The Truest of Words

by Georgina Guthrie

  Aubrey and I looked at each other blankly.

  “Aaron O’Connor, that’s who,” he said.

  I couldn’t conceal my shock. “What? Why the hell—?”

  “I don’t have time to explain. He’ll be here any minute.”

  “Speak of the devil,” Aubrey murmured, her eyes trained on the door.

  “Let me handle this.” I looked at my dad calmly. “Trust me, it’s all good.”

  He sighed and adopted his best genial smile, turning to the door and holding up a hand. O’Connor sauntered over.

  “Well, Daniel, twice in one day,” he said.

  “Mr. O’Connor, you know Aubrey Price, of course?” I gestured across the table to her, and she gave him a tight-lipped smile.

  “We’ve met on a couple of occasions now. Nice to see you, Aubrey.” He raised an eyebrow at me. “So? Making nice with the enemy?”

  I laughed abruptly, taking in my father’s confused expression.

  “I guess you could say that. Martin and I ran into Aubrey in the Arbor Room earlier. I felt bad about those evaluations you showed me this morning, so I invited her to join me for a coffee—an effort to bury the hatchet properly, I suppose you could say.”

  Aubrey nodded her agreement, and O’Connor looked at her with interest. My father followed suit.

  “And?” Aaron said, cocking his head.

  “Daniel has been most apologetic. I’d say the hatchet is duly buried.”

  “That’s excellent news.” O’Connor looked at my father. “You must be happy to hear this, David?”

  “I’m thrilled, of course.” My father smiled, playing along before turning his attention back to O’Connor. “Well, shall we?”

  “We were just finishing up.” I pushed my chair back and flashed a quick glance at Aubrey.

  My father squeezed my shoulder. “Enjoy your day, son. Aubrey, I’ll see you next week at convocation. Have a nice visit with your mother.”

  “Thank you, sir. See you then.”

  Aubrey wrapped her hand around the strap of her bag as they walked away.

  “Do you think he bought that?” she whispered.

  “I sure hope so. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

  She nodded, almost vaulting out of her chair, and we made a speedy departure.

  “Holy shit,” she muttered through clenched teeth as we dashed toward the exit. “I’ve never taken to scotch, but today could be the day.”

  On the drive home, Aubrey trained her eyes out the window, her hand clasped in mine. I was interested to know what she was thinