by Noelle Adams
The student is still with me when I get to the floor of my office. She’s one of those well-dressed southern girls with perfect makeup, shiny hair, and an outfit that’s a step or two above what most undergrads wear to class. She’s smiling and bobbing her head as I talk.
She never struck me as the most academically engaged student, so I’m amazed she’s as fascinated by this topic as she is.
It’s nice though. For someone to care about subjects I know a lot about.
I’m looking down at her, answering another of her questions, as we turn the corner that leads to my office. It’s several seconds before I look down the hall, and when I do I stop short.
Courtney is right outside my office, leaning against the wall and watching me with a frown on her face.
She’s never come to visit me on campus. Not once.
I pick up my speed. “Is everything all right?”
She straightens up and smiles, but her expression is slightly strained. She looks from me to the student beside me and then back again. “Yeah. I was just waiting for you.”
“I’m just getting out of class.”
“I know. I just got here.” She’s wearing her work clothes—a T-shirt with the logo of the community program on it and a pair of low-riding black trousers. Despite the no-frills outfit, she looks gorgeous. Sustaining. Like a swallow of cold water in the desert.
She’s still shooting the student a look I don’t understand. “Are you busy?” she asks at last, when all three of us have just stood there in silence.
I glance down at my student. I don’t have office hours right now, but I’d be happy to talk to any student if they need extra help or if they want more information. Our conversation has pretty much come to an end though, so I figure she’s probably ready to leave.
The girl looks annoyed about something, but then she gives me a wide smile. She’s got on bright red lipstick. I don’t see very many students wearing makeup like that. “I’ll let you go, Dr. Milner. Thanks for talking to me.”
I give her a nod. “Sure thing. See you in class next week.”
The student aims Courtney another look before she turns on her heel and saunters off.
Courtney watches her walk away with another frown.
“What’s going on?” I ask, unlocking my office door and waiting for Courtney to go in first.
She steps inside. “Nothing. The exterminator is coming to treat our building this afternoon, so everyone got sent home early. I just dropped by to say hello.” She turns back and gives a faint sneer at the hallway. “I hope I didn’t interrupt an important student-teacher conference.”
I blink at her dry tone. “A student-teacher conference? I was just walking back from class, and she had some questions.”
“Uh-huh.”
I’ve put my books down, and I lean against the edge of my desk. “What are you all prickly about today?”
I’m happy to see her. More than happy. But I’m also surprised.
Something has changed since that night we spent together a few weeks ago, when she came to my bed and we both opened up about the deepest parts of ourselves.
I would have thought it would bring us closer, but Courtney has actually been a bit standoffish for the past few weeks. Not aloof. Just distracted. Strangely skittish. And she hasn’t been hanging out with me as much as she usually does.
It worries me and upsets me. I miss her.
So I’m glad to see her right now. I hope it might be a sign that she’s relaxing back into our normal relationship. But her mood is off, and I don’t understand it.
“I’m not prickly,” she says. Then her frown softens into a self-deprecating smile. “Okay. Maybe I am a little. I just didn’t expect to find you surrounded by groupies.”
“Groupies? It was just one student, and she was—”
“Batting her eyelashes at you and practically drooling.”
My eyes widen. “She wasn’t doing anything of the—”
“Oh, yes, she was. Why do you think she was so dressed up? She’s got a huge crush on you, and she was hoping for a cozy little one-on-one in your office until I showed up and ruined it for her.”
I’d be amused if I weren’t so distracted by Courtney’s tense mood. She’s teasing, but she’s also not teasing, and I really don’t understand it.
Something is going on with her.
“She’s just a random student,” I say as Courtney leans against the desk right beside me, so close our hips brush against each other. “Why did you take such a disliking to her?”
“I didn’t really. Sorry.” Courtney’s cheeks are flushed, and she slants me a rueful look that’s more like her normal self. “I’m just in a mood, I guess. I should have known you’d have groupies.”
“I do not have groupies. She was just one student.”
“One student who is definitely hot for—”
“Don’t say it.”
She giggles and leans her head against my shoulder. “Well, she is. And I bet she isn’t the only one.”
A wave of warm pleasure washes over me at the affection in her tone and her posture. “Well, who cares about that?” I mumble.
“Not you. That’s for sure.” She turns her head and presses the sweetest little kiss against my shoulder. “It’s one of the reasons I love you. You’re so adorably clueless.”
I’m not about to complain about the fond assessment, but her quickly shifting moods are disorienting and not like her usual self.
I’ve still got that prickle of worry that something isn’t quite right.
And it hasn’t been right since that night in bed together.
I wrap an arm around her, and she leans against me even more. She doesn’t feel needy right now. But she feels like she wants to be close.
I always want her close.
I’m about to ask a question to try to feel out her mood some more when I hear a voice from outside my office. “Shipley? Are you in there?”
“Yeah,” I call out. I recognize the voice as belonging to Mara, one of the graduate students who shares an office down the hall.
