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Beautiful Mistake by Vi Keeland (11)

Rachel

 

“Are you hungry?”

I’d debated asking the question in my head for the last five minutes. Even though I’d spent all day with Caine, I wasn’t ready for it to end. But I wanted my suggestion to have dinner to come off casual. He’d asked me to grab a bite to eat before, yet for some reason when it was me doing the asking, I felt like I was asking him out on a date.

Caine glanced over and then back to the road. He was quiet, and I got the feeling he was debating the appropriateness of our situation before answering. I was surprised when he said, “Starving. What did you have in mind?”

“I’m easy. There’s a Greek restaurant a few blocks from my place that’s good. Or there’s Chinese on Grand Street. Or we could go to O’Leary’s and then it’ll be my treat again.” I smirked at that last part.

“How about Greek, and my treat this time?”

“Sounds good. Take a left on Elwyn Street. It’s up on the right if we can find parking—Greek Delight.”

Inside the restaurant, the hostess sat us in a quiet booth in the back and brought us hummus and pita chips to snack on while we looked at the menu. I knew what I wanted, but Caine took out glasses from his pocket to read the menu. Those really worked on him, although I couldn’t help myself.

“How old are you that you need reading glasses?”

He looked up over the rim of his studious Burberry frames. “You wear glasses. Why does my needing reading glasses mean I’m old?”

“I have an astigmatism. I’ve needed them to read since I was in a training bra.”

Caine’s eyes dropped to my cleavage before returning to the menu. He grumbled something I didn’t catch. When I continued to stare at him, he took his glasses off and looked up at me. “What?”

“You didn’t answer my question. How old are you?”

“Old enough to be your professor.”

I dipped a piece of pita in the hummus and popped it in my mouth. “So, what? About sixty then?”

“I’m thirty-two, wiseass. Are you happy?”

I smiled. “I am, actually.”

Caine slipped his glasses back on and returned to the menu.

I leaned in. “You don’t look a day over thirty-one.”

He shook his head and continued reading, but I caught the corner of his lip twitch.

Why did I love that lip twitch? It felt like a little reward of some sort. I seriously needed my head examined when it came to this man.

After he seemed to have decided, he leaned back in the booth. “You’re doing a great job with your research.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s one hell of an interesting dynamic going on there.”

I remembered how awkward I’d felt sitting with the trio the first time. “I know. It was weird at the beginning, but I’ve gotten used to it now. Lydia is a pretty amazing person, isn’t she?”

“She is. Not sure I could do what she’s doing.”

“What do you mean?”

“Watch my wife sit there with another man and smile.”

“True love is selfless. She wants the best for him, even if that doesn’t include her anymore.”

The waitress brought our drinks and took our order. Caine had ordered a Greek beer, and I’d ordered my usual diet soda. I had to look away when his lips wrapped around the bottle. I was way too attracted to him to hide it very well.

“You sound like an expert on the subject. I take it you’ve been in love like that?” he asked.

“Not with a man.”

Caine’s brows jumped, and I realized what that must’ve sounded like—what he thought.

“I meant…I felt that way about my mother. Not that I’m a lesbian or anything. I like men. Not that I have anything against lesbians. I just prefer…you know…men when it comes to sex. Not that I have much of a sex life at the moment.” I was definitely babbling.

Caine chuckled. “You’re fucking adorable when you get embarrassed.”

I drank my cold soda to occupy my mouth and hopefully keep my skin from turning noticeably pink. “Anyway, when my mother was really sick, I wanted her to die so she wouldn’t be in pain anymore. I was going to be without a mother, but I didn’t care. I just wanted her to be at peace. That’s what Lydia and Umberto remind me of.” I set my glass down on the table. “How about you? Ever been in love like that?”

Caine shook his head. “Not sure I’m capable of selfless. Spent most of my life on the -ish side of self, rather than the -less.”

“No girlfriends?”

“Plenty of those. None that I wasn’t a selfish bastard with.”

I stared at him. “That’ll change when you meet the right woman.”

He brought the beer bottle to his lips. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m just destined for a life of selfish screwing. I could think of worse things.”

I couldn’t see Caine as selfish—he’d changed my tire after I told him off and interrupted his class. And I couldn’t imagine he wasn’t attentive in bed. He was so observant that it was often distracting, not to mention how intense he could be. Then there was the musician thing…skilled hands and good rhythm. No. There was no way Caine West was selfish in bed. Of that I was certain.

