“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 assomething.
“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 notjust 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 thatmy 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.
