Claire

It had been a week since I fell asleep on Aiken’s chest. He’d given me space for two days, and then he was back at it: cooking dinner, pouring wine, and acting like he really liked doing all of the above. He told me about the website he’d been working on and the farmers loving the final product. Currently, he was working on a website for an online craft store. I’d handed him the cliff notes on my class and teaching hours.

The night before, he’d come over with a cigar in one hand and a tumbler of whiskey in the other. We’d sat on the steps to my back porch, side-by-side, knees knocking, sharing the whiskey—our mouths taking turns, covering the lip of the tumbler in the same spot—and staring at the stars.

“This is pretty sensual,” I admitted.

“Oh, really? Do tell?” He took a puff of his cigar, blowing the smoke out in rings.

“It feels intimate, sharing a glass of liquor. I know, it’s silly. Don’t laugh.”

“Richards, if this is what you consider sensual, brace yourself. Actually, consider this foreplay…”

I squeezed his knee, stopping him before he went all graphic on me.

“Dinner tomorrow. Out. I’m thinking you should wear something slinky, show off those legs of yours. Pick you up at seven. Time for us to take this show on the road. We can share a drink, seeing what it does to you.”

He didn’t give me a moment to answer. On a wink, he patted Smitty’s head, mumbling, “Good boy,” and went home.

Now, as I prepped for my class, all I could think about was that damn wink and what it meant.

Christ, I knew what it meant.

I was a grown woman, like he’d said.

But what did it mean in the whole scope of things?

Would it be a one-time thing? Taking the show on the road?

Like a I dated a teacher, slept with an older woman, bragging rights deal?

Or more?

“Hi, Professor Richards.” Abbie interrupted my imagination running wild as I set my stuff on the dais.

I smiled to myself as a quick vision of Where the Wild Things Are crossed my mind. I’d read that book to Abby countless times as a toddler, her head propped on my shoulder as she took in the crazy beasts running across the pages.

“Hi, Abbie, how are you?” I wanted to savor my memories longer, but my overeager student was standing in front of me, obviously wanting something, arms dangling in front of her.

“I’m great. Well, actually, I have a favor to ask of you. Do you have a minute, or should I come to office hours?”

I knew Abbie with an ie was going to be trouble. Must be something about the name—

She didn’t wait for my answer. “I’m registering for next semester, and I really, really want to take your research class.”

“Go on.”

“I haven’t taken second-level statistics yet, and it’s a requirement.”

“It is a requirement for a good reason. We use those stats to tabulate many of our conclusions.”

“Look, I took AP stats in high school, and I placed out of first level. I promise I can handle it. Anything I don’t know, I will teach to myself on the side. Anyway…” She grabbed a slip from her backpack. “They said if you sign this, they’d make an exception and let me into your class.”

She stared at me with big blue-green eyes, the world ahead of her, more than likely including a career, a husband, and a family down the line. I shoved aside the thought that my Abby would never have those things and said, “Okay, but if you can’t hack it, you have to drop the class.” I wanted to get back to my happy memories, stat. It had been so long since I’d peacefully looked back on the past and made myself smile.

“I swear. I swear on my life.”

“Okay, I’ll sign.” I needed her to stop with all the swearing on her life. Didn’t she know what an awful threat that was? It wasn’t a viable bargaining chip—

“Dr. McCullough said you would say I’d have to drop it, but I’m ready.”

Of course, Mary was behind this. I’d mentioned Abbie at the pool party, and she’d acted disinterested, but I knew better. She was a German shepherd with a bone. Every now and again, I wished she’d act less interested in my life. I was surprised she hadn’t asked me to video my first encounter in the sheets with Aiken.

Am I really thinking about that?

With my student mere feet in front of me?

I scribbled my name on the line, trying to shut down my overactive brain. Abbie repeated her thanks and how she wouldn’t disappoint me.

“Okay, enough. Go grab a seat. We have a fascinating talk on why people get married. Procreation versus companionship. I have my opinions, of course. I’m sure you do too.”

“Both, of course.” She copied my emphatic words.

A long moan and an even longer sigh escaped my mouth as I lowered my feet into the pedicure tub, Kindle resting precariously on my lap, the chair vibrating against my back.

“Heaven, right? Don’t I know it.” Mary’s voice rang in my ears.

Turning to the left, I found my friend slipping into the vibrating pedi chair next to me, a devilish smirk across her ruby-red lips. “Imagine my shock and surprise seeing you sneak in here without telling me. We always go for pedis together. Usually because I’m the one dragging you like we’re going to the dentist. Are you cheating on me, Claire?”

“Never.”

“Liar.”

I slipped my Kindle into my bag, knowing there would be zero chance of reading, tied my hair back into a messy knot at the nape of my neck, and prepped for a talking-to from Mary.

“Now, speak.”

The two nail techs in front of us, wearing matching pink hospital-like scrubs, looked up at the same time.

“Sorry.” Mary at least acknowledged her ridiculously rude behavior.

I hoisted my right foot up so Mei could take off my old polish, while Mary ignored every request of her attendant.

“Okay, spill,” she whispered to me.

