Rachel
“He has the most amazing ass.”
Well, that’s what I intended to say, but what actually came out of my mouth was, “He has lemony lass.”
Luckily, Ava had joined me in my binge, so my slur sounded perfectly fine to her.
“Who are we talking about? Davis or the professor.”
I sighed. “The professor. Davis’s is nice, but I never had the urge to bite it.”
Ava quirked a brow. “You want to bite the pompous professor’s ass?”
“I do. Is that strange?”
She smirked and lifted her drink to her lips. “Not at all. Well, the biting part isn’t strange. I like a little biting during sex myself, but biting his ass when you’re not sleeping with him might be a little strange. Especially if you do it during a class while he’s lecturing.”
“He’s just so frustrating. So infuriating.”
“So maybe you should give Davis another chance?”
I sucked back the remaining contents of my third drink and held the empty glass up, dangling it between my thumb and pointer. “Time for a refill, waitress.”
Ava laughed. “I was done an hour ago…but I’ll get your refill because I’m not sure you could make it the ten feet to the bar.” She stood and took the glass from my hand. “You’re cut off after this one, though.”
While Ava was behind the bar, I dug my phone out of my purse. I had no idea why, but I wanted to scroll through Davis’s Facebook account. I remembered he’d posted a few pictures with the same woman a few months back, and I wondered if he’d dated her since things ended with us.
When my phone illuminated, I was surprised to find I’d missed two texts from Caine.
Caine: Could you possibly cover my afternoon class tomorrow at three?
A few minutes later, another text came in.
Caine: Sorry about the last-minute notice. Something important came up.
What a jerk.
Of course, he wasn’t really a jerk. He was just not interested in me the same way I was him and didn’t want to lead me on, so that made him a jerk in my drunken, emotional head. I should have turned off my phone and ignored him, responded to my boss when I was in the right frame of mind, but the alcohol had other ideas. I typed back.
Rachel: Sure. I’ll do your job so you and Professor Pink can go back to your office and do whatever it is you do…again.
I watched the dots start to jump around, then stop, then start again.
Caine: What are you talking about?
I rolled my eyes.
Rachel: Your ass isn’t that great anyway.
In that moment, the text made complete sense to me.
Caine typed back immediately.
Caine: Excuse me?
I snorted. Loud. What a jerk. And then, my texting went downhill.
Rachel: I bet she doesn’t come late.
I was holding my phone, but I’d been expecting a text, so I jumped in my seat and dropped it on the table when the damn thing started to ring. Caine’s name was flashing, and that just pissed me off even more.
I swiped to answer. “What?”
“Rachel?”
“That’s me, your lowly TA.”
Something dawned on me, and I thought it was a pretty clever pun. In fact, I was damn proud of myself for coming up with something so witty.
“I’m your lowly TA, who has great T&A, only you’re too full of yourself to notice.”
“Have you been drinking?”
“Have you?”
“No, Rachel, I haven’t been drinking.”
“Well, you don’t know what you’re missing. Because after the first one, everything that’s been jumbled in your brain becomes so clear.”
Ava returned with our drinks to find me on the phone. “Who are you talking to?”
I did a half-assed job of covering the receiver. “It’s Professor Tight Buns.”
Ava’s eyes flared wide and then she shut them briefly. When she reopened them, she took the phone from my hand.
“Hi, Professor Tight…umm…Professor West. This is Rachel’s friend, Ava.”
She paused to listen.
“Yes. She’s fine. I’ll take care of her.”
Another pause.
“Yes, I’m sure. We’re at O’Leary’s, and I’ll take her home in a cab and make sure she gets inside safely.”
After she swiped to end the call, she put the phone in her purse. “I’m keeping this so you don’t do anything else stupid.”
“What? All I did was answer the phone. It’s not my fault he’s a big, fat jerk.”
“Please tell me you didn’t call him that.”
“I don’t remember.”
