With the worry of school behind her, she was damned serious.
“Okay, I might move in with him. And maybe even…I don’t know, marry him. Does that sound crazy?”
“Of course you’re going to marry him. See, when you find a boy who you like, and who you want to have sex with, you have to do the right thing by him. Otherwise he starts to wonder if you’re just using him for his body.”
Erin snorted. Blake loved when she used him for his body. But that was a good idea. Maybe she could pop the question. It would be worth it just to see the look on his face. Not right now, but soon. Maybe then she wouldn’t feel so guilty about not answering him right away about moving in.
She helped Courtney stuff the luggage full and then sat on it so they could zipper it shut. They loaded her friend’s car together and hugged before she got inside.
Courtney frowned. “Sorry to abandon you so soon after your defense. I meant to take you out for drinks to celebrate.”
“I don’t mind, sweetie. You have fun. And bring back lots of stories.”
“Always. And I’m still taking you out for drinks when I get back. We’ll get a cab together and get totally wasted.”
The sadness clamped Erin’s stomach as she waved goodbye, and she realized that at least part of her hesitancy was leaving Courtney. She’d been an amazing friend. They would still be friends, but the roommate bond ran deeper. They talked all the time. They knew each other’s secrets. Now it would be her and Blake. Yes, she wanted that, but she would still miss her friend.
Her cellphone trilled from inside the apartment. She almost sprinted to answer it. Her mother hadn’t returned a call in days now, and Erin was beyond worried. The number on the screen wasn’t her mother’s. Disappointment tightened her stomach.
“Hello?”
“Hello, is this Erin Raider?”
The officiousness of the tone drew her to full alert. “Yes, that’s me.”
The woman proceeded to introduce herself as the head nurse of the urgent care ward at Lakota County General Hospital. A wave of dizziness swept over Erin, but she gripped the phone tightly and held on.
The nurse’s voice was sympathetic. “I’m calling to inform you that your mother was admitted into our care after suffering a major heart attack.”
Fear gripped her. A heart attack? Her mother was an older woman, but she was strong and healthy. Or she had been. Oh God. The world lost focus as she took in the rest of the information. Her mother was alive and in recovery. She was sleeping now and most of the time, a side effect of the medicines she was on. Yes, Erin would be able to visit her mother if she arrived before visiting hours were over.
Erin’s thoughts came wild and unordered, matching the state of her room. Her clothes were strewn across the floor and bed. She grabbed a few tops and a pair of jeans and stuffed them into her backpack. In a sort of trance, she walked to her car and slipped her key into the ignition.
Nothing happened.
She took out her key and tried again. The engine turned over and then stalled. Her old, trusty rustbucket had finally given out and at the worst possible time. She tried three more times, but the car had well and truly given up.
Feeling sick, she struggled to focus. The most important thing was to get to her mother. She could deal with the repairs later. But how could she get there? The drive was four hours away. The one time she’d had to take the transit bus from her city to the college, after Doug had left her, the trip had taken twice that long from all the stops in between.
Her mind spun, running through all the options she had and coming up empty. She didn’t mind being alone, not really, but times like now, it did hurt. Except she wasn’t alone.
Blake.
He would know the answer. He’d asked her to find him if she needed him, and she did.
She suddenly couldn’t wait to be near him, to lean on his strength and feel his embrace. Any attempt to shield herself had been in vain. She was already his, under his domain and beholden—and it was exactly where she wanted to be. It had nothing to do with where her body resided. In times of fear and worry, her heart turned to him.
* * *
Blake took a swig of his cocktail. The sweet syrup clung to his tongue and the liquor burned his throat, but drinking still beat mingling. He’d already had to tell the story of his scars twice, and he wasn’t eager to tell it a third time.
He gave a scrubbed version, of course. The real thing wasn’t fit for the string quartet or the gowns of the Faculty Ball, though that fact didn’t deter them from asking. His scars were so interesting, they said, as if it were the best compliment—and to a group of strident intellectuals, perhaps it was. They took his refusals as modesty first and rudeness second, until he’d resignedly told some whitewashed account of what had happened.
“There you are.” The slurred words came from behind him. Jeremy Mosely, the dean of his department and his boss for the semester, approached unsteadily.
Blake wished he could stand the signature cocktail well enough to get drunk. “Jeremy. Good seeing you.”
He grinned. “Hah, I know you’ve been avoiding me.”
Even sloshed, the man was smart. “Sorry. I’ve been a little distracted.”
“Not too distracted. I heard your semester went great.” He looked smug. “I know you’re thinking about renewing your contract. I’ll give you a few days to think about it before I do the hard sell on you.”
Damn, the man was right again. He had been considering it…once he and Erin were settled. Once she moved in with him. If she moved in with him. He took another drink, wincing at the sickly sweet flavor.
