The Glue

by Webster, K

  She scrunches her flour-dusted freckled nose at me. “I hired you to pour coffee and take money so I could work on marketing.”

  I reach forward and take the cookie from her hand, letting my own hand brush against her smaller one. “Well, until the customers are lined up at the door to buy your coffee, I’ll help you with the new marketing plan.”

  She once again blows on her hair. “You’re just going to swoop in and save the day, huh?” Her hair falls back in her face. I love how seemingly messy she is. Slightly frazzled. It’s adorable.

  I lean forward and brush her hair from her face and tuck it behind her ear, enjoying the way her skin turns bright red at my touch. Her body is so receptive. Makes me eager to get to know it better. I wonder how red I can get her pale flesh with my mouth.

  “I’m going to save the day,” I agree, my voice low as I stare at her plump lips. “If you’ll let me.”

  Her lashes flutter against her cheeks. “I want you. I’ll let you.” Her words are breathless.

  Smiling, I swipe the flour off her nose. “Then I will.” I drop my gaze to her mouth again and lick my lips. “I’ll do it now that you’ve agreed to it.”

  Our eyes meet and hers are hot with understanding.

  We’re not simply talking about a job here.

  We’re talking about everything.

  “How’s the new job going?” Dad calls out as I walk past his office.

  I stop and peek my head inside. “I love it.”

  His features are normally hard and stoic, but my stepmother softens him in all the right ways. The corners of his eyes crinkle as he smiles at me. Dad doesn’t smile too much, but when he does, I see myself in him. “A barista, huh?”

  I lean my shoulder against the doorframe and grin. “Barista slash baker slash marketing extraordinaire.” I’ve gone into Vale’s coffee shop two afternoons in a row. This afternoon, after my third class with Professor Jerkoff, it will make a third afternoon in a row. Spending all evenings watching Vale bend over and grab things from lower shelves is the highlight of my day. The woman has the most perfect curvy ass. She put me to work right away and was shocked at my ability in a kitchen. I think it made her more excited because she stopped acting nervous and after two days, talks my ear off. I flirt with her nonstop and she flirts too. “It’s a great job.”

  Dad lifts a dark brow as he scrutinizes me. “Who is she?”

  I rub at the back of my neck and shrug. “Who?”

  “The girl who has you all up in knots. Who’s the girl?” His steel-blue eyes that match my own twinkle with pride. “Better yet, when do we get to meet her?”

  Laughing, I shake my head at him. “Whoa, man, you can stop writing out the wedding invitations. She’s just beautiful and funny and sweet. I’m trying to get to know her right now. Not pushing anything.”

  He gives me a knowing smirk. “You know Ava is going to go crazy the moment she finds out you like someone. Just warning you. Be prepared to bring her to dinner the minute you’ve gotten to know her.”

  “Got it.”

  I slip out of the house and stride out to Dad’s old Lexus. He got a new Land Rover recently and gave me his old car. It’s still badass and I don’t have to make payments on it, so I’m happy. I’m just climbing inside when my phone rings. I don’t recognize the number.

  “Hello?”

  “Mr. Blakely.”

  A beat of silence.

  Heat rushes up my spine and warms my flesh. “What’s up, Mr. Young?” How in the hell does Professor Jerkoff have my phone number?

  “We need to meet up so I can discuss what I need help with. Are you free today?”

  “I’m headed to work, but I’ll be off around eight.”

  “I’ll be on campus still. Come to my office after work,” he instructs, his deep voice gravelly and bossy as fuck.

  I can’t even lie that it doesn’t get my dick hard.

  “Got it.”

  “Okay then,” he grunts.

  Click.

  No bye. Nothing. Fuck, he’s such an asshole.

  I turn the engine over and speed out of our neighborhood. At least Vale is fucking nice. Spending time with her is awesome. I’m lost in thoughts of her tight leggings and pouty lips that the drive goes by in a flash. When I pull up out front, I’m the only car in front of the building. The place looks sad as fuck. It’s a shame. Vale really is a good cook.

