16.
Leo
Saturday morning and I was lying in bed, thinking about Tessa and how I’d like our next interaction to shape up. Seeing her out with her mother at the café the other day had been unexpected, but in a good way. And Christ, if her mother didn’t need to get laid, like, yesterday. She wasn’t bad looking, Tessa’s mother, still in shape, not a ton of makeup, dressed nicely. Tessa hadn’t said much about her parents, other than they were going to cut her off if she didn’t get her grades up, but I had the sneaking suspicion that the sex part of their relationship had flown the coop long ago.
I could tell that it was nice outside, even though the blinds were drawn. Also, that it was later than I usually slept in—the bedside clock said it was 10 o’clock. I stretched and kicked back the sheets and imagined what it would be like to wake up here with Tessa next to me. If she did stay over, I’d get up before her and go down on her to wake her up; partially because I’d hope she’d return the favor—pretty much every guy’s perfect dream—but mostly because I wanted to.
However, she wasn’t here right now, and I didn’t have plans to see her today, though maybe later tonight we could get together.
I was just coming out of the bathroom, having taken a satisfying leak and splashing cold water on my face, when there was a knock at the door. I paused before going over to open it; people seldom just knocked at the door—usually, they rang the bell downstairs and had to be buzzed up.
I looked through the peephole, thinking that I would immediately postpone any errands/household chores I had to do for the day if it was Tessa. It wasn’t, though; it was the opposite of Tessa: it was Colette.
I sighed and pulled the door open.
“Hi,” she said. “Someone was leaving when I got here, so I just came up. Did I wake you?”
“No, I’ve been up for a little bit.”
“Good. Can I . . . can I come in for a second?”
I raised an eyebrow but stepped back, holding the door for her. She slipped in, looking around, and I couldn’t decide if it was because it had been a while since she’d last been here or she was looking for traces of another woman.
“What’s up, Colette?” I said.
She went into the living room, walked in a circle in front of the coffee table, and then faced me. I couldn’t read the expression on her face; maybe she was about to start laughing, or maybe she was going to burst into tears. Or perhaps she was just about to sneeze. “Do you need a tissue?” I asked.
“What?” she said. “Why?”
“I don’t know—you look like you’re about to sneeze. So. What do I owe the pleasure of this unannounced visit this morning?” I folded my arms across my chest and leaned against the wall. If she was looking for me to invite her to sit down next to each other on the couch, that wasn’t going to happen.
“I heard some troubling news about you, Leo,” she finally said. “Not just idle gossip. I’m worried about you.”
I stifled an exasperated smile. Oh, this was going to be good. “Worried about me? Why? Everything is fine.”
She looked truly disturbed though, by whatever it was she had heard about me.
“It doesn’t sound like it,” she said. “And this doesn’t have anything to do with me wanting to give our relationship a second chance. I don’t think it’s healthy, what you’re doing.”
“What exactly is it that I’m doing?”
“You don’t have to pretend like you have no idea what I’m talking about, okay? We’re beyond that, Leo. Whether or not we’re together, I always want to be someone that you feel like you can talk to, that you can be honest with. So what’s going on? Why are you . . .” her voice lowered, “sleeping with one of your students?”
I did my best to keep my face impassive. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said.
She shook her head. “Please don’t lie to me.”
Neither of us said anything; we were at an impasse. As we stood there looking at each other, I tried to figure out what would be the best way to get out of this situation, as quickly as possible. How had she found out? The only way she could’ve known was from Jack. Unless she had bugged me or something, and I wouldn’t necessarily put that past her. So I could stand here and deny it, and we could go back and forth about it for the next 17 hours, or I could let her think that her concern actually meant something and that I would try to amend my ways.
“Fine,” I said. “You’ve found me out. It’s only one student; it’s not like I’m banging the whole class or anything.”
She winced as I said that last part, as though I’d reached out and hit her.
“Leo,” she said, her voice heavy with disappointment. “Why? Why are you doing this? Do you know how much trouble you could get in? Beyond that, it’s just . . . wrong. I know you’re a better person than that. You’re taking advantage of your authority. I can’t believe that you would do something like this. You’ve got to stop.”
“I don’t see how this is any of your business, actually. I also don’t recall inviting you over here to give me your opinion about ethics and morality.”
“I’m here because I care about you, and I don’t want to see something bad happen. Is that so crazy?”
“Who told you this titillating bit of information?”
She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Actually, it does. Though I already know who it was, anyway.”
“You do?”
“Of course. It was Jack.”
Colette had no ability of a poker face whatsoever, so I knew the second I said his name and saw her expression that it had indeed been Jack.