“Disgusting, I know,” Jeremy continued. “I have a secret stash, if you’re up for it.”
“I was thinking of heading out soon.”
It was ten o’clock. Not exactly late, but he wanted to get to bed at a reasonable time and see Erin in the morning. He had a full suite of activities planned for her that would require most of the hours in the day and most of the surfaces in his house.
“No, come on. The night’s still young.”
“Maybe, but I’m not.”
“Please, you’re the youngest guy in the room. A couple of guys were going to the faculty basement. Bet you never heard about that when you were a student here.”
Curiosity nudged him. “Okay, what’s the faculty basement? And if you tell me whips and chains, I’m definitely not going with you.”
Jeremy snorted. “Well, it’s going to sound boring compared to that. It’s a recreation room for professors. Sort of a members only type of thing. There’s nice furniture, good liquor, and a pool table that’s been here since the university’s inception.”
“Huh.” This he did want to see. He’d always had a soft spot for the school, ever since he was a wide-eyed freshman. It amused him to realize there were new things to discover in a place he’d been for so many years. Blake eyed the room, catching a few curious glances his way as he did. “Let’s go.”
They rounded up a couple of tenured professors that Blake had met before and headed two buildings over and downstairs into the basement. He had promised Erin, and himself, that he would try to rejoin society. That meant more than clocking in and out of a job, whatever it was. It meant the rare social occasion like this. He looked forward to the time Erin would join him at parties like this. If he was going to sneak out of the party early and into some dimly lit recess, he’d far rather be doing it with her.
Inside the faculty basement, there were thick leather armchairs that made him feel like wearing a smoking jacket. The other guys started up a game on the green felt pool table in the corner, but Jeremy came to sit by him. There was something he wanted to talk about, but Blake could be patient. He accepted the offered glass of whiskey and a cigar.
Jeremy settled in opposite him and was quiet for a moment. “I heard you and Melinda Jenkins used to be an item,” he said.
Blake raised his eyebrows. “What of it?”
“Just wondering if there’s anything still between you two.”
Christ. First his goddamn battle scars had to be story time for the group, now he’d been lured by alcohol to talk about his past lovelorn humiliation. Being back in society was a laugh a minute.
“No. It’s over. Very much so.”
“Good to hear it.”
Blake raised his eyebrows. “Why, is there some sort of policy against intradepartmental dating?”
Jeremy laughed shortly. “I hope not. I was thinking of asking her out.”
“Oh.” Well, that put a new spin on their shared nightcap.
A sideways glance. “So, what do you think?”
“About you and Melinda? I think nothing about that. Whatsoever.”
“You must think something. You think she’s too hot for me?”
“The thought hadn’t crossed my mind.” At least he could be honest about that.
“Well, come on. Give me something here. I was just about to make a move when I found out about you two. When I realized I might have invited my biggest competition inside. I heard she talked to you, too.”
Hmm. He trusted Melinda’s word not to spill about him and Erin, but it would be best not to stir this pot too strongly.
He pretended to think about it. And then he actually did think about it. Mosely was a smart guy, and he seemed ambitious enough. Melinda could help support him. Blake was no matchmaker, but it wasn’t a bad setup.
He shrugged. “What the hell do I know?”
“Thanks, man. Real encouraging.”
A surprised laugh burst from him. He supposed he really had been out of the loop for too long. He’d forgotten how to be a friend.
“Shit. Sorry.” He leaned forward, staring into his drink. The sight of amber-colored liquid reminded him of his morning with Erin a few weeks ago, and God, what a morning that had been. He couldn’t wait to repeat it. Preferably every morning from now on.
Forever. The thought should have scared him, being a standard fare red-blooded male. But the thought of not forever, of losing her, was the real threat. He would make it official and ask her to marry him, but he might scare her away. Asking her to move in had already been a big step, and she hadn’t said yes yet. She was still young. He felt vaguely guilty tying her down. Just not guilty enough to stop.
Besides, he knew better than anyone that putting a ring on her finger wouldn’t guarantee anything. It hadn’t with Melinda. All he and Erin had to offer each other was one day at a time. For the first time, he thought it might be enough.
“You should ask her out,” he finally said. “Even if it doesn’t work out, at least you’ll have given it a chance. It’s better than not living.”
The other man studied him. “That sounds like the voice of experience.”
“It is, and you were one of the people who helped bring me back. I owe you for that.”
Jeremy clapped him on the shoulder. “Then come to work for me. A permanent position. The board will approve it in a heartbeat.”
Ah, it seemed they’d arrived at the hard sell portion of the evening. What the hell, he’d known what his answer would be. Teaching was too damn fun. So was living, he had found.
He took a swig of the expensive liquor. It went down smooth. “Then I accept.”