Courtney doesn’t move from where she’s leaning against me, so I can’t stand up or change positions.
“A few of us were going to grab some coffee,” the voice says, just before Mara appears in my doorway. “Did you want to—” She stops when she discovers I’m not alone. “Oh. Sorry.”
“No worries.” I give her a smile in greeting. She’s nice enough and doing some really cool research.
“Is this your girlfriend?” Mara asks, looking at Courtney with interest.
It’s an obvious conclusion, based on the way we’re positioned, my arm around her. I’m about to correct her assumption when Courtney talks over me. “I’m Courtney,” she says with a bright smile, standing up and extending a hand to Mara.
Mara shakes it, smiling in response, although not quite as warmly as usual. “Nice to meet you. I’m Mara. We were wondering about Shipley’s status. He doesn’t give out much personal information.”
“No. He really doesn’t.” Courtney has returned to my side. She gently kneads the back of my neck, and it’s so surprising and it feels so good I want to moan.
I don’t, of course. I tell Mara, “We’ll do coffee some other time.”
She smiles again and leaves. I turn my head to check Courtney’s expression.
She’s frowning at the door.
“What now?” I ask.
“I didn’t know when I came to visit you here I’d have to fend off dozens of your admirers.”
“Admirers? Mara is just—”
“Interested in you. She was very disappointed when she thought I was your girlfriend.”
“I don’t think—”
“Who do you think knows more about women? Me or you.”
“Definitely you.”
“Okay then. You should trust me.” She’s still massaging my neck. I close my eyes and relax into it, my muscles softening under her touch. After a couple of minutes, h
er fingers move up into my hair.
That feels good too.
Better than good.
I finally straighten up and pull away before my body begins to react wrongly.
“Why did you really come here?” I ask, trying not to think about how much more I want her to touch me.
“I wanted to see you. I don’t know exactly why. I just... It’s felt like I haven’t really seen that much of you lately. Or that we’re not as much... I don’t know.” Her shoulders droop just slightly.
“I know what you mean. I’ve felt it too.” I reach up to brush a strand of hair back from her face. “I’ve missed you.”
She’s smiling again, tilting her cheek against my hand, which I haven’t dropped the way I’m supposed to. “Can we go out to dinner tonight? Are you busy?”
“I’m not busy. We can do dinner if you want. I can text the others to see if anyone can join us.”
She’s frowning again. I really can’t keep up with her today.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Nothing.” She shakes her head and clears her expression. “Nothing, really. I was just thinking that maybe I don’t want to be surrounded by a crowd tonight after all. Maybe we could stay in, just you and me, if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind.” Honestly, I’d rather stay home with just Courtney, but she’s been so skittish I didn’t want to suggest it myself. “That sounds good to me. I can make something.”
“Perfect.” She’s smiling again, shining like a glint of sunshine against the gray walls of my office. “I’ll bring the wine and dessert.”
She stretches up to kiss me on the cheek, just above the jaw on the spot where her lips always land, and then she’s gone from my office.
Leaving me excited and befuddled and worried that she’ll pull back on me again.
I LEAVE CAMPUS AN HOUR early so I can stop by the grocery store and pick up something to make for dinner.
I’m a decent cook since I was preparing food for Mom and me from the time I was eight years old. I buy chicken and vegetables to roast, and then I come home to get everything ready.
I text Courtney to tell her that dinner will be ready by seven.
I’m really hoping that her stopping by my office and wanting to have dinner is a sign that things can go back to the way they were between us, that this strange distance I’ve felt for the past few weeks is going to go away.
I still don’t understand why it happened. I really hope I’m not the one who messed things up between us. Maybe she sensed that I secretly want more out of our relationship. Maybe that’s what made her take a step back.
I need to assure her that nothing has changed.
That’s my plan for the evening.
She arrives at six forty-five, knocking on the door before she unlocks it and comes in.
“Oh, that smells good,” she says with a warm smile as she comes into the kitchen. She looks fresh and pretty in snug black pants and a moss-green top that cinches under her breasts and shows a lot of cleavage.
My body takes immediate note of how soft and curvy she looks in that outfit. “It’s almost ready. You changed clothes.”
She glances down at herself. “Of course I did. I felt hot and sweaty and wanted to put something else on. This is definitely not a work outfit. I’m not going to go to work in a shirt that shows this much of my boobs.”
“I didn’t think so. That’s why I noticed you changed.”
“Is something wrong with how I look?” She appears a little annoyed, and I have no idea why.
“No! You look great. I just didn’t know why you looked so nice.” For just a moment it occurs to me to wonder if she changed into that sexy outfit for me.
She looks back down at herself, and her cheeks flush deliciously. She isn’t meeting my eyes.
“Courtney?” I ask, a rasp in my voice. “What’s going on?”
“I’m kind of... embarrassed.”
I take a step closer to her, my heart leaping ridiculously. “What are you embarrassed about?”