“He’s just concerned,” she said finally. “We’re both worried about you.”
“I know. You’ve said it about a thousand times already. And you know what, Colette? You’re entitled to that. You’re allowed to be worried all you want—I’m not going to stand here and try to tell you how you should feel about something. But you don’t get to tell me what I am or am not allowed to do either.”
She sighed heavily. “Fine, Leo,” she said. “But when the shit hits the fan with this, don’t come to me wondering why no one tried to stop you. I’ll see myself out.”
She left, slamming the door behind her, which was a rather un-Colette like sort of gesture. She’d probably envisioned the way this whole encounter would go—she’d confront me about Tessa, I’d confess that I was only doing it because I missed the touch of a woman so much—her touch, specifically—and she’d come over and gather me up in her arms and tell me that everything was going to be all right. Unfortunately for her, that was not the way it was going to go down.
After Colette left, I got dressed and went over to Jack’s. I was trying to keep my anger in check, but it was difficult because I couldn’t stand when people meddled in shit that wasn’t any of their business. Especially when it was under the guise of concern.
I didn’t need to call first or find out where he’d be; he’d be in his little apartment, grading papers, answering students’ emails. Weekends for Jack weren’t so much about getting a respite from work; it was just a continuation.
No one was leaving his building when I got there, though, so I rang the outdoor buzzer, and when the intercom came on, I told him to let me in.
“Leo? Oh, hey, sure,” he said, his voice static-y. When the door unlocked, I let myself in, and then walked across the lobby to his ground-floor apartment.
He answered in his bathrobe, hair disheveled, the smell of strong coffee permeating the air.
“I just made some coffee,” he said as I walked in. “Want a cup?”
I did, actually, since I hadn’t made any before I left, but this wasn’t a social call. I’d stop and get a cup at the coffee truck a few blocks over after I left.
“No, I’m good,” I said. “There’s actually a reason for my visit today.”
“Oh?” He shuffled back into the living room, where his coffee table was covered with folders and stacks of papers and different colored highlighters. “I was just trying to get through this mountain of paperwork I’ve got to grade.”
“You should really get yourself a teaching assistant.”
“I’ve considered it.”
“Anyway, that’s not why I’m here, to talk about the merits of having a teaching assistant.”
Jack smiled. “I wouldn’t think so.”
“Well, I had a surprise visit from Colette today,” I said. “She wanted to talk about the fact that she was so concerned for my well-being. Apparently, you are, too.”
Jack didn’t say anything for a moment, but he at least had the self-respect to not bother denying it.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have betrayed your trust like that. The last thing I want is to see something bad happen to someone because of it. But I saw Colette a couple nights ago, and we got talking, and . . . it just sort of came out.”
“Right,” I said dryly. “And how exactly does something like that just sort of come up? Call me crazy, but I can’t really think of a natural way to work that into a conversation.”
“I don’t remember the exact line of conversation, to be perfectly honest. But we were talking about you. She still feels very strongly about you, Leo.”
“That has nothing to do with anything. You shouldn’t have told her that. I only shared that information with you because I assumed you’d keep it to yourself. Clearly, I was wrong.”
“I haven’t gone and told anyone else,” Jack said. “You’re making me sound like some sort of gossip. Which I’m not. This is coming from concerned friends who don’t want to see you end up getting in a shitload of trouble. That’s what friends do for each other, you know. They watch out for each other. And if they see that their friend is doing something that could potentially get them into a lot of trouble, they don’t just stand back and say nothing.”
“All right,” I said. “Fair enough. You’ve both expressed your concern now. I hear it loud and clear. But what I don’t think the two of you are getting is that I am actually enjoying my life again. I am looking forward to getting up each morning. I’m not thinking about how fucking monotonous everything has gotten, how each day is the same. Because it’s not. Is it the most orthodox thing to be doing? No, but maybe that’s just not my style. And there’s nothing wrong with that. Tessa is 21. She’s not some 15-year-old high schooler who’s confused and trying to resolve her daddy issues. If Tessa wasn’t my student, I don’t think either of you would have anything to say about it. Well, Colette might,” I said, reconsidering.
“I’m happy to hear that life suddenly has new meaning,” Jack said, and I couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not. “I didn’t realize that you were so miserable before. But I think there are other ways that you could go about trying to absolve your misery. You used to have a lot of interests in things, you know. Sports. New places. And then after you got fired from the magazine, you just seemed to forget about all of that. It sort of seems like you gave up.”
“I didn’t give up. Yeah, I might’ve fallen into a little bit of a rut. But I got canned from a job I really loved! I think that’s a perfectly normal response.”
