“Jeez, don’t sound so happy about it.”
She laughs. “My vagina is happy.”
“I can tell,” I say and back up. “And from the way she’s currently looking at me, I’m guessing she wants a repeat sooner rather than later.”
Grinning, she briefly closes her eyes. “What am I getting myself into?”
“I don’t know.” I move closer and stroke my thickening dick. “But I know what I’d like to get back into.”
12
Maria
The second my English literature class ends, I snap my laptop shut and glance around. Voices rise instantly. Students gather their things and drift out in clusters, already laughing, already belonging. And for one brief, stupid moment, I feel like I don’t. Like I’m pretending.
Like someone’s going to tap me on the shoulder and say, Ma’am, this is for people who still have their whole lives ahead of them.
My grip tightens on my laptop. Then—because apparently I can’t go five minutes without him invading my brain—Tuck’s voice cuts through the noise.
It’s never too late, Maria.
I huff out a quiet breath, shake my head at myself, and square my shoulders. Right. I’m doing this. I earned my seat just as much as anyone else in this room. And also…Tuck would absolutely give me that disappointed look if I bailed now, and I refuse to be on the receiving end of that.
I stand, slipping my laptop into my bag, when a deep voice sounds behind me.
“I think you might have dropped this.”
I turn—and for a split second, my brain does that annoying thing where it tries to compare every man on earth to Tuck. Tuck wins every time, although this guy is around my age, tall, with a well-trimmed beard and eyes that land somewhere between kind and quietly amused. He holds out a pen, and I recognize him immediately—the other “older” student. We clocked each other on the first day, that silent we don’t quite fit but we’re doing it anyway acknowledgment.
“Oh, thank you.” I take the pen. “I would’ve been very sad without this. It’s my only one that works consistently.”
He smiles. “Happy to save the day.”
“Heroic, honestly.”
“Don’t tell anyone,” he says, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “I have a reputation to maintain.”
I laugh before I can stop myself, the tension from earlier loosening a notch. “Are you enjoying the class?”
His expression softens. “I am. Though…sometimes I feel a little out of place.”
I let out a breathy laugh. “I was literally just thinking that.”
“Yeah?” His smile widens, like that’s the best possible answer I could’ve given. “Good. I mean, not good, but…you know what I mean.”
“I do.” I tilt my head. “It’s weird, right? Like we showed up to the wrong party but decided to stay anyway.”
“Exactly.” He huffs a quiet laugh. “Everyone else seems so…sure.”
“Or they’re just better at faking it.”
“Fair point.”
There’s a small pause, and I think about my dating life. If I were looking, I could be interested in this man. Then I remember Rowyn wants to set me up with a writer/professor who goes to this college.
“I’m Carter,” he says, stepping a little closer and holding out his hand.
“Maria.” I take it, and his grip is firm.
