Chapter Two
Billie
Seth gets up and walks toward us. I’m sure he’s moving at normal speed, but it feels like he’s approaching in slow motion, each step a small eternity.
His eyes are fixed on mine with unfamiliar fervor, his spine straight, stride long and smooth.
He appears almost predatory, not like the goofball I once washed beakers with.
This is a man, dangerous, thrilling, one with a purpose—and that purpose is me.
I can’t believe how much Seth has changed since grad school days.
I thought he was attractive back then, all tall and skinny and perpetually uncombed.
The two of us were so close, too close if you ask my now ex-husband.
I talked with Seth more openly and more broadly than with anyone else, our late nights running assays often conducive to deep conversations .
.. and confusing feelings of closeness. At least on my end.
But Seth never made a move, never tried to touch me or even properly flirt, so I often wondered it was all in my head, this feeling that we were drawn to each other, that we could be so much more than we were. That we could be everything.
More than anyone else I’ve met before or since, Seth made me feel that I’d rushed into my marriage with Doug, that the world was big and full of people who could embrace all of me, that I could be known and cherished and not made to feel like I was being too much, needing too much, overfilling the space that was meant for me. .. Making my loved ones feel small.
I hate to admit it even to myself because it makes me an awful person, a disloyal person, a cheater in my own mind, but there were so many times I’d wanted to kiss Seth, to run my hands through that mussed-up hair, and the only thing that stopped me was the guilt over betraying Doug, because I knew how it felt when I suspected he’d done it to me, and I didn’t think anyone deserved to feel that way.
The guilt alone made me cling to Doug more, try to be better to him, more loving, more flexible, more of what he said he needed from me.
More of what I have since come to realize I could never become if I were to still feel like myself.
By then, it had been years since Seth had graduated and moved on, and basically ceased all contact.
And now he’s approaching, intent and graceful like a savanna cat, and I’m every bit a gazelle, fearing his nearness, rooted in place when I should probably flee. Because I’m eager—I am desperate—for the onslaught of all that intensity from him.
Edie is still chatting with our friends when Seth reaches us, grabs my upper arm, and leans in to whisper, “I need to talk to you. In private.”
I swallow hard, my heart rapidly drumming. I haven’t been this close to Seth in years, and this version of him, fully grown and wearing a nice suit, the career Seth, the conference-goer Seth, he smells clean and masculine, and, yes, I would very much like to talk to him in private.
But all I say is, “Sure,” and even muster a small, one-shoulder shrug, like I couldn’t care less.
I tap Edie on the back, to let her know I’ll be leaving. Edie straightens from her half-bent position, looking confused at first, but then her eyes dart between Seth and me and her mouth stretches into a knowing grin. “Finally,” she says and shoos us away.
Seth’s hand is on the small of my back as he gently leads me out of the restaurant, through the hallway, to the empty patio outside.
The patio is dark, barely lit from the hallway within. It’s decorated with shrubs and small concrete fountains that double as ashtrays. As we step onto paving stone and gravel, our feet make a loud crunching sound. Somehow, it permeates the deafening rush of blood in my ears.
Seth grabs my left hand and runs his thumb along my bare ring finger, as if trying to erase something from there. His forehead is pinched, his eyes following the thumb.
When he finally looks up, he appears hurt. “Why didn’t you tell me you got divorced?”
“It’s not a secret,” I reply. “People I’m in touch with knew. Edie and Javi knew.”
His face twists, grip tightening on my hand.
“What was I supposed to do?” I continue. “Email you out of the blue and say, ‘Hey Seth, I know we haven’t spoken since you graduated, and you don’t seem to care if I live or die, but just FYI, I got divorced, in case you’re interested in depressing personal news.’”
“Of course I would’ve been interested. You...” He runs a hand through his hair in what seems like frustration, his other hand still holding mine, stroking my ring finger. “You must have known I would have been interested.”
I pull my hand out of his and cross my arms, my excitement being pushed aside by a wave of irritation.
“Why?” I ask. “Why would I have known that? We haven’t been in touch in four years, Seth.