“Yeah, and why did you get canned?”
I knew exactly where he was going with this, and I wasn’t going to play that game. He wanted me to say I got canned because I’d stuck my dick somewhere it didn’t belong, and here I was, doing it again.
“If I want your opinion, or your psychological analysis, I will ask for it,” I said. “And if I don’t ask for it, I would truly appreciate it if you would keep those thoughts to yourself.”
“Okay,” he said. “But . . . I’m just going to tell you this: I saw her.”
“Who?”
“Tessa. And she was talking with that Nick kid; I think he’s in one of your classes. And . . . I don’t know, it just seemed like there was something more there going on between them.”
“Like what?” I tried to keep my voice as neutral as possible. “They had a relationship before, but it ended. The same way my relationship with Colette ended. Why do people have such a hard time getting over these things?”
“You’ve clearly never been in love with someone just to have them break up with you.”
“What did you see?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Nothing that out of the ordinary. It’s not like they were all over each other or anything like that, but it seemed like they were being . . . friendly. And you know, what if this is just some sort of game for her? What if it’s—”
“She’s allowed to talk to other guys. I’m not going to turn into some controlling, jealous asshole, if that’s what you’re trying to incite here.”
“I’m not trying to incite anything; I’m just trying to get you to see that there’s probably someone better for you out there, and someone better for her, too.”
“Well, while we’re on the subject, how many people have you told about this?”
“Just Colette.”
“Really.”
“Yes!” he said. He looked at me closely. “Why? Does someone else know?”
“Apparently, yes. Someone sent a letter to Tessa, telling her that she needed to write a paper or else they were going to come forward about what we were doing. So unless it was you—or Colette—someone else seems to have found out.”
I could tell from the horrified expression on Jack’s face that it hadn’t been him, which I kind of knew anyway.
“Shit,” he said. “That is not good. What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to try to figure out who the fuck it is and then probably kick their ass.”
“Leo, what you need to do is stop this, right now. If you stop it now, the fallout might not be so bad. What kind of evidence could this person have? You weren’t stupid enough to be doing anything with her right out in public, right?”
“No,” I said, though I couldn’t quite remember.
“Does Kristin know?”
“Kristin? As in my teaching assistant, Kristin?”
“Yes—does she know?”
“I don’t think so. Why? You think it was her?”
Jack shrugged. “In the realm of possibilities, I wouldn’t totally count her out. You’re probably completely oblivious to it, but I’ve seen how she looks at you.”
“And how is that?”
“Well . . . like someone who might take issue with the fact that you’re having this sort of relationship with a student.”
“Then I’ll confront her about it.”
“But what if it’s not her? Then you’ve just let someone else in on something you’re trying to keep quiet.”
“What the hell do you want me to do, then? You’re the one who’s running your mouth about it!”
“You should stop, Leo! That’s what you should do. You cannot stand there and tell me that you think this is going to have a good ending. The only way this ends well is if you put a stop to it now.”
I shook my head. “I’m not doing that.”
Jack looked at me sadly. “Then I don’t know what to tell you,” he said.
“Seeing as I didn’t come over here for your advice, that’s perfectly fine. But I’ll give you a little tip: stay out of my goddamn business. I don’t give a shit if you want to hang out with Colette—fuck her, for all I care—but don’t talk to her about me. Okay? Great, thanks.”
I stalked out of his apartment, slamming the door behind me.
17.
Tessa
I had to take a break.
It was Sunday afternoon, and I’d been working all morning, fueled by coffee and a bagel from across the street. But my eyes were starting to hurt from looking the computer screen, and my neck had a crick in it, and my ass felt like it was as flat as a pancake because I’d been sitting for so long.
I stood up and stretched, then went over and called Leo.
“I was just thinking about you,” he said when he picked up. “How’s it going?”
“It’s all right,” I said. “I’ve been writing papers all morning. I think my brain’s about to explode.”
“Sounds like you need some stress relief.”
“Yeah, that wouldn’t hurt.”
“Where are you?”
“At my apartment.”
“Want me to come by?”
“Sure,” I said. I told him my address.
“Great, give me like 15 minutes.”
After I got off the phone, I quickly went through and tidied up a little. I brushed my teeth, combed out my hair, and put on a different, cuter T-shirt.
The doorbell rang a few minutes later, and I buzzed him in.
“Hey,” I said. “Thanks for coming by. We can go out if you want; we don’t have to stay here.”
“Here is fine,” he said. “I’ve never seen your place before. It’s cute,” he said as he stepped inside.
