Or would the thrill fade as quickly as it came, leaving me chasing the next impossible thing? Is that why I feel so restless?
“I don’t know. But I can’t just let either go. Both are mysteries, and it’s driving me crazy.”
Dom sighs, shaking his head.
“You’re playing with fire, Diego. You can’t chase both without getting burned.”
“Possibly.”
The noise of the party swells around us, Emilio’s voice cutting through the chaos as he cannonballs back into the pool, sending a wave of water splashing over the edge. Dom gestures toward the absurdity, saying something, but I put the spotlight on him when I remember what Hollister said.
“Holli said you like older women.” A mild reaction wrinkles across his face. The only one I get. “Said you have someone right now.”
“Is that a question or a statement?”
Dodging me will not work this time. I need help figuring out what to do, especially if I am pursuing a professor. I could use some tips.
“Come on, man. You know what’s up. If I have any shot at my professor, you know, likening the climb and not the view, how do I get her?”
Dom laughs, leaning back and stretching his arms over his head.
“You don’t get an older woman. They’re not a peak you climb. They’re not playing the same game as the girls you’re used to.”
I frown, wondering what the hell that’s supposed to mean.
“What?”
“They’ve already climbed the mountains, dumbass. They know what they want, and they’re not wasting time on some kid trying to figure himself out.”
I bristle at the word kid.
My jaw tightens.
“I’m not a kid. I’ve been on my own a long ass time. Traveled the world and shit.”
“Sure, you’re not,” he interrupts, a huff escaping with his words. “But to someone like your professor? You might as well be. Probably chasing a grade. She’s got a career, responsibilities, probably a shitload of baggage she’s not looking to unpack with a guy who’s barely out of undergrad.”
“I’m not ‘barely out,’” I argue, my voice edging with frustration as I stand. “And I’m not some clueless freshman chasing after her for a grade.”
Dom raises an eyebrow.
Skeptical as always.
“Then what are you chasing?”
“Fuck, stop saying chasing or climbing.”
But damn, if that question doesn’t make my chest tighten. It’s a good question. A great one, actually, but I don’t have an answer. At least, not one I’m willing to admit out loud. When I don’t respond, he levels me with a look.
“If you want any shot, you’ve got to bring something to the table. Something more than just the thrill of the chase for you.”
I tilt my head, trying to read between the lines even though I warned him not to use that word.
“Like what?”
“Confidence,” he says without hesitation, and I bristle because I have a shit ton of it. “No, not the cocky bullshit you pull with everyone else, real confidence. She’s going to see through anything fake. And respect. You’ve got to respect her time, her boundaries, her life. You can’t bulldoze your way in and expect her to let you stay.”
Well, shit.