You graduated and fell off the face of the Earth.
Why would I have known you’d have wanted to hear from me? ”
He grabs my hand again, this time with both of his. “I wanted to stay in touch. I really did. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t stand to see pictures of you buying a house and having babies with Doug.”
I blink. This was the last thing I expected to hear.
“All I ever wanted was for you to realize he wasn’t right for you,” Seth continues, his voice now softer, lower. “But I didn’t think it would ever happen. I thought you’d never leave him.”
Neither of us has moved, yet the distance between us has somehow shrunk.
A shiver rises through my body, and I could blame it on the cold night or the thinness of my dress, but it’s not that cold and I’m not that deluded.
It’s Seth’s warm breath on the side of my face, sending chills across my skin, making my nipples stiffen.
Has he ever been this close to me before? This deep in my personal space?
“There was a time when I thought Doug was the best I could do,” I say. My eyes are on his and it feels dangerous to look anywhere else, because the moment will be gone... And I don’t want it gone.
Seth swears under his breath. “That’s bullshit, Billie. You’re far out of his league and he knew it. He knew you’d leave him if he ever let you spread your wings. He wanted you small. Small like he was.”
“I don’t want to talk about Doug anymore,” I say, trying to stay in the moment despite the irritation that the mention of my ex always provokes in me. “I’m sick and tired of thinking about what he wants. It’s all I’ve done for years. Not anymore.”
Seth is still holding my hands in his. He scans my face, his gaze intense and searching. “So what happened? Were you the one to break it off?”
I sigh. “It’s a long story, but the short answer is yes, it was me. Anyway, we should probably get inside. It’s getting cold.”
“I don’t want to rejoin the others.” He squeezes my hands, his voice pleading. “I want to talk to you. Just you.”
“Let me grab my purse and we can go somewhere else.”
He nods. “I will wait for you here.”
I go back to the table to retrieve my coat and purse. Edie and Javi watch me with matching grins.
“What?” I frown. “Why are you two being so weird?”
Edie throws her hands up in the air. “Finally!”
“My boy has made his move. I’m so proud of him,” says Javi, a smile splitting his face ear to ear.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. No one’s made any moves.” I mean, sure, Seth’s been a bit strange about my ring finger and my divorce, and I’m feeling things that I probably shouldn’t, but absolutely no moves have been made. No moves whatsoever.
Edie claps her hands. “Now that you’re free—”
“There’s nothing stopping you anymore!” Javi finishes.
“Pass me the purse, please,” I say, opening my palm toward Edie. “You’re both imagining things. We’re just going to catch up.”
Javi wags his eyebrows. “And why can’t you catch up here, with all your trusty former lab mates in attendance?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he feels bad he’s been out of touch with everyone. Feels out of the loop.” That’s totally what it is. Even I don’t believe the silly lie, but I’m a little impressed with myself at how easily it slips off my tongue.
Javi sighs and rolls his eyes. “All right, whatever,” he says and motions me away. “Go have fun.”
I say quick goodbyes to everyone at our table, and then I’m off.
“I expect you to be in my talk tomorrow!” Edie shouts from behind me. Without turning around, I raise my arms above my head and give her a thumbs-up.
****
“Okay, now what?” I ask when I finally rejoin Seth back on the patio.
“Now we find somewhere to talk in private.”
“Like another bar?”
Seth watches me, waiting for something.
“Seth? Where are we going?”
He shakes his head, as if trying to wake himself up.
Then he cranes his neck through the door and peeks inside to make sure the coast is clear.
I squeal when he pulls me from the patio and into the hallway, then drags me into a small corridor leading toward a separate breakfast area.
Which is now closed. Very closed and very dark.
But apparently not locked, because Seth gives the glass door a push and it opens.
I follow him into the shadows. My mouth feels dry, my throat tight with confusing emotions.
He pushes my purse off my shoulder. It falls to the carpeted floor with a soft thud.
I feel the beats of my heart in my neck.
Gently, he nudges me toward the wall and puts his hands on either side of my head, caging me with his body.
