Yet, he’d been extremely careless where this was concerned, giving no thought toward how deep into it they’d both become, or what he’d have to face today … other people’s speculations. He’d put them at further risk by not seeking a solution.
His phone buzzed. Lydia.
Friday, she said.
He hit reply, once more, anxious to see her and unable to stop. Wear something pretty. We’re going out. But … Aarin raised Angela’s invite in one hand and tossed it in the trash. Not to a party.
Still running from Marianne’s comments, despite the fact she was half a campus away, Lydia didn’t hear Karen calling until her hand snaked around her sleeve. The sudden pressure slung her to an awkward stop, her breath coming too fast, her heartbeat pounding.
“I’ve been trying to catch up with you,” Karen said. “We need to talk. You got a minute?” She didn’t wait to see if she responded, however, but looking this way and that, tugged her a short distance into an empty doorway. Here, she faced her where she could see who came and went. “Have you seen him …?” She paused.
Heat flooded Lydia’s face, and Karen’s gaze widened. “Wow. Lydia …”
“Don’t judge me. Why does everyone judge me?” Marianne. Now, Karen, who she’d successfully avoided over the last week.
A minute passed in uncomfortable silence, then Karen sighed, her weight shifting to one hip. “Have you ever considered that the one judging you is … you?”
“It’s only nine years!” she replied. Too loud.
Karen hushed her with a shushing noise. “Nine years isn’t so much,” she repeated at a low volume, “but he’s your …” She cut her statement off, seeming to reconsider her words. “That’s not why I wanted to speak with you, not really. You know, though, that if we weren’t here and he was any other person I wouldn’t care two cents. I’d even be jealous. But because of who he is … Look, I’m going to make a suggestion, and it’s going to sound crazy. But hear me out.”
Karen inhaled deep, wiping one palm on the fabric of her blouse.
“First, I’m sorry for ever introducing you to Scott.”
This coming out of left field, Lydia’s brow furrowed. What did Scott have to do with anything?
“For that matter, I’m sorry for dating Dalton. I won’t get into it,” Karen said, “but he’s a real … never mind, I shouldn’t call people names except he’d deserve that one. Let’s just say it involves a certain male body part.”
Lydia wanted to giggle, but didn’t. Karen was entirely serious.
“Anyhow, Scott’s got it in for you since, as he says, you ‘ruined his night’.”
“I ruined it?” Lydia shot back. “He spent hours and hours talking about some online RPG game and I thought I’d lose my mind!”
Karen hushed her again. “I know that. Trust me. But … you know Marianne asked me who you were seeing?”
Lydia nodded, but, again, wondered how that tied in with Scott. “She said you wouldn’t say and … thanks.”
Karen offered an edgy smile. “I promised … but my point is, Scott’s been hanging out with her crowd. I’m sure she doesn’t mean you any harm. From her perspective, she’s just being nosy, but he heard her say that you’ve been away a lot and given your date flopped …” Her thought faded.
Given it flopped, he’s angry. Lydia caught the gist. But she still didn’t see how it mattered because Marianne didn’t know who it was to tell him anything. And he should be over it by now.
“Which brings me back to what I’m going to suggest and the reason why I’m going to suggest it.” Karen shuffled her feet. “I was leaving psych and overheard Professor Reed talking to someone, I’m not sure who as I could only see her back and not the other person at all. But whoever it was, she told them that … he, and she called him by name, was seeing a student. She was almost sure of it.”
Lydia’s stomach cramped, the discomfort spreading down her limbs.
“If the college finds out that you and him …” Karen let the thought hang. “He’ll lose his job and any chance of getting another one. It’s sexual harassment, according to college guidelines. Don’t misunderstand me, I get it,” she said, her gaze softening. “You’re in love with him. It’s all over your face. And I can’t say how he feels about you, whether it’s honorable or not …” She held up one hand, palm outward. “That isn’t an insult, so don’t take it that way. But the truth is going to come out … and really soon. Scott told Marianne he was going to follow you the next time you left and see where you went.”
