The stubborn set to his jaw had me reconsidering Colin’s gentle nature. “What’s going on,” he repeated, “is that I’m not quite sure what I’m doing here. First I catch you practically eating another guy’s face in your office, and now I discover your group is a pickup spot.”
Angered beyond belief, I tried to control my shaking. “Are you accusing me of being unprofessional and using my capacity as a professional, as adoctor, to find sexual partners?”
Perhaps noticing my upset, Colin turned instantly contrite and touched my shoulder. “Oh. No, no, that wasn’t what I meant. I’m sorry, Roe. I guess I’m a little mixed up. I’ve never been in an open relationship before. Or really any relationship, to be honest.”
The worry in his eyes tempered my anger. “Presley has a serious boyfriend—fiancé, actually. Both come to the group to work out some long-standing issues. I would never compromise my license and life’s work for sex.”
“What about the guy I saw you kissing in your office? He’s here, and you’ve been ignoring him, but even I can feel the looks he’s shooting you from across the room.”
I ran my hand down Colin’s bicep, and he moved into my arms with a satisfied sigh. The scent of his cologne made me sneeze.
“Sorry. Well, what happened with him was a mistake. We knew each other a long time ago, and he thought we could pick up where we left off.”
“And do you want to? Be honest. I don’t need to chase after someone when all I’ll ever be is an afterthought.”
Colin and I had never been anything less than truthful with each other from the start, and I wanted to make things right between us. “You’re not an afterthought, and you’re the one I want to be with tonight.” To prove it, I took his face between the palms of my hands and brushed our lips together. “Come home with me?”
Colin’s green eyes blazed with desire. “I’d love to. If you’re sure.”
Initially I’d hesitated before accepting Colin’s tentative advances since I was ten years his senior. It wasn’t much, but he seemed so young. Or maybe it was me, and I felt older than my forty years. But the times we’d had sex, I’d found him to be fun and lively. I was ready to take it to the next level, to bring him home with me and have him stay the night. I kissed him again. “I’d really like to. I don’t have classes tomorrow. Do you?”
“An eleven o’clock seminar.” Colin taught romanticism in Modern Literature, and we’d had long talks about love and fidelity and intimacy.
“That’s perfect.”
With my arm around Colin’s shoulder, I signaled the waiter for another glass of wine. My skin prickled, and from across the bar, I found Ezra’s gaze on me. While Colin chattered about his students and some of the more ridiculous answers they gave in class, my lips tingled. That explosive kiss between Ezra and me hadn’t strayed far from my mind since it happened, and it would pop into my head at inopportune times: on the subway during my commute, while grocery shopping, or worst of all, while lying in bed, watching the minutes tick by.
When I saw Ezra push his way through the crowd around the bar toward me, I needed to get away. I had no desire for a repeat performance of what happened in my office. What I should’ve done was take Colin by the arm and lead him out of the restaurant and to my apartment. Instead, I squeezed his shoulder. “I’ll be right back.”
I left him to make a beeline for the men’s room. I used the urinal and washed my hands, then leaned against the wall. The door opened, and I knew before I saw the sun-streaked mop of golden hair that it was Ezra. Nerve endings snapped and zinged through me. Nothing had changed between us since we were fifteen. If Ezra was nearby, my body sensed it.
He closed the door behind him. “What are you doing here? I didn’t think these kinds of events were your thing.” His upper lip curled, and my back went up.
“Yeah? Well, you don’t know what my things are. You don’t know me at all.”
Ignoring my answer, Ezra fixed his hair in the mirror, peering in closely. “What’re you doing with that pretty young guy? Reliving your youth?”
“Colin is a good friend and a great person.”
His eyes met mine in the mirror. “That’s a kiss-of-death description.” He faced me. “Are you together?” He examined his nails, and that action infuriated me. Like here we were, talking about the menu or a television show. I didn’t answer and brushed past him to leave, but he caught my wrist.
“Let go of me,” I gritted out and yanked my arm away. “I have to get back.”
“Are you really into him? What does he do for you?”
“Colin is an associate professor of English Lit. He’s an intelligent, good man and says what he feels. He doesn’t play games.”
Ezra’s eyes narrowed to hard chips. “What are you insinuating?”
“I don’t know if you understand words with more than one syllable, so I’ll spell it out nice and simple for you.” Flinging insults was so out of character for me, but around Ezra I became someone other than the quiet, bookish Dr. Monroe Friedman who helped people with depression and anxiety. Around him, I didn’t understand who I was. Ezra brought out the worst in me, and I wanted to hurt him the way he hurt me years ago. “I don’t want you. I’m never going to want you. What we had is over. There’s nothing between us.”
With each word, his breathing grew shallower, and I watched the sweat break out on his forehead. In stark relief, the overhead lighting illuminated the strain radiating from his eyes, and it gave me pause—maybe he wasn’t the casual party boy I made him out to be.
“And that guy does it for you? There’s something between you two? I don’t think so.” He crowded nearer, and I could smell the cool scent of his cologne and conversely his heat. “That kiss we had didn’t taste like nothing. Your lips didn’t taste like it’s over. You can fake your words and ignore me, but when I do this?” He ran his knuckles down my cheek, and goddammit, I quivered and my breath hitched. “Yeah…” His white teeth gleamed in his sun-kissed face. “You feel me.”
Like a key slipping into a well-oiled lock, for one brief moment I allowed myself the luxury of falling into Ezra’s touch. My resolve weakened, and I was helpless.
“Do you love him? Want him?” Ezra’s voice bathed me in rich, honeyed warmth.