Ava let me ramble on for another forty minutes as I sipped my drink. Either I’d grown accustomed to the foul-tasting liquor, or the last Tanqueray and tonic tasted more like tonic than Tanqueray. Since I was still able to speak, I was guessing it was the latter. Ava had watered down my drink.
“So what are you going to do about Davis?”
“I don’t know. He’s a great guy. He really is.”
Ava’s eyes turned to saucers.
“What? Don’t look so shocked. He’s a nice guy. And God knows I haven’t had sex in forever.”
“Oh no. Professor West.”
“Well, obviously I’d rather have sex with him. But maybe that’s all it is. Maybe I’m just really sexually frustrated, and my attraction to Caine is only physical.”
“No, Rachel. Professor West.” She motioned to the other side of the bar. “He came for you.”
Unfortunately, I was lost in my little alcohol-marinated brain and not paying attention. I hadn’t even realized she was actually pointing to something…or someone. In fact, I thought we were still having the same conversation.
“He’d better come for me. It may have been almost a year, but I think I still know how to use my vagina.” I paused. “Do you think my vagina is re-virginized from not having sex for so long?”
I brought my drink to my lips and closed my eyes as I tipped my head back to finish it. When I opened them, I thought I was dreaming. In fact, I was certain of it. I blinked a few times to snap myself out of it.
Caine did that stupid sexy lip twitch thing as he stood next to our table. “Still here.”
Ava was a traitor. Caine asked her if he could have a few minutes alone with me, and I’d said no at the same exact time she said yes. She’d shot me a warning look before promptly slipping from our table to make room for Caine.
“What are you doing here?” I scowled.
“Making sure I’m the only man you talk to about coming while you’re in this intoxicated state.”
I folded my arms across my chest. “Davis wants me.”
The muscle in Caine’s jaw ticked. “That’s nice. Who’s Davis?”
“My ex. Well…sort of. We had dinner tonight. He wants me back.”
“So that’s what this is about?”
“Well, it’s not about you,” I lied.
“Really? He sat back with an arrogant smirk. “Because it sounded on the phone like it was about me. Well, about Professor Tight Buns anyway.”
There was at least one good thing about alcohol; it kept me from flushing when I should have been embarrassed. In fact, it kept me from even realizing I should have been embarrassed.
“So what? You have a tight ass. That doesn’t make you the be-all and end-all. I have a pretty nice ass myself. Only you’re too much of a jackass to notice it.”
Caine rubbed at his lip with his thumb. “Is that what you think?”
“That you’re a jackass? Yes.”
He leaned forward. “I meant you think I haven’t noticed your pretty nice ass.”
His voice had grown husky, and I felt the guttural sound of it between my legs. I swallowed and shifted in my seat, staring at him. He took it as license to continue speaking when I kept quiet.
“You have a tiny little waist. When you wear jeans, there’s a gap in the back. When you lean over, I can see your G-string. You like to match it with your shirt. Wednesday you wore a blue shirt and had on a baby blue G-string. The day you taught class and were giving out headphones, you bent over nicely to distribute them to each row. It’s why I got up to help you with the boxes. You didn’t think I was being chivalrous, did you? That day, you had on a thin white blouse and a lacy white thong. I really liked the white lace.”
My mouth was hanging open.
Caine leaned in a little closer. “So you’re wrong if you think I haven’t noticed your pretty nice ass. For two reasons: First, it’s not a pretty nice ass. It’s a fucking spectacular ass. And second, I’ve noticed it. Every damn day since you walked out of that bar bathroom. In fact, I watched it sway from side to side until you were out of sight that night—even though you’d just told me off.”
“I had no idea.”
“Clearly.”
“Why didn’t you say something?”
“What should I have said, Rachel? You’re my teaching assistant, and I’m your thesis advisor. Plus, even if that weren’t the case, I actually like you. You’re not a casual fuck I’d stop calling when I was done with you.”
