Claire
It had been a week since I fell asleep on Aiken’s chest. He’d given me space for two days, and then he was back at it: cooking dinner, pouring wine, and acting like he really liked doing all of the above. He told me about the website he’d been working on and the farmers loving the final product. Currently, he was working on a website for an online craft store. I’d handed him the cliff notes on my class and teaching hours.
The night before, he’d come over with a cigar in one hand and a tumbler of whiskey in the other. We’d sat on the steps to my back porch, side-by-side, knees knocking, sharing the whiskey—our mouths taking turns, covering the lip of the tumbler in the same spot—and staring at the stars.
“This is pretty sensual,” I admitted.
“Oh, really? Do tell?” He took a puff of his cigar, blowing the smoke out in rings.
“It feels intimate, sharing a glass of liquor. I know, it’s silly. Don’t laugh.”
“Richards, if this is what you consider sensual, brace yourself. Actually, consider this foreplay…”
I squeezed his knee, stopping him before he went all graphic on me.
“Dinner tomorrow. Out. I’m thinking you should wear something slinky, show off those legs of yours. Pick you up at seven. Time for us to take this show on the road. We can share a drink, seeing what it does to you.”
He didn’t give me a moment to answer. On a wink, he patted Smitty’s head, mumbling, “Good boy,” and went home.
Now, as I prepped for my class, all I could think about was that damn wink and what it meant.
Christ, I knew what it meant.
I was agrown woman, like he’d said.
But what did it mean in the whole scope of things?
Would it be a one-time thing? Taking the show on the road?
Like aI dated a teacher, slept with an older woman, bragging rightsdeal?
Or more?
“Hi, Professor Richards.” Abbie interrupted my imagination running wild as I set my stuff on the dais.
I smiled to myself as a quick vision ofWhere the Wild Things Arecrossed my mind. I’d read that book to Abby countless times as a toddler, her head propped on my shoulder as she took in the crazy beasts running across the pages.
“Hi, Abbie, how are you?” I wanted to savor my memories longer, but my overeager student was standing in front of me, obviously wanting something, arms dangling in front of her.
“I’m great. Well, actually, I have a favor to ask of you. Do you have a minute, or should I come to office hours?”
I knewAbbie with an iewas going to be trouble. Must be something about the name—
She didn’t wait for my answer. “I’m registering for next semester, and I really, really want to take your research class.”
“Go on.”
“I haven’t taken second-level statistics yet, and it’s a requirement.”
“It is a requirement for a good reason. We use those stats to tabulate many of our conclusions.”
“Look, I took AP stats in high school, and I placed out of first level. I promise I can handle it. Anything I don’t know, I will teach to myself on the side. Anyway…” She grabbed a slip from her backpack. “They said if you sign this, they’d make an exception and let me into your class.”
She stared at me with big blue-green eyes, the world ahead of her, more than likely including a career, a husband, and a family down the line. I shoved aside the thought that my Abby would never have those things and said, “Okay, but if you can’t hack it, you have to drop the class.” I wanted to get back to my happy memories, stat. It had been so long since I’d peacefully looked back on the past and made myself smile.
“I swear. I swear on my life.”
“Okay, I’ll sign.” I needed her to stop with all the swearing on her life. Didn’t she know what an awful threat that was? It wasn’t a viable bargaining chip—
