13. 13
13
Dexter
A fter I leave Tilly, I get a couple of hours of sleep before I’m on a private plane on the way to see Nick in Cincinnati.
I focus my attention on him, not the woman I left sleeping last night.
What did Tilly think when she woke up and found I’d left? Would she call? Will I ever see her again?
Nick, I remind myself as we enter the hospital.
My friend’s wrist is broken and needs surgery. He’s obviously in pain, and tries to rally some of his good humour when he sees us, but there’s a bitter anger underneath it all. The season is over for him, and depending how he recovers, the injury might possibly end his career.
I hope not. The mysteries of the English language have always been it for me, but for Nick, it’s baseball. He loves the sport more than anything.
I really hope he can come back from this.
We made it to the hospital first thing, visited with Nick until he was tired and his comebacks became more snaps than jests. We left him to have a nap, went for lunch, and brought something back for him. And then we flew home.
Private planes are a first for me, but it’s a nice way to travel.
“He’ll be okay,” Cady says on the flight home. She’s been Max’s girlfriend for almost six months and I’ve never seen my friend happier. It might also be the fact that he quit his job working for his father and now calls Cady his boss, as well as the love of his life.
She’s a billionaire who owns clubs and a cool resort in Muskoka, among other things. She can hire anyone she wants. They work well together.
“I don’t know,” Max frets.
“He’s pretty bleak,” I add, meeting Max’s worried eyes.
“Because he’s an athlete who’s been benched,” Cady says, flipping open her laptop. “The team will make sure he has the best surgeon to fix it, and if they don’t, I will.”
“Aw, you’re the best, babe.” Max leans over and kisses her.
Seeing them together like this makes me think of Tilly—again. Which is totally crazy because there is no way one night should have me thinking sweet thoughts about her.
I don’t even know her.
Tilly could be a homicidal maniac who has fake pictures of fake children, and I could be lucky I survived with my life, let alone my penis intact.
Casual hookups aren’t really my thing. Even the students I’ve gotten involved with lead to some sort of relationship. I’ve had one-night stands—I like women and sex too much to rule them out completely—but I prefer commitment. Stability.
My parents divorced when I was six, so I spent my childhood being passed around from parent to parent, grandparent to grandparent. When my parents started the process of getting remarried, it was even worse. My father is on his third marriage, while my mother has two under her belt, with a long-term boyfriend. Tim. He’s a good guy, but his parents are fantastic and by far my favourite house to visit on the holidays.
It’s no wonder I want to find my forever girl.
But Tilly? She’s more woman than girl. And it was only one night.
Just one night. I probably won’t ever hear from her again.
I really hope I don’t if she turns out to be a homicidal maniac.
“When’s your first class?” Cady asks. She may be a billionaire, but she’s down-to-earth and easy to be around. I really like her, and love that she makes Max so happy.
I think Max makes her happy as well. Cady has an unconventional back story that prevented her from finishing high school, let alone going to university. She always asks about my classes and admitted to wanting more education someday.
I’m not sure when someday will be if she keeps finding ways to make more money like she does.
“Tuesday.” I wonder if Cady would like Tilly. I wonder what Tilly would say if she found out Cady owned a website dedicated to women wanting to have sex. I wonder if Tilly has ever used the Mature Adult Females site.
It’s different from a dating site—more like an escort service. She also owned one of those for men, as well.
Somehow I doubt Tilly even knows about the site, but you never know. She could be an excellent actress.
“I’ve got a couple of interesting classes this semester—an intro to horror, history of fantasy, and one studying the songwriting of Taylor Swift,” I say.
Cady seems amazed. “Really? They have a course for that?”
“Dude,” Max says in an ominous voice. “You think that’s a good idea?”
“It’s an interesting course,” I say defensively. “Someone came up with it at Harvard, but I created the syllabus for the school. I’ve got a full class. Waiting list and everything.” Max still looks concerned. “What?”
“Taylor Swift? Dude, you’re asking for trouble. That one is a bad idea.”
“Why?” Cady wants to know.
“The class will be full of young, attractive, first-year—”
“It’s a second-year course.” We have had this conversation and I don’t need a repeat. But Max has always worried about me, and Nick. He’s also the first I would call if I ever get into trouble.
“Not that it makes it any better. Dex has had a little trouble—” Max tells Cady.
“It’s not trouble,” I argue. “And not in a while.”
“You almost got fired because you were boning one of your students,” Max accuses.
Cady widens her eyes. “Really?”
“He almost got fired because of it.”
“They weren’t at the same time. And I wasn’t close to getting fired, they just… it was suggested that it would be best if I found another teaching position. But it’s okay because I like it here.”
Do I sound defensive? Maybe a little. I’ve made a few mistakes, but who really likes being reminded of them?
“You had sex with a student?” Cady frowns.
“Two students,” Max offers, ever so helpfully, holding up two fingers for emphasis
“Really?” Cady cries. “Is that illegal or something?”
There’s no judgment in her voice—not with her background—only curiosity.
“It’s frowned upon, but not illegal,” I tell her. “They were all over eighteen—don’t think I’m an old pervert.”
“You’re neither old nor pervert-y.” Cady smiles at me. “But that’s a bit of a surprise.”
“I know. I can’t picture this guy seducing hot young girls by spouting off about Jane Austen.” Max laughs.
I did meet both Mallory and Daphna in the Jane Austen class, but I’m not about to mention that. “It was a long time ago,” I say instead. “And I didn’t really seduce them. They came on to me.”
Both Max and Cady keep looking at me. “But I just didn’t say no,” I admit with a rueful shrug. I didn’t take advantage of my position of authority. It wasn’t like I was prowling for women while lecturing about books. All three of them approached me.
As well as a few others.
I didn’t turn them down, and that’s on me.
I had sexual relationships with three of my students. There was no abuse, no coercion, no favours of good grades. I had sex with them, and that is frowned on.
I’m not sure if saying I fell in love with one of them makes it better or worse.
“It shows a lack of good judgement,” the Dean of the university had said to me. I think my two-year relationship with Elena was the only reason I wasn’t fired—yes, it began in the classroom, but it was obvious it had become more.
“It’s so difficult for a man when beautiful women come on to them,” Cady says with a heavy dose of sarcasm. “They just can’t find the strength to say no.”
“What would have happened with us if I had the strength to turn you down?” Max teases her.
“I did not come on to you.” Cady throws her pen at him. “You were drunk in an elevator and kept talking about pancakes.”
“Whatever works, right?” Max winks at me, but then turns serious. “Watch yourself with the Swifties,” he warns. “The ladies will be looking to write their own song featuring their bad professor.”
The thought had crossed my mind, but I hadn’t let myself dwell on it. “I’m older and wiser now,” I assure him.
“And not dating for a while means you’re working on your self-control.”
The thought of Tilly’s soft thighs flash through my mind.
Technically, I never went on a date with Tilly.
She might have been on a date, but I wasn’t.
“Lots of self-control,” I echo dryly, and Max laughs again.
Cady, on the other hand, looks at me like she knows exactly what’s going on in my mind.
Who knows? Maybe she does.