That was harsh. I didn’t want to think of Caine in that way. But then I remembered the faculty meeting. “Like Professor Pink?”
His brows drew together. “You mean Ginger Ashby? Professor Ashby who was wearing a pink suit today? What about her?”
“You two seemed cozy.”
Caine looked away. “We’re not sleeping together, if that’s what you’re asking.”
If they weren’t currently sleeping together, I knew they had a history. I could tell by the way she touched him, the way she looked up and batted her fake eyelashes.
“But you did sleep with her?”
“It was a long time ago. I don’t make the same mistake twice.”
I wasn’t sure if he was referring to the professor specifically or sleeping with someone at work, in general—not that it mattered.
Ava came back to the table to check on me. “Everything okay, Rach?”
My smile was sad. “Everything’s fine.”
She put my phone on the table. “Your phone was ringing.” Ava looked at Caine. “I put it in my purse so she wouldn’t regret something she said to you. Guess that worked well.” Caine smiled, and she turned her attention back to me. “I’ll be at the bar if you need me.”
The moment Ava walked away, my phone began to ring. Davis’s name flashed on the screen. Caine saw it and looked up at me. “You need to get that?”
It stopped ringing, but when I scrolled, I saw Davis had texted, too. He wanted to make sure I got home safe.
“I’ll just send him a quick text to let him know I’m okay.”
I felt Caine’s eyes on me as I typed.
When I was done, he said, “You want to talk about it?”
I wanted to see if I could get a rise out of the composed professor. “We used to have sex. Then we stopped. Now he wants to start again. Oh, and he wants to take me to dinner, too.”
The clench in Caine’s jaw was clear. “And how do you feel about that?”
“I don’t know. I’m confused, I guess.”
“About what?”
“He’s a great guy. When we broke up, I was upset at first. But then I sort of got over it. At least I think I did. I didn’t sit around and pine for him anyway. I feel like I would have if he was the right guy. You know?”
Caine looked into my eyes. “I think the right person would be difficult to move past, yes.”
“But maybe I haven’t actually moved past him yet. I haven’t…you know…since we broke up.”
“Had sex?”
“Yes.”
Caine’s eyes sparkled. “Hence the re-virginized vagina?”
Even in my drunken-ish state, I couldn’t believe I was having this conversation. “You heard that?”
He nodded with a sly grin. “How long ago did you split up?”
“Close to nine months.”
“So you haven’t had sex in almost nine months?”
I sighed. “Maybe I should just pick someone up in a bar and do it. Then it’ll be easier to decide if it’s Davis I miss or just the sex.”
The pupils in Caine’s eyes dilated to the point where there was more black than brown iris. “That’s not a good idea.”
“Why? You’ve never picked someone up and brought them home just to satisfy your needs?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Well, then why is it okay for you to do it, but not me?”
“Because I don’t do it to try to solve a problem.” His voice turned stern. “Fucking someone won’t help you decide if you want to be with another man. Trust me on that one, Rachel.”
“Sounds like you’re speaking from experience.”
Caine looked away. “I’m going to grab a beer. You want a soda?”
“I’ll have another Tanqueray and tonic.”
“I think you’ve had enough.”
I huffed. “Fine. I’ll take a Diet Coke.”
We sat around and talked for another hour after Caine returned with our drinks. I had sobered up some, but still felt more daring than usual.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Will it stop you if I say no?”
I smiled. “Probably not.”
“If you weren’t my professor...and I wasn’t looking for my Umberto…” I trailed off, but the rest of the sentence didn’t even need to be said.
Caine brought the beer he’d been nursing to his lips and stared at me over the top while he finished it off. He set the empty bottle on the table and cleared his throat before leaning in. Then he curled one finger, motioning for me to come closer. I leaned in, and our noses were no more than a few inches apart.
“If I weren’t your professor and you weren’t a nice girl, your re-virginized pussy would be sore as hell right now.”