Chapter 22
TWENTY-TWO
Alis
Umph. “What the?!” I bolt upright in bed and look to my left, then to my right, before realizing my sleep mask is still on and I can’t see a darn thing.
Someone launched themselves onto my full-sized bed, waking me before my alarm.
Pulling my eye mask down to my neck, I see Skye perched on her elbow, smirking at me like she knows something.
“What the hell are you doing in my bed?” I ask, frustration evident in my tone.
“Can’t a girl greet her bestie in the morning?” She gives me doe eyes as if she’s innocent. Fat chance.
I grab my phone and check the time. “It’s 4:30 a.m. Unless you are dying, I’m going back to sleep.”
Before I can mask up and fall back into my wonderful, dreamless sleep, Skye grabs my wrist and whines, “Nooooooo. You can’t go back to sleep! I have to leave for work in twenty minutes but first I have to hear about last night!”
“Last night? What about it?” I’m not awake enough to remember anything right now, much less specifics of my evening activities.
Skye shoves my shoulder. “What happened with Sexy Dexy, obviously!”
“First, don’t hit me. Second, nothing happened. We ate pizza and graded quizzes. Then I came home.” My matter-of-fact tone leaves nothing to the imagination. Nothing happened. Except when he held my hand while talking about my sister… but that doesn’t count as something.
“I call bullshit.” Skye sits up on her knees and bounces, shaking me even more awake than before.
“Not bullshit. Also, stop bouncing!” She can shove me? I can shove her. Right off the side of my bed. Skye catches herself before falling off the bed, face revealing that she still doesn’t believe a word I’ve said.
“If you’re serious and nothing happened, you’re even more of a prude than I gave you credit for,” she scoffs. Seriously? Just because I don’t salivate over anything with two legs and a dick doesn’t mean I’m a prude.
I rub the sleep from my eyes and sigh, not wanting to have this conversation for the umpteenth time. “Skye, I told you. We work together. He’s a professor. I’m his grader. Nothing is going on. I’m not going there.”
“But why?! I saw how he looked at you the day he came over. That man wants you. And don’t even lie and say you don’t want him right back. He’s a walking professorgasm, I swear. That man could make me go back to school.”
Professorgasm. That’s a new one.
“I’m not getting involved with a professor. Period.”
“So you don’t deny you want him.” Stop pushing me, woman.
“Skye.”
“That’s not an answer.” Isn’t it, though?
“It doesn’t matter if he wants me or if I want him. It’s not happening. Go away. I need sleep.” I lay back and lift my mask to cover my eyes, thinking she’ll finally leave. Nope. Her next words make my entire body stiffen.
“This is about that douche canoe from Grant, isn’t it.” She did not just say that. I lay silent, hiding behind my mask. If I don’t respond, maybe she’ll just go on her merry way.
“Alis.” Nope. Still not responding.
“I knew it,” she says, disappointment heavy in her words. “You’re really going to let something that DIDN’T happen a decade ago prevent you from a good thing with a great guy.”
I remain silent and unmoving. Please, just leave me alone. Not all of us have the desire to slay our own demons, okay?
“Whatever. It’s your life. But as your best friend, I have a responsibility to be honest with you and right now the truth is you’re acting like a fucktard.
” She stands and I feel her weight leave my bed.
I hear her walk toward the door and she stops, saying, “I haven’t seen you interested in anyone since college, and now that you finally feel sparks with someone you’re going to let the ghost of graduate programs past hold you back.
Stop being a coward, Alis. You’re better than that. ”
With that, she leaves, slamming my bedroom door and leaving me to wallow in denial and self-pity.
Dexter
We made progress last night. After she let our hands rest on top of one another during our conversation I knew she could no longer deny the chemistry between us.
Not that she’s ever really denied it, per se, but she’s avoided it.
I still do not understand why she’s so concerned with others’ perceptions of our relationship.
Sure, Alis prefers to go unnoticed, but she’s not insecure or lacking confidence.
She also isn’t without a backbone. She’s strong, intelligent, beautiful, and anyone who has spent even five minutes in her presence knows it.
She could never be accused of sleeping her way to the top — of academia? What a joke!
I want to pursue her. I also don’t want my actions to scare her or push her away.
She’s made it clear on more than one occasion that my advances are not welcome, but her actions and words contradict each other.
I’m not a man with an overly aggressive personality; I’m actually baffled by my dedication to pursuing a romantic relationship with Alis.
I’ve never struggled with gaining a woman’s attention, whether for a night or an actual relationship, but Alis is different.
Sure, I’ve wondered if the thrill of the chase is what keeps me interested, the challenge of it all.
But that’s not it. The more time I spend with her, the more I want to know her.
I like her. Her thoughts. Her ideas. Her words.
Her laugh. The spark of mischief in her eyes that she doesn’t let out if she’s not completely comfortable with present company.
She may be introverted, but she’s anything but boring.
Even if (God, when) she stops resisting this growing connection between us, I know I won’t lose interest.
My mind wanders back to the first night we met.
I caught her reflection through the bar mirror and felt drawn to her.
We slipped into an easy rapport as if we’d already known each other and were two people catching up, reminiscing about times past. I haven’t felt a connection like this with a woman in what seems like forever; hell, even with Laura I didn’t feel the sense of home I feel when I’m with Alis.
A knock sounds at my door, followed by the sound of Leo letting himself in.
“Yo, Dex!” he shouts. “Patio!” I holler through the open sliding glass door. Now that hockey season is fully underway, Leo and I spend game nights grilling and watching our favorite teams play. Being from Montreal, I’m a Canadiens fan at my core, while Leo pulls for the Hurricanes.