  I get out and hurry inside. The bell chimes, but she doesn’t holler from the back like usual. It bothers me that anyone could sneak inside here and get her. She’s completely oblivious. I stalk to the back and find her sitting on a stool talking on the phone. Her bottom lip is wobbling as tears streak down her apple cheeks. Crossing my arms, I stare at her, waiting for her to get off the phone so I can lay into her for not being safe.

  “Who is she?” she breathes, accusation in her tone.

  Whomever she’s talking to starts yelling on the other end and she tenses.

  “Okay, I’m sorry,” she mutters. “I know. It’s fine. Forget I said anything.” Then, she huffs. “Bye to you too.”

  She stuffs her phone in her apron and then jolts when she notices me standing there.

  “Anyone could have walked in and taken advantage of you,” I grumble, walking over to her.

  She rolls her eyes and stands. “Don’t you start too.”

  I clench my jaw but don’t say any more on the matter. “Come here.”

  Surprisingly, she lets me pull her into my arms. My giant body dwarfs hers, but it feels right. She hugs me tight and sniffles.

  “Bad day?”

  She laughs humorlessly. “Each day gets worse and worse.”

  “Want to talk about it?”

  “No. I want to escape it.” She tilts her head up and looks at me. Her plump, juicy lips part as her glittering green eyes regard me.

  I could kiss her. I sure as hell want to. My dick is at attention and there’s no doubt she doesn’t notice. But I’m not like Anthony. He’d have her naked and fucking her against the freezer to cheer her up. I’m wired differently. I’d love nothing more than to fuck my new boss, but something tells me that won’t help lift her spirits. Sure, maybe for those few blissful moments as she screamed my name. But then what?

  We have to start with what I came here for.

  I press a kiss to her forehead. “Let’s talk shop then. I researched a bunch of shit in class today.”

  She laughs and her eyes sparkle with happiness. Yes, this is what I like seeing from this beautiful woman. Happiness I put there.

  “Shouldn’t you be paying attention?” she challenges with an arched brow.

  “And let the coffee shop go under?” I ask in faux horror. “Absolutely not. Reviving this place is my new mission in life. I’m going to help you.”

  “Thank you,” she says, grinning.

  We spend the next few hours on my computer mapping out ideas and brainstorming. She helps all three of the customers who come in. Vale is a natural with people. It’s too bad more people didn’t get to meet her.

  “Is there a reason why you have those hideous things?” I gesture to the gaudy curtains across the windows.

  “Hideous?” she shrieks and runs over to them. She pets them and grins. “They’re beautiful.”

  “Lies. They’re horrible.”

  Her lips pout out, but I won’t budge on this. “I made them.”

  Okay, so maybe I can budge.

  I stand and walk over to her. The urge to touch her is strong. I settle for grabbing her hand to help soften the blow.

  “This isn’t 1997.”

  She gasps. “Asshole.”

  I smirk and squeeze her hand. “They have to go. Now.”

  She groans and complains as I stand on a chair to start pulling the curtains from their rods. Once they’re all gone, I gesture to the windows.

  “Now, they can see you.” I walk over to her and stand close. I like her scent. “They need to see you.”

  Her head tilts up
and she smiles. A blush creeps up her throat. An unruly lock of her hair falls across her eye. Gently, I raise my hand and brush it away before tucking it behind her ear. I let my palm linger and run my thumb across her jaw bone.

  “Aiden,” she breathes, her lips parting.

  “You’re the best thing about this place,” I murmur, my gaze focused on her pouty lips. “They need to see you.”

  Our eyes meet again and hers are glassy. Whatever had her upset earlier today has her lip trembling and tears threatening. One leaks out and I swipe it away with my thumb.

  “I’m going to help you fix things,” I vow.

  She swallows and nods. “I need the help. God, do I ever. I’m falling apart.”

  I open my mouth, but then her phone is ringing from the back. She pulls away as if waking from a dream and scurries off. When I glance at the clock, it’s fifteen after eight.

  Fuck.

  I follow her to the back and she’s arguing with someone on the phone. I toss her a wave and then I’m rushing to campus. It’s nearly half past eight by the time I arrive. The parking lot is empty aside from a black Tahoe.

  Not a great way to start my meeting off with Professor Jerkoff. I climb out of my car, ignoring the cold bite of the wind, and hustle to the building. It’s warm inside and the halls are dark aside from light coming from an office down at the end of the hallway. I trot down to his office, ready to barge in, but stop short when I realize he’s on the phone.

  “Fuck, woman. Do you need proof? Seriously, it’s ridiculous. I’ll see you in an hour.”

  He slams his phone down on the desk and curses. His chair creaks and I bite back a groan. The last thing I want to do is deal with a doubly pissed off professor. I could slowly back away.

  “You’re late,” he says coolly from inside his office.

  Fuck.

  No escaping now.

  He curses from the hallway and then appears in the doorway. My eyes, against their wishes, rake over his handsome appearance. His dark hair is messy and windblown. A rosy pink from the chilly air has colored his cheeks. And those lips.

  Goddamn him.

  Those lips are pouty as fuck. Apparently I have a thing for full, kissable lips. My downfall every time.

  “Sit,” I bark out harshly in an effort to hide his effect on me. I’m in no place to be getting aroused by a student. As if my life isn’t complicated enough.

  His brows furl together and his jaw clenches as though he barely holds back what he wants to say to me. I let my eyes roam over his clothes. A dark gray hoodie that fits his biceps a little snugly and dark, holey jeans. He wears the same black Vans I’ve seen him in each time. As he sits in the chair across from me, I adjust my semi erection discreetly and lean back in my seat. He scratches at the stubble on his cheek before pinning me with a smug half smile.

  “Sorry. Got tied up at work.” His blue eyes flicker as though the memory of work is more preferable than sitting with me. At least one of us enjoys his job.

  “If you’re going to be my TA, I need punctuality,” I growl.

  His eyes narrow. “Then you have the wrong guy.”

  Our eyes lock for a heated moment and I tug at the knot of my tie to loosen it. I need to get laid. Maybe this bullshit attraction to my male student will go the fuck away. I haven’t felt physically drawn to another person—another male—since before I was married. Back then, I slept around with guys more often than women, so it was a little surprising to myself that I married a woman.

  Married.

  That is the big problem.

  You’re supposed to get married and only have eyes for one. You get to fuck your best friend whenever you want. People don’t tell you that sometimes, your best friend gives up on you. Or that sometimes, you disappoint your best friend. They sure as fuck don’t tell you that the very things that bring other couples together are what could drive mile-long wedges between your own relationship.

  “Professor?”

  I grit my teeth and shake away the thoughts of my crumbling marriage. My wife hates me. Sure as hell doesn’t trust me. And we’re about three arguments away from divorce. Which is why I’m feeling weak these past few days and letting my eyes wander to the man who oozes sex appeal and has made my office ten degrees warmer just by being in it.

  Clearing my throat, I shake my head at him. “Call me Vaughn. At least when not in the classroom.”

  “Okay, Vaughn,” Aiden says, his gravelly voice sending pulses of excitement straight to my dick. “What are we here to talk about?”

  This office is too fucking hot. I jerk away my loosened tie, shoving it in my drawer. Then, I unbutton the top two buttons. Aiden’s steely gaze is sharp and focused on my actions.

  “I’ll be giving you the test key, after you’ve taken your own tests of course, after each exam. I’ll need those graded promptly and brought back to me the following day. As for the weekly assignments, I will want you to grade those as well. I’ll be using my time preparing for my lectures. You’ll be given a key to my office to come and go as you please to get what you need. I have a locked drawer you can put the graded assignments in. On certain occasions, I may need to meet up with you the night before so I can get them.”

  His brow arches. “Will there be a lot of evening meetings?”

  Again, I adjust my annoyingly hard cock and drag my stare away from his hot one to the window. “Perhaps. I need you available.”

  “And I need you to remember I have a job I very much enjoy. A job I don’t want to lose. As long as you understand my life doesn’t revolve around helping you, I’m good,” he grumbles.

  “A temporary job. The whole point of college is to get a better job that makes more money,” I snap back, irritation surging through me. “I’m doing you a favor. You get one-on-one help from me essentially whenever you need it and it looks good on your résumé.”

  He laughs. “You sound like my dad.”

  “If I were your dad, I would’ve whipped your ass for being a smart aleck.”

  His eyes widen and his nostrils flare. “Good thing you’re not my dad.”

  A groan rumbles from me and I run my fingers through my hair, ruining the gel. I’m tired and stressed the fuck out. And now I’ve crossed a line by cursing at my student and saying inappropriate things.

  “I’m sorry,” I hiss out. “I’ve just had a bad day.”

  “And I’ve had a good one,” he says, his voice husky. “Until now.”

  I stand from my seat, no longer okay with being trapped behind my desk, and pace the small office. My cock is still aching in my slacks and presses against the fabric. When I sneak a look at him, he’s fiddling with his shoe lace, not looking at me. I walk over to the window and stare out at the empty parking lot.

  I used to be eager to send my last student from my office and then hurry to meet my wife for dinner. Now, I make up excuses to stay away. I can’t handle the continuous tears. The anger. The constant look of disappointment in her eyes.

  I’m good at a lot of things, but I’ve fucking failed her in so many ways.

  Especially one.

  Probably the most important one of all.

  The chair creaks from behind me as he stands.

  “If that’s all, I’m going to head out. I need to get home and study,” he says.

  I turn and he’s standing too close. Just as tall as me. Lean and muscular. A handsome, youthful face. He’s every bit like those Abercrombie models I see on the walls when my wife drags me into the store in the mall. Fuck if he doesn’t smell like that store too.

  “That’s all. We’ll be in touch,” I grit out, my eyes falling to those kissable lips once more.

  I would never cheat on my wife, but hell if I don’t wonder what those lips taste like. As if clued into my thoughts, he licks them. His blue eyes blaze with intensity.

  “See you around, Vaughn.” He winks at me.

  Then, he turns on his heel and saunters out of my office, leaving me with a full hard-on and disgust at mys
elf running through my veins.

  I pull up to our midtown bungalow nestled near downtown and park on the street. I watch my wife as she flits about in the kitchen. There’s a pep in her step that reminds me of the beginning. Back when we were so fucking in love.

  Now?

  She hates me.

  She hates everything I am and everything I’m not.

  I see it in her expressive eyes that shine all too often with tears. The never-ending tension in my neck has me rubbing away the pain. It matches the pain in my chest. I want to fix us. I just don’t know fucking how.

  Like a creepy-ass peeping Tom, I climb out of my Tahoe and stalk over to the windows. She’s smiling. Always so pretty when she smiles. Her round ass shakes as she dances to the music that plays through the kitchen speakers. Justin Timberlake or some shit. I don’t care what it is…it makes her happy. She’s never happy anymore. I stare at her ass as she wiggles it, standing at the kitchen island and flipping through a recipe book.

  My cock is hard, but it’s my heart that seems to thrum back to life. She’s so playful in this moment. If I could shed some of this bitterness, I would go in there, sneak up behind her, and hug her from behind. I’d rub against her and whisper dirty shit in her ear. I would strip her down and fuck her over the island. Like old times. For a moment, hope burns inside of me. Would she accept me?

  Of course she would.

  She’s my wife.

  With newfound determination, I stalk around to the back door. I walk inside and dump my messenger bag on the bench by the door. Then, I stride into the kitchen on a mission. After four months of no sex, I’m going to fuck my wife. I’m not sleeping on the couch for the third week in a row. I’m going to fix this.

  The moment her attention snaps to mine, her curls bobbing at the action, her smile falls. The glimmering in her green eyes dulls. Those sultry, pouty lips press into a firm, disappointed line.

  “You were out late,” she says softly.

  An accusation.