15. Willa
The stack of materials I needed take home loomed on the right corner of my desk. Had the pile gotten bigger since the last time I’d glanced at it? The pages of sheet music, both filled in and scored lines in need of notes and measures must be breeding like bunnies. Cramming it all into my bag was going to be tricky.
I’d gotten brave enough to join Bluebikes, a bicycle share program that told me where to find available bikes nearby, and had been riding to and from campus, as well as the grocery store. So far, I’d only fallen once, and it’d been the crack in the sidewalk’s fault. Unfortunately, one of the handlebars had caught in the pocket of the pale pink pants I’d spent way too much money on in the name of looking professional. It ripped the twill fabric that’d honestly been too warm for not-quite fall weather and launched me into a tree I’d ended up literally hugging to prevent myself from going down.
I’d considered giving up but was determined to see it through, and not just so I could prove Eric and his naysaying wrong. I owed it to my mom as much as myself to make this second chance count. She’d given up so much for me through the years, which was why I’d left my more reliable car with her after her hip surgery. Every time I talked to her, she suggested we exchange back, not because she didn’t enjoy driving my nicer sedan, but because she worried about her old beater dying on me.
Honestly, it’d concerned me as well, but she was the one in recovery. Biking was good for me, and I’d become a pro, no matter how much trial and error it took. Like, with this morning, when I’d put on my cute skirt, only realizing as I straddled the bike I’d picked up blocks from the duplex that it was going to be trick to pedal without flashing the entire city the frilly panties I’d put on in hopes a certain someone might see them later.
Probably a foolish hope, considering Nate had gone MIA after the night we’d had sex. I was trying not to read much into it. Especially since the few occasions I heard movement above me, it’d been hours after I’d eaten dinner, put on pajamas and removed my makeup, and settled in for the duration.
Not that I was paying super close attention or anything, but the lights in his portion of the duplex had also been dark more often than not. A fact I knew due to the nightly walks I took to better get acquainted with the neighborhood. The fresh, river-scented air helped me think. I’d hum melodies to myself, stopping to type notes in my phone app when one hit me as a keeper.
Okay, so on more than one occasion, I’d circled the block a few extra times in hopes of facilitating an accidently-on-purpose run-in.
“It’s for the best,” I said to my empty office, not appreciating the way it echoed it back at me with a hint of doubt. This week had been a hectic whirlwind, my new job challenging and rewarding in the best of ways. I was finally doing what I loved, and as I wasn’t ready for a full-blown relationship—or anything else that’d get in the way of my dreams, for that matter.
And yet, I played one of the last things Nate had said to me on a hedonistic loop. If there’s to be any sort of bondage, it’ll be with me, and you’ll be the one secured and under my command. Got it?”
That was just Nate being his usual bossy, dirty-talking, sex-god self. Anyway, I assumed. It definitely merited a thorough investigation, and since I was aching for round two, I’d totally volunteer as tribute.
My cell phone rang, scattering my concerns over whether there’d be a repeat performance. Talk about a standing O.
I snorted at my own joke, going so far as to imagine standing up to applaud the orgasm Nate had given me so that he’d deliver another. Then I saw the name flashing across my phone screen and rushed to answer. “It finally happened,” I blurted out, the words coming as strong and fast as the release I’d experienced with Nate the other night. “Twice, actually.”
“It was the rabbit, wasn’t it? I told you, it’s a miracle worker—hits the clit and the G-spot at the same time.”
“While it was nice, I struggled to get there with it.”
“Nice.” I could hear the sour nose-crinkled in Leah’s voice. A voice I’d missed while we’d been playing phone tag this week. I wanted to tell her about my roaring success in the getting off department, but it didn’t seem like a voicemail type conversation, and being able to hear her reactions and picture them proved I was right.
“No matter what I tried, I just couldn’t get there. I was sure that it meant I needed more emotional input, but then… well, long story short, it was my sexy neighbor.”
“Shut up. The one you ran into the first night? The guy who saw the contents of the self-care package I sent you?”
“One and the same. I don’t understand what he’s doing having sex with me, because he’s way out of my league, but?—”
“We talked about this. You have to stop doing that. You’re beautiful and funny and smart and amazing, just the way you are. And clearly your hot neighbor agrees.”