She takes a ragged breath and finally looks up. “The truth is, I do have something to tell you.”
“You do?” My racing heart feels like it’s throbbing throughout my entire body. I can feel it in my toes and my fingertips. With great effort, I keep my voice and my expression composed.
She opens her mouth and closes it again.
“Courtney?”
“I’m sorry.” She rubs her mouth with her hand a few times before she continues. “This is hard.”
“This is me, Courtney. This is us. You can tell me anything.”
“I know. I know. But this is different. The thing is, I think I’ve changed my mind about some things. About... about...”
“About what?”
“About romance. I think I might be... ready for it.”
The throbbing of my heart has now consumed the entire world. I can barely see through my blurred vision. “You have?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s... that’s good.”
“I think so.” She darts a quick look up at me and then drops her eyelashes again.
I can still feel tension coming off her, like she’s still holding something back on me. Like she’s worried about my reaction. And I realize that there’s more to it than just her turning a corner and opening herself up to possibilities.
I suddenly understand what she’s afraid to tell me.
I see why she’s pulled back from me for the past few weeks, why she’s been so distracted, standoffish.
Why it feels like something has changed.
Why it feels like I might be losing her.
Because I am.
She’s got someone in mind, someone she’s interested in.
And she’s afraid that I’m not going to like it. She thinks I’m going to respond badly to the news.
Maybe she does know what I’ve been keeping a secret from her for so long.
I can’t lose her over this.
I won’t.
“So there’s a guy you’re interested in?” I ask as lightly as possible.
“Y-yeah.”
My heart plummets into my stomach at the confirmation of my worst fears. “I thought you weren’t hooking up with guys much anymore.”
“I’m not. It started feeling kind of... icky. Not like it was wrong but like I was doing it for the wrong reason, if you understand what I mean.”
“I do.” I felt exactly the same way about the dating I was doing, which is why I stopped.
“This is different. I’m actually interested in... in this guy seriously.”
A wave of sickening heat washes over me as my suspicions are confirmed, and I’m afraid for a moment I’m going to vomit. I was about to open the oven to check on the food, but now I just hold the handle with a white-knuckled grip.
She’s interested in a guy. Seriously. She’s open to romance at last.
It changes everything.
For me as much as her.
“Oh,” I say, trying to sound casual, like she’s not ripping my heart from my chest. “Lucky guy. Is he interested in you too?”
She blinks a couple of times and peers at me, and I’m afraid she’s going to read how devastated I feel, so I fight to keep my bland composure. “I... I am hoping.”
“I’m sure he is. That’s good. That’s good. I’m happy for you. And him—whoever he is.”
I should be happy for her, but I’m mostly shocked and sickened for me.
It’s a purely selfish response, but I can’t seem to help it.
She shoots me one more quick look, one that almost appears confused, and then she turns around and opens one of my drawers, fumbling for a corkscrew before she begins to open the wine she brought.
I stare at her straight back, her lushly rounded ass, her stiff shoulders, and I’m afraid I’m not doing a good enough job in hiding my response.
I’ve got to do better.
I’m not going to stand in the way of this for Court
ney. We’ve come so far together, and I’m not going to discourage her from making these last steps.
I suck in a lungful of air and blow it out. “This is good. You should definitely move forward. So who is he?”
She’s smiling as she turns back around, the cork from the wine bottle in her hand. She opens her mouth, but nothing comes out.
“You’re not going to tell me?” I’m still focusing on keeping my hands relaxed and my breathing even.
“Of course I will. Eventually. But it’s all so new it makes me nervous. I don’t want... I don’t want everyone up in my business.”
I hadn’t thought I was everyone.
I would have thought she’d at least let me know who the guy is who has finally broken through the defenses she’s kept around her heart for years.
One tiny, stupid part of myself used to dream it would be me.
“Okay.” I’m almost choking on the word, but I don’t want her to see. I’ve got to care more about what’s good for her than I care about me and my broken heart. “So are you going to go out with him?”
“I want to. But I’m kind of scared, so I was...” Something resolves itself on her face, but I don’t know what it is. It’s like she’s come to a decision. “I was actually hoping you might be able to help me.”
I lean over to look into the oven so she can’t see my face right away. “How am I supposed to help?”
“I’ve never dated before.”
“Yes, you have. You just didn’t call it dating.”
“What I’ve done before is different. I’ve never been out on a real date. And... well, the truth is I’m terrified. I want to get it right with this guy, and I don’t know if I can do it.”
This is torture.
Like something devised from the cruelest of nightmares. I’m not sure my legs are going to hold me up for much longer.
I’m able to focus enough to see that the chicken could use a few more minutes, so I close the oven and go to sit down on one of the stools at the bar. After I take a couple of slow breaths, I say, “I’m sure you can do it. You’re great with people, and if you know and like this guy, it’s going to come naturally.”
“I don’t know.” She comes over to sit down on the stool next to me. “I thought maybe... but now I don’t think so.”