“I’m going on a night out.”

“You mean a date with neighbor boy toy?”

“If you want me to actually go through with it, that kind of talk isn’t helping. I’m teetering on backing out.”

She leaned back and howled. “Come on, Claire, if we can’t laugh, we’ll pass out from the seriousness. He’s hot and nice. Well, way more than nice. Fine, fine, fine. Aiken, I mean—in case you were confused.”

“He asked me to dinner.”

“When were you going to tell me? What’re you wearing?” She leaned closer. “Did you book a wax? They don’t do a good job here. There’s always a few strays, if you know what I mean, and you do not want that. Go to the place down the street.”

“I think you’re getting a bit ahead of yourself, Mar. Plus, he’s already seen me totally naked.”

“What?” Water sloshed out of her foot basin at her sudden jerking movement.

“Shhh, it’s not what you think. I fell, and he helped me into the bath.”

“I may be your boss, but I’m also your closest friend. When were you going to tell me this?”

“Because I was afraid of this. You telling me to wax my vagina.” I whispered the last part. “Besides, I shave.”

“It’s not as smooth,” she rebutted.

Leaning close, trying to avoid an audience, I leaned in to speak. “Honestly, I’m terrified of it getting that far, worried that it won’t. I don’t know what I want.”

“I would never steer you wrong. I hated you in the fifth grade because you had boobs. We double-dated for prom, I was in your wedding to David, and I was there when he walked out on you for the floozy—”

“With no boobs, mind you…yeah, yeah, I know.”

She nabbed her phone and started texting someone. I was fairly confident it was the place down the street.

“You’re a woman, and he’s a man. You need a wax. There’s no reason for you to be terrified. It’s going there.”

“I didn’t say that. I said I was terrified of the date.”

“Semantics.” She waved her hand in the air and went back to her phone. “Oh good, they’re writing back.”

“He said the same thing.”

“What? They’re writing back?” Her brow furrowed, and her perfectly shaped eyebrow lifted.

“No. What you said before. I’m a grown woman, and he’s a grown man.”

“Exactly! Which is why it’s perfect…they can take you right when you leave here. Time to blow the dust off the shelves, but first you got to get rid of the hairballs. Know what I mean?”

“I’m taking my Kindle back out.”

Mary only cackled and went on interrupting me. “What color are you getting?”

“What about this nude color?” I held up a bottle of polish.

“Ugh, no, no, no. You need a tiny bit of color. What about this?” She held up a bubblegum-pink shade.

“Too bright and cheery for me.”

“This?” Like a kid in a candy store, she picked up and discarded bottles of polish from the rolling cart between our chairs. Then she held up a chalky-lilac bottle.

“I sort of like that. I’ll do it.”

“Great.” Mary rubbed her hands together in a sinister way I could only interpret as being very bad for me.

A few hours later, I blinked at myself in the mirror, fake eyelashes grazing my lower lids, and shook my head. Who the hell talked me into this?

Mary, of course, when she walked me down the street to the waxing place and started orchestrating services beyond my wildest dreams. I was lucky I escaped with a landing strip and faux eyelashes. If it were up to her, I’d be bald—and I don’t mean on top of my head (but you probably knew that).

Now, I looked like a two-bit hussy in an LBD and heels, with fire-engine-red lips (courtesy of Mary’s personal stash).

I needed to change, but the doorbell rang, and Smitty started barking something fierce.

“Shit,” I mumbled. “Here’s to nothing, Smit.”

Opening the front door, I tried to school my face, but I was damn confident my age, worry, and general inexperience showed in every crinkle and wrinkle.

A loud whistle met my ears as I brought my gaze to meet Aiken’s eyes. Blue greeted my dark. “Hey there, pretty lady. Wow! You look stunning…you ready to relax? Unwind? Have a good time?”

At one word—unwind—I felt my whole face settle and my shoulders relax. How did he do that?

The man had magical words or powers. Or maybe I’d been out of the dating game, or life in general, for too long?

My head nodded while my mouth spewed, “I wasn’t, but now I am.”

“Good. We need to let Smitty do his thing?”

“Um, yeah. It’ll take one sec.”

“No rush, I’ll even do the honors. Come on, boy.” He whistled again, this time to my dog, and my faithful friend fell in line right behind him.

I snatched my clutch and scowled at my stupid fake eyelashes one more time, then waited by the door. In pranced Smitty, followed by Aiken on his back paws.

“Hey.” He pulled me close to him, his front to my middle. “You look so fucking fantastic, you’re making it hard to treat you right, take you to dinner first, Richards.”

Half tempted to say, Then don’t, I pressed my lips to his scruff, smiling to myself that he’d left it behind. I hated a freshly shaven man. His lips met with the top of my head as he inhaled me.

“Come on.” He broke free and guided me to the door.

“Where are we going?”

“One town over, there’s an old Victorian mansion converted to a farm-to-table place. Even this farm boy knows fine dining when I find it.”

With the door to his truck open, he helped me up and ran around the front to the driver’s side. Thankfully, it was enough time for a reassuring breath.

I could’ve used ten more.