“Thanks,” I said. “While I wish I could take credit for the décor and everything, that was mostly my mom. I don’t really have that much sense when it comes to decorating.”
“So this is what was on the line?”
I looked at him. “What do you mean?”
“You said that you needed to get your GPA back up because your parents were going to cut you off. Which was why you needed the extra credit. So I assume that part of being cut off would mean saying goodbye to this little place?”
“Something like that.” I didn’t want to admit to him that my parents were footing the bill for everything, but he basically knew anyway. “It’s not because I want to maintain my status as a spoiled brat,” I said. “I really do want to get my GPA back up because I’ve always done well in school and I don’t want to start failing now. But yeah—they pay for mostly everything, and I think that it would be really challenging to get a job on top of school work and everything.”
He smiled. “Should I pay you?”
I whacked him on the shoulder. “You’re not paying me!” I said. “Talk about making me feel like a whore.”
The thing was, I was starting to like Leo, as more than just some hot guy, as more than this person I was conducting some illicit affair with. I liked him as a person; I liked getting to hang out with him, I loved that he took me out to that restaurant in Fairfax, I just really enjoyed his company. The sex part was awesome, too, but I realized that I didn’t want it to stop once the semester was over.
He stepped over to me and put his hands on either side of my face. He held his palms there, tilting my head back a little so he could look right into my eyes. “I don’t think you’re a whore,” he said, his face completely serious. “And I want you to know that.”
“I know you don’t.”
We made our way over to the couch and sat down. He pulled my shirt off, I pulled his off, and he ran his hands over my breasts as I kissed his neck.
“I’d give you an A now anyway,” he said, his breath warm on my hair. “Even if you decided to stop doing work for the rest of the semester . . . I don’t think you’re leaving me much choice.”
I kissed a trail from his torso down his toned abdomen. I unbuttoned his pants and he lifted his ass and slid them off. I took his cock in my hand and squeezed it lightly, then slowly brought my mouth down, encircling the head with my tongue. Leo groaned and ran his hands through my hair. I didn’t know what it was about him that made me feel so bold; with Nick, I had been shy, more reserved, a little uncertain about whether or not what I was doing was making him feel good or not. But with Leo, it was a totally different story.
“Yeah,” he said in a low voice, his groaning getting louder. I relaxed my throat and took him into my mouth as far as I could, moving my mouth back and forth like I was shaking my head no, the head of his cock pressing against the back of my throat.
And then, I thought that I heard something, but I wasn’t sure because Leo was breathing hard, and I was so focused on what I was doing to him, that my mouth was capable of making him feel so good. I didn’t even care if he came in my mouth—in fact, part of me wanted him to, and I’d swallow all of it, every last drop. My jaw was aching, but in a good way, and my mouth slid easily around him, even as he got bigger, as his cock throbbed against the back of my throat. His hands twisted in my hair, and it hurt a little, but it was a good hurt, the sort of pain that just accentuated how good I felt. And I felt even better when he reached around with his other hand, first stroking my ass, slapping it a little, then sliding a finger into me. I tilted my ass a little higher into the air, a warm, pleasurable sensation threading its way up my spine. I groaned, and then he groaned.
“I’m about to come,” he said. “So if you want me to come in your mouth, keep doing what you’re doing—if not, stop immediately and I’ll fuck the living daylights out of you—”
“Oh my God!”
The sound of my mother’s voice was like getting doused with a bucket of ice water. I jumped up, realizing as I was doing so that I was completely naked, and that Leo’s erection would be on full display. My mother stood there in the entryway to the living room, gaping.
“What is going on?” she shrieked. But then she recognized Leo, and she shrieked again. “Wait a minute! I know you! You’re Tessa’s teacher!” Her gaze went to me, eyes blazing. “Tessa—what the hell do you think you’re doing?!”
She didn’t run out of the room like I expected she would; she just stood there, gaping, as I reached for the little lap blanket that was thrown across the back of the couch. Leo had grabbed a handful of his clothing and was holding it over his crotch, a cloudy expression still in his eyes, though I could tell he was trying not to smile.
I tried to arrange the blanket so it was covering me up, but it was too small; if I wanted to cover the top half, the bottom half was exposed; if I tried to cover the lower half, my breasts were right there for her to see. Leo solved this by handing me my shirt, which I got tangled up in as I hurriedly tried to put it back on.
“Now that you’re halfway decent,” my mother said, “would you like to tell me what the hell is going on?”
I opened my mouth to say something, but no words came out. How could I possibly explain this? She’d come in and seen everything. There was no way I’d be able to talk my way out of this one.