He squinted. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“What do you mean?”

“You got quiet after I said there were worse things in life than selfish screwing.”

And there was the observant thing again. He paid attention to women. Men who paid attention were good in bed.

“I was just thinking about what you said. You don’t seem selfish to me.”

“We’re not in that kind of a relationship.”

“Maybe.” I shrugged. “But you seem too attentive to be selfish in that way, too.”

A look of understanding crossed Caine’s handsome face, as if he’d just realized what I was thinking. He leaned in to me with a wicked grin that made my heart palpitate.

“I didn’t mean I was selfish in bed.” His eyes dropped to my neck and slowly rose to focus on my mouth—which parted for his gaze. “A woman’s needs always come before my own. And I enjoy every minute of taking care of those needs.” His eyes returned to mine, and he leaned in even closer. “She comes before me…multiple times.”

I swallowed. My whole body reacted, and Caine knew it. He leaned back with a cocky smile and a gleam in his eyes.

When I finally attempted to speak, my hoarse voice croaked. “Then what are you selfish about?”

“The stuff that comes after we get out of bed. The relationship part.”

“Oh.”

“Not everyone has the ability to be Lydia.”

“I’m not sure I agree. I think we all have the ability to be Lydia. It’s a choice not to try and find your Umberto. And usually there’s a reason for that choice.”

The muscle in Caine’s jaw ticked, but he stayed silent. Luckily our food came shortly after that. Caine had ordered a falafel, and I’d ordered a gyro. We dug in and gave our full attention to eating, for the moment.

In no time, my meal had turned into a big mess. The pita had torn, and half of my gyro was leaking out. I didn’t realize, but white tzatziki sauce had dripped down the back of my hand.

“You have some sauce…” Caine pointed.

Still holding the gyro, I turned my wrist to look. The sauce had trailed down my hand, past my wrist, and was making its way steadily down my arm, about to drip onto my shirt. If I put down the disaster of a gyro, there was no way I’d be able to pick it back up without it falling apart. So, I licked a line from my arm up over my wrist to my finger, cleaning the mess in one long stroke. Not very ladylike, but it was better than wearing it on my nice shirt.

When I looked up, Caine was staring at me. “Christ. Are you trying to get me fired?”

“What?”

His eyes moved back and forth between mine. “You really have no goddamn clue, do you?”

“I don’t understand.”

Caine looked down at his food, shaking his head. “Just finish eating. We should go.”

The ride back to my apartment was awkward. Neither of us said a word. Honestly, I had no idea what to say. I’d realized Caine’s comments had to mean he was turned on by my inadvertent lick show, but it was also a reminder that I needed to stop fantasizing about something that was never going to happen.

When we arrived at my apartment building, Caine double parked and turned off the ignition. “I’m going to walk you up.”

“You don’t have to do that. I’m fine.”

“I’m not leaving you at the curb.” He opened his door, effectively closing the discussion.

“Okay then,” I mumbled to myself.

The awkwardness continued as we rode the elevator up to my apartment. I fumbled for my keys in front of my door. “Thank you again for taking me on and coming with me today.”

“Of course. I’d do it for any student.”

Another reminder. One that hurt.

I unlocked the door and opened it. “Would you like to come in? I could make you some coffee or something?” I really wasn’t propositioning him to come in for the proverbial night cap. It just seemed like the polite thing to say.

Caine was quiet for a very long moment. “I think it’s best we don’t spend time together outside of class anymore. Your research is solid, and I think we have the semester schedule planned out well enough. If you need to discuss your thesis, the department secretary has access to my calendar and can set up an appointment.”

Maybe we had gotten a little too friendly, but… “Did I do something to upset you?”

“No.” He lifted his chin toward the inside of my apartment. “Lock up behind you.”

 

 

I took a quick shower, changed into an old concert T-shirt to sleep, and climbed into bed feeling confused and sad. My feelings for Caine had grown despite the fact that I knew it was stupid to fall for a man who had no interest in a relationship, even if he hadn’t been my professor. I tried to fall asleep, but it was no use.

Plucking my phone from the charger, I thought I might type my notes from today into an email to add to my research later. But when I powered my cell on, it opened to my last text from Davis. I’d completely forgotten to respond to his comment regarding me not texting that I missed him, too.

Even though the timing was off for us, Davis never gave me mixed signals. He didn’t play hot and cold. He owned up to his feelings and was honest with me. I sighed and texted back.

Rachel: I miss you, too.

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