“Beer?” Leo asks as he opens my fridge to grab himself something to drink before stepping outside. “I’m good. Thanks.”
He walks out and sits in the patio chair not facing the setting sun and takes a swig from his bottle. “How goes it?” he asks.
“Good. Just trying not to burn the meat. You?” We’re a talkative pair, I tell ya.
Leo sets his beer on the table and leans forward on his elbows, hands clasped on the table. “Good.”
Silence stretches between us. Leo’s had so much shit going on with his ex lately I just expect him to fill in the space with complaining or hockey talk. But, nothing. He just continues to sit, leaning on his elbows, staring at me.
“What?” I ask, eyebrow raised.
“What, what?” he replies. Seriously?
“I’m waiting for your rant. What has Stephanie done this week?” I ask, prodding. If he’ll vent about his ex then I can stop thinking about all the ways I could fuck up my relationship with Alis by pursuing her.
“Haven’t heard from her. Not since I told her I’m no longer her emotional support animal.”
“I bet she took that well,” I laugh, imagining Stephanie’s rage face coming on full force with Leo’s dismissal.
“Wouldn’t know. I blocked her number. Figure if something happens with George, Linda can call me with an update.” George and Linda are Stephanie’s parents. They’ve been more like actual parents than in-laws for Leo, and even after the divorce, he’s remained close with them both.
“Anything new going on with them? George still in treatment?” I ask.
“Yeah,” Leo sighs, running a hand over his face. “I haven’t seen them in a few weeks, but when I talked to George a few days ago he said after this next round of chemo they’ll have a better idea of what comes next.”
“Next, as in, remission?” God, I hope so. Losing George would crush Leo.
He shrugs. “Maybe? Yes? I honestly don’t know.
” Leo leans back in his chair and clasps his hands behind his neck.
“Everything has been so up and down with this cancer shit. I want to be there for him through every step, but fucking Stephanie is always right there with her idiot husband. Rather than being supportive and mature about things, being near them makes me want to punch a fucking wall.”
“Yeah, I can see how that wouldn’t be helpful,” I smirk.
“Nope. Not at all,” he says. “After she called crying about her marriage issues and asking me for advice or whatever I knew I couldn’t physically be around her anymore. I hate that it means I can’t be with George and Linda as often, but what am I supposed to do? They’re her fucking parents, man.”
“Rock, meet hard place.”
Leo scoffs. “No fucking joke.” He pauses and takes another sip of his beer, then says, “What about you? Talk to me about something in your life so I don’t have to think about mine.”
My life is literally the most uninteresting topic of conversation. I work, watch hockey, read books … that’s it.
“Sorry to disappoint, but I’ve got nothing.” I turn back to the grill and flip the steaks.
“What about the grader? You still into her? What’s happening there?” I’ve never gone to Leo for relationship advice — not that I’ve ever had a relationship to speak of since meeting him — but perhaps he can help me work out of my own rock-and-hard-place situation.
I grab my beer off the tray next to the grill and take a seat at the patio table with Leo. “Yeah, I’m still into her,” I say. “And I’m pretty positive she’s into me. But she shuts me down at every chance.”
Leo laughs. “Why is she shutting you down, again?”
“At first she said it’s because she just moved here and needed to find her footing.
Then it was because I’m a professor and she’s a student, which I’d understand if she was in her early twenties or something but she’s thirty.
It’s not like some old fuck coming onto a kid, eh?
” I shake my head in annoyance, taking another swig of my beer.
I continue, “She has a kid.” This catches Leo’s attention.
“No shit?”
“Yeah. I met her a few weeks ago when I stopped by her apartment when she was out sick.”
Leo pauses his bottle mid-lift to his mouth. “You did what?”
Running my hand through my hair, I tip my head back and blow out a breath. “Yeah. She was out sick for a week or something and wasn’t responding to emails, so I got her address from Deborah and went over there.”
Leo snorts and shakes his head, looking down at his beer. “And how’d that go over?”
I smile, remembering how uncomfortable Alis felt at first, but then how she opened up to me before I left.
“Good, man. Really good. At first, she was caught off guard, but I think it was because of her kid. I had no idea she was a mom, but it makes sense given how cagey she’d been.
I don’t buy the professor/student excuse because she knows she’ll never be in one of my classes, but she’s clinging to it. ”
“Have you mentioned any of this to Abigail?” Leo asks.
“No, but that’s a thought. Maybe if I clear it with Abigail first I can assuage Alis’s fears of crossing this imaginary line she’s created.
I’ve been trying to figure out how to move forward with her without disrespecting her boundaries, but I swear, man, her words and her body language say two completely different things. ”
“Body language?” Leo asks.
“Yeah. Like when we co-taught that fall break intensive for Abigail, I swear I caught her staring at me with fuck-me eyes at least ten times.”
“Don’t most female students stare at you that way?”
I scoff. “You know what I mean. With her, it’s different. It’s not like the twenty-year-olds who look at me like they want to suck me off because I’m forbidden fruit. When Alis looks at me it’s because she wants me, not her professor.”
“So he looks at you like Savannah does,” Leo smirks right before taking another swig of his beer.
I kick his shin under the table. “Fuck off. You know it’s not like that, either.”
I stand to check the steaks before he can return the jab, and thankfully Leo doesn’t say anything more on the topic. I pull the steaks from the grill and we head inside for an evening of yelling at the television, none of which includes talk about women.
Perhaps Leo is right, and I should talk to Abigail before I try anything further with Alis. Women like it when men take charge of things like this, right?