Leah and I had spoken about it at length—my run-in with Nate the first night, yes, but I meant my tendency to put myself down before anyone else could do the same, and how much hell my ex’s infidelity had wreaked on my ego. “He’s seriously got, like, muscles for days, Leah. And he knows how to use them.”
“And you’ve got curves for days. Remember how I’ve asked to borrow your boobs on more than one occasion?”
I glanced down at the girls. Thanks to finding a brand of bras that fit me perfectly, supportive without too much padding or hoisting them up beneath my chin, I’d grown to appreciate them. It was the butt, the gut, and the cellulite on my thighs I struggled to embrace.
“Eric’s always cared more about his image than most, and he put those insecurities on you,” Leah said. “Don’t let him.”
Easier said than done, but she was right, and I was working on it. The truth was, when I’d met Eric, I’d been at my lowest weight. Because I’d been so poor, busy, and stressed while completing the last year of my master’s program and working my part-time job, I’d rarely eaten.
While he’d conveyed his unhappiness over my not weighing the same now as I did when we got married, I never wanted to return to that ragged, unhealthy version of myself. It didn’t make me happy, and it wasn’t worth it. “Thanks for the reminder it’s okay to be the real me. If it wasn’t for you, my self-esteem would’ve shriveled into a gross raisin a long time ago.”
“Not the raisin discussion again. They’re good in oatmeal cookies.”
“No, chocolate chips are good, and you didn’t warn me what I was biting into until it was too late,” I said with a laugh. Turning to rest my butt against the desk, I smiled at the memories Leah and I had made in that tiny community center that forever smelled like the inside of a spice cupboard. “If it hadn’t been for you, I’m not sure I would’ve survived Sugar River as long as I did.”
“I’m not sure that’s a positive thing. I’ve wanted you to kick Eric to the curb for a while—stupid jerk never did appreciate you enough. Oh, and get this. He is struggling to keep up without you. He’s had to hire three people to fill the position you did alone. I miss you, but you carried that man and that business for far too long.”
Victory stirred but didn’t fully take hold. As easy as it’d be to cast Eric as the sole villain in the blame game, I was the one who’d accepted his treatment of me. Not that I—or anyone else, for that matter—deserved to be admonished for having feelings and requiring effort.
You just take a lot more work than you used to. That was the answer I’d received when I couldn’t get there in the bedroom, or after telling him I missed live music and suggesting we head into the city for a concert.
In answer to that last request, he’d taken me to the local restaurant where several townspeople stopped by to say hello, and one person asked for a free dental consultation over dinner—so romantic. I’d had a moment of clarity as he was paying more attention to a possible cavity than he’d paid to me all night: the man who’d showered me with affection while we were dating was gone, along with the guy who promised me I could follow my dreams after his practice was up and running.
As mad as I was at him over how things played out, I was equally as mad at myself for letting him chip away at me for so long—for acting as peacemaker in favor of fighting for what I wanted, and for waiting until he cheated on me to get out.
Never again.
“The real you is a total catch, and like I told you dozens of times, you deserve effort,” Leah continued. “You remember that. I’d be happy to come lecture this Nate guy about it too.”
“While I appreciate it, Nate and I are keeping things casual. I don’t want to jump into another relationship. His bed, on the other hand…”
We laughed, and Leah said, “Yeah, I’m going to need you to tell me more, and don’t skimp on the details. The fact that I’m happily married means I’ve been having sex with the same guy for ten years. We’re all for any inspiration that’ll help us spice things up in the bedroom.”
I’d always admired that about Leah and her husband. They kept working at their marriage. When I was ready for a relationship, I wanted one like theirs. One that involved compromising and making time for each other, while pouring so much love and affection back and forth that it spilled over and made everyone around them feel whole.
After Leah and I exchanged goodbyes, I answered a few emails and then began to gather up everything I needed to take home over the weekend.
Earlier, the halls had been bustling, with voices and movement and a flurry of energy. But just like when I’d been attending college here instead of instructing, Friday nights had a way of amplifying all traces of loneliness. It was one of the reasons that, back in the day, I’d committed most of mine to performing at a local bar. What could be better than guaranteed plans that included singing, dancing, drinking, and meeting people?
Back then, nothing. Right now… Nate’s image flashed to mind. I relived how tenderly he’d treated my wounds to how primitively he’d taken me in the bedroom and experienced a whorl of desire and a pang of rejection.
If it was as good for him as it was for me, wouldn’t he have come knocking again by now?
The rap of knuckles sounded against my open door, and I looked up. For a beat or two, I merely gaped, sure I’d conjured the man with disheveled dark hair, devastatingly brown eyes, and scruff that accentuated the pouty lips he used to conquer and destroy.
“Hey, neighbor.” His deep voice immediately infused me with joy. “Long time, no see.”
“Nate. Hi.” Was it normal to be jealous of clothing? Because his navy suit, pale blue shirt, and tie clung to him in the same way I longed to do. Shyness set in at the same time reality did. This man had seen me naked. He’d been buried deep inside of me; he knew what I sounded like when I came around the big cock barely hinted at behind the confines of his navy slacks. I swept my hair behind my ear and cleared my throat, doing my best to play it cool, despite it never in the history of ever working for me. “This is a surprise.”
“A pleasant one, I presume.”
“You would,” I teased, his cocky words chasing away my bashfulness for the bolder version of myself that came out to play whenever this fine specimen of a man was around. The quirk at the corner of his mouth turned me into a giddy fangirl, one that didn’t dare move, lest she tackled him to the ground and licked his face like an overly excited golden retriever. I couldn’t even promise there wouldn’t be leg-humping.
“Well, I did take certain measures to ensure it would be one.” With a flourish, he brought the arm partially hidden by the doorway forward, revealing a bouquet of purple roses. Butterflies swarmed my belly. “Congrats on your first week, Professor Trainor. Work’s been extra busy lately, but I snuck out early today so I could hunt you down on campus and ask you how it went.”
My hand trembled slightly as I reached for the extended bouquet. Nate didn’t release his hold, though. “Purple. For the color you were wearing the other night.” The suggestive smile that spread across his face conveyed he was replaying all the tawdry things we’d done together.
My cheeks heated, the memory of his hands gliding across the satin nightie, and then beneath it, causing a wave of desire that crested and crashed with the current moment. He remembered details like the color of my nightie; he’d brought me flowers. It’d been a long time since I’d felt so noticed.
I lifted the roses to my nose and sniffed, sighing at the floral deliciousness. “Thank you. As for the job, it’s seriously a dream come true. I get to do what I want again, and the students are so talented. I’ve almost pinched myself a dozen times to make sure it’s real.”
Nate lifted his hands in front of him. “Hey, now. I know that trick. You keep the pinching to yourself.”
“Hands to myself. Message received,” I said, and he arched an eyebrow. As hard as I tried to hold it back, my smile broke free, spreading over my face at the same speed warmth tumbled through me.
“There are other ways of checking to see if what you’re experiencing is real, you know.” He cupped my cheek. “Touches that are better than pinches.” He placed his thumb on the center of my lower lip and depressed the softness there, his eyes dilatating as my breath whooshed out of me in a rush.
Since two could play at that game, I bit his thumb, relishing the astonished unhinging of his jaw. “Looks like it’s real.”
“Yeah, it’s real, all right. Now, give it a little suck.”
I complied, wrapping my mouth around his thumb, all the way to his second knuckle and then slowly pulling back and releasing it with a loud pop.
A low grumble vibrated through his throat, like the warning of thunder before the onslaught of a storm. “I skipped lunch and I’m starving, so first, I’m taking you out for dinner, and then afterward…” He grazed the tip of his nose across my cheek and sank his teeth into the outer shell of my ear, a bite for a bite. “I’m going to take you home for dessert. And trust me, you’re going to want dessert.”
And now my panties were wet, and my heart was jackhammering away in its cage, upset it couldn’t throw itself at his feet. Not that he was asking, but I still said, “Okay.”
He took my bag from my shoulder, gripping it in his fist so he wasn’t wearing it, but he also didn’t seem to care it was obviously a women’s tote. Then he placed his hand on my back and catapulted me down the hallway, as though he was as eager to get on with our night as I was.
But when we passed the library and I caught sight of the large building ahead, an idea hit me, my excitement veering my train of thoughts to another track. “The performance center almost always has an event going on, but it’s actually empty tonight.” I reached down and took hold of Nate’s hand. “Come on. Before we leave campus, there’s something I have to show you.”