Friday. Lydia gulped.
“And Professor Reed is trying to ferret out who you are. It won’t take much because I imagine admin knows you two were working together and your picture was in that newspaper. I went and got a copy after I heard the talk on campus. I can tell it’s you, and if I can, then so will others eventually. Lydia … you’ve got to go home.”
“Go home?” Lydia reeled. Lightheaded, she steadied herself, one hand on the side of her face. “I … can’t.” She blinked. She had classes, goals … Aarin.
“You can. I’ve looked into it. You can take most of your subjects online. It’s only a matter of speaking with Student Counsel. If you do that, it’ll put distance between you, and hopefully, the whole thing will die.”
“But …”
Karen shook her head. “No ‘buts’. If you’re valuable to him, he’ll find you. The distance won’t matter, and you’ll both have time to think this out. But if you stay here, both of your futures will go up in smoke, and I just can’t see you letting that happen. Lydia, I’m asking you to do the right thing … for yourself, but also for him.”
Go home. Because staying would make a bigger problem. But he’d said he’d fix that, only he hadn’t. Why? He wanted to be with her too badly. Was she really the stronger person? And if she walked away, would he search for her?
She didn’t know the answers, but was confident of one thing. He wanted to take her somewhere Friday and until then, she wasn’t going anywhere. He deserved to see her before … Lydia focused. Before what? Was she seriously considering taking Karen’s advice?
“I have a date Friday,” she said.
Karen puckered her lips, her brow drawing tight.
“You can’t possibly ask me to give that up and disappear on him. I deserve to say …” Goodbye. Tears pushed at her eyelids, threatening to fall.
Karen released a long breath. “Don’t do that,” she said. “I know it hurts right now, but it’s for the best.” She tucked her thumb in the pocket of her jeans. “If you want to see him Friday, I’ll help you. An hour before you need to go, we’ll leave together in my car. We’ll drive off campus; go to the shopping center maybe. I can call a cab to bring me back. Heck, I can even walk from there. Then you take my car.”
“You won’t need it?”
Karen shook her head. “You need it more. There won’t be anything to follow then, and you can relax and enjoy yourself. But Lydia, make sure you don’t forget what’s at stake. If you and he are meant to be, then it’ll happen and it’ll be right and I’ll be happy for you. But going about it wrong will only destroy everything you’ve both worked for.”
She was right, but the decision hanging over her made the next few days the hardest Lydia had ever had, and Friday night feel like the end. She believed Aarin cared for her, believed all their raw emotions were real, and hoped it’d lead somewhere special. But there was no way to know without first walking away.
Her mind cast back to that first night when they were trapped in his house during the rainstorm. She’d spoken lightly about the sunshine, not realizing how very painful it’d be surviving the storm. “I owe you,” she said.
Karen reversed from where she’d been standing, and Lydia stepped out at her side.
“That’s what friends are for,” Karen replied. “If it’d been me, I know you would have done the same.”
Probably. But then, it wasn’t.
CHAPTER 9
Marianne’s gaze
followed her to the door, the heat of it whisking up her spine, and her face calm, her heart hammering, Lydia grasped the knob, determined to leave with some form of dignity.
“Date tonight?”
Lydia glanced over her shoulder, a frown forming. “Do I look like I’m dressed for a date?” She motioned toward her cut-offs and wrinkled t-shirt. Not waiting for an answer, she opened the door.
Marianne’s response floated out the opening. “Have a good time.”
The door slid closed, and Lydia exhaled. The tension between them had grown over the last couple days, half of it probably because she worried about Scott. She hadn’t seen him at all, but had figured she wouldn’t. He wouldn’t want her to know about his plan and would, therefore, stay low-key. Marianne, on the other hand, remained curious, though she’d made it clear she wasn’t going to ask anything directly.
Releasing her thoughts, Lydia made her way down the hall to Karen’s dorm room, relieved to see her.
Karen, a plastic shopping bag over her arm, smiled, tight. “You ready?” she asked.
Lydia nodded, and they descended the stairs together.
“Did … you see anyone?” she asked, after they’d pulled out of the lot.
Karen nodded. “Scott, sitting in his truck, but he didn’t follow since it was me and you.” She nodded toward the shopping bag in the back seat. “Your dress is in there. You can change in the fast food place’s bathroom if you want.”
Leaning her neck back on the seat, Lydia nodded once. She would change at Aarin’s, but then, she’d have to explain why she didn’t have the dress on; and she refused to draw him into the drama with Scott and Marianne. For that matter, she’d decided not to tell him anything that was going on. If she left, which more and more seemed like the best idea, she didn’t want him involved.
Thought of leaving saddened her, as it’d done since Karen suggested it, and Lydia mashed one hand to her waist, willing herself to relax.
She wasn’t sure if Aarin would try to stop her, but figured it’d be better to go without his having any knowledge of it. Otherwise, he’d feel like he’d ruined her college years. And her plans had changed, but she’d never regret her time with him. Nor would her leaving alter how she felt.
Somehow, she’d tell him that, though more and more it looked like she’d have to put it in writing. That sounded horrible. How could she possibly convey all he meant to her in a few written words? Nevertheless, saying it to his face was out of the question. She just wasn’t strong enough.
Karen pulled up to the local burger place and parked by the door. Inside the restroom, Lydia changed into her dress, a simple buttery yellow tank top number, and a pair of low heels. Wadding her shorts and sneakers into the shopping bag, she exited, meeting Karen’s gaze, and on impulse, gave her a hug. “Thank you for this.”
Karen compressed her shoulders and reversed. She brushed Lydia’s hair with her palms. “No problem. You’re coming back tonight. Right?”
Lydia nodded. “Not that it’ll be easy, but another overnight will make me doubt everything all over again. I …” She swallowed. “I know you’re right. I also know I can’t tell him. He wouldn’t stop me from going, I don’t think. He’s too good for that. But it’d give him a lot of guilt, and I think he carries enough as it is.”
Yet his guilt hadn’t helped him make any choices where they were concerned, and asking herself why she could only conclude that her leaving was the only solution to the problem they’d created.
She and Karen exited the bathroom, continuing down the narrow aisle toward the front.
Karen halted a few feet away. “I think I’ll sit and have a bite to eat, waste some time. Maybe Scott will give up on watching, and I can return to the dorm in peace.”
Offering another hug, she turned aside, and Lydia made her way out.
She dropped her bag of clothes in the floorboard. Ten minutes later, she pulled up to Aarin’s place, the peace she’d tried to find evaporating entirely. Over and over in her head, she kept thinking how this was the last time: the last time they’d talk and laugh, the last time she’d look in his eyes, the last time they’d kiss. But she had to do this and him not know. She had to find strength, frankly, she didn’t feel.
Or destroy a man who didn’t deserve it. Her actions, over the next few days, would save his future. Though fate had thrown them together and destiny had worked its magic in their hearts, ultimately, what happened tomorrow lay in her grasp. She wanted Aarin Kai in the worst way, but wanting him and protecting him were distinctly at odds. And letting go the best thing for them both.
Lydia stared at the thought a while longer, then grasped her purse and got out. She rounded the front of Karen’s car, taking even steps up the walk. Her knock brought Aarin to the door. He gazed past her at her borrowed vehicle, then lowered his curious gaze to her face.
“Mine didn’t crank again.” A half-truth. Technically, it didn’t crank. “This one’s Karen’s.”
His gaze cleared, and his smile arose. He leaned down and kissed her cheek, far more composed than he’d been the last time they’d met. “You look beautiful, as always.”
“Where are we going anyway?” she asked.
Patting his pocket for his keys, he stepped out, locking the front door. “That is a secret. I hope you like it.” One hand in the small of her back, he directed her toward his truck.
“Anywhere you are, I’ll like it,” she replied, her heels clicking on the concrete.
He held the door while she took a seat, but didn’t shut it right away, his gaze full of a million unanswered questions.
He looked in her direction several times as he drove, more unsure of himself every time. Not that there was anything wrong with his plans tonight, but that he’d delayed doing anything about him and her at considerable risk to them both. Truth was, he couldn’t see a solution past quitting his job, and the fact he was even remotely considering it scared him half to death.
He’d said she was worth whatever sacrifice he’d be forced to do, but leaving the college, a position he’d worked hard to get and now enjoyed, was huge. Yet, staying was faster and faster becoming too dangerous. Angela was fishing for Lydia’s name, and it’d occurred to him that maybe Lydia’s friends were doing the same.
“You and Karen are close?” he asked.
Lydia flicked him a glance. To his mind, her expression was mixed, like she had more to say. She responded simply, however.
“Yes. She’s the best friend I have right now.”
He wasn’t sure exactly how to take that and so didn’t respond. Was she fighting other students’ prying eyes? College kids could be horrible sometimes. Just over the edge of adulthood, they toed the line between teenage behavior and maturity.
“I didn’t have any friends in college,” he replied, “but then, I was so young. I spent a lot of time alone, my nose in a book.”
“You lived at home?”
He nodded. “My mom moved us, me, her, and my older sister, where I could go to the college of my choice and have my usual home environment.”
“You said, Florida State? So that’d be Tallahassee.”
Again, he lowered and raised his chin. “She rented an apartment in town, bought me a bus pass.” And he’d gone many miles on the bus, back and forth to college, alone.
Lydia pursed her lips. “Your sister didn’t mind?”
He smiled. “My sister and I were close. She’s married now, lives in Indianapolis. I hear from her on occasion, but her life consists of her husband and her kids. After I graduated, my mom moved to live near her sister in Ohio. She calls, too … usually asking why I haven’t ‘found a nice girl’.”
The comment slipped out, and he wanted to take it back, but couldn’t.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean …”
“It’s okay,” Lydia said. “You haven’t told her about me. I get that.”
He didn’t like the sound of her statement at all and for more than the content of it. She sounded … res
olved, yet as badly as he wanted to offer reassurance, Aarin found he couldn’t.
Gradually, the miles slipped past, and the subject died. He sought to relieve the awkwardness, putting on confidence he didn’t feel. “Pulled a few strings to get us in here,” he said, as they neared their destination. “I heard it’s the place to go.”
The long entrance driveway led between topiary trees to a Victorian mansion nestled at the edge of a lake. Here, early evening light reflected pink and blue off the waters, puffy clouds sailing by. Rose bushes, along the long front porch, cast frothy pink blossoms over its wooden railing, encircling a sign that read, Queen’s Bed & Breakfast, in an elegant script font. Additional lighting in the garden gave it a romantic feel, colored light along the walkway pointing to preplanned locations.
Aarin offered his elbow and escorted Lydia inside. Twisting her gaze this way and that, she took in the front hallway. Elaborately designed wallpaper and rich wood trim gave it a cozy feel.
“It’s like stepping back in time,” she said, brushing her fingertips along the stair rail.
Passing the stairs, however, he approached a long counter directly ahead. An older woman, her gray hair brushed back taut, smiled from behind a computer screen hidden beneath the countertop’s overhang.
“Aarin Kai,” he said. “I have a reservation for two.”
The woman consulted the screen and nodded. “Yes, I see your name here.” She rang a small bell, and another woman, younger, in a black uniform, appeared in a doorway on the left. “Mr. Kai is here for a seat in the rose room,” the receptionist said.
The second woman nodded and motioned them after her down a series of hallways, through a main eating area, filled with square tables draped with white cloths, and into a more intimate location facing the water. Double doors opened onto a landing, allowing in the evening breeze.
Sunshine In The Morning (Spring-Summer Romance Book 1) Page 10