There’s only an inch of space between his chest and the tips of my breasts.
His breaths are coming in as fast and shallow as mine.
A sheen of perspiration gleams on his forehead in the faint light coming from the hallway.
“Are you seeing anyone right now?” he whispers.
I shake my head and his face softens in the dim light.
“I’ve been wanting to kiss you for eight years,” he whispers, leaning in to cup my jaw.
He’s so close. His lips are so close. I smell his cologne, mixed with faint notes of toothpaste and the beer he had earlier.
“So what do you think?” Seth asks, his thumb stroking my cheek.
“About what?” My voice is strangled, raspy.
“About me kissing you.”
I finally manage to swallow. I want this so, so much, but I feel I’m not allowed to.
“What’s going on in that head of yours, Billie?”
“I ... I don’t know.”
“Tell me the truth. Do you want to kiss me? Have you ever thought about kissing me?”
“Of course I have! So many times. But it made me feel so guilty...”
“Do you still feel guilty?”
I nod, unable to meet his eyes. “It’s like a reflex.”
His thumb moves to stroke my lower lip. “Billie,” he says very softly. “You are free now. You can do anything you want. That guy ... I know he was a big part of your life but he’s not anymore, baby. You are free.”
He cants his hips so his pelvis touches mine, and I feel his hard cock against my lower belly. As he lightly pushes into me, arousal surges between my thighs. I want him so badly. I want all of this so fucking badly.
Fuck Doug. Fuck the guilt.
I grab Seth’s head, pull it down to mine, and I kiss him hard.
His lips part over mine, my tongue seeking the warmth of his mouth.
He lets out a guttural sound, a pained groan from somewhere deep in his chest, then grabs me by the ass and presses me into his groin, his teeth and tongue relentless on my face.
“Oh God, Seth—”
“This is even better than I imagined,” he breathes. “You taste so good. You sound so good. Billie—”
His hand moves to my throat, thumb pressing and stroking, and his tongue follows, igniting a path on my skin.
I run my hands through his thick brown hair; it’s soft, smelling of mint and trees.
His stubble scratches and I savor the burn, because I’m finally, finally near enough to touch.
I brush the edge of his jaw and the line of his throat, down to his Adam’s apple’s beckoning jut.
It used to taunt me, that Adam’s apple, as though it whispered, peek beneath the lab coat, see I’m a man, look at me, look at me, take me, fuck me.
I run my hands down Seth’s heaving chest and he’s hard all over, as I knew he would be. But what I want, what I need, is to touch his cock. I’ve never touched anyone’s dick but Doug’s, and Seth’s is the one that’s starred in my dreams.
I squeeze it over his pants and he inhales loudly, thrusting into my hand.
“Billie” —his voice is throaty and more than a little pained—“do you want to come up to my room?”
Yes. I’m hot all over, turned on in a way I don’t remember being. There’s a faint tug of guilt in my gut, but I manage to push it down.
You want this, Billie. You’ve always wanted this. And now you can have it.
“Yes,” I say. I can’t believe how sure I sound, because my whole body trembles, my insides liquified from the opposing pulls of lust and shame. Yet I can’t seem to stop stroking Seth’s cock as he gives tiny thrusts into my hand, struggling to catch his breath.
He finally rears back, grabs my wrist, lifting my palm off his crotch, and meets my gaze.
Our eyes have adjusted to the faint light, and I see everything.
The way he looks at me is vulnerable, raw, and filled with desperate need.
My chest constricts as I understand what he feels, and, inexplicably, I want to cry.
I’d never known this is what Seth is, what he’s felt underneath our easy friendship, that it’s everything that I’ve always felt for him, but somehow deeper and more powerful. Completely devastating.
I’m terrified at the force of surging emotions, but I want to be brave, I will be brave, because this is what I want. What I have always wanted. And now there’s no reason not to.
I pull back and cup his cheek, his hand still holding my other wrist in a ruthless grip, as if he fears I’m going to run.
“Anything you have to be up early for?” I ask.
“No. Why?”
“Because I really want to go to your room. And not worry about how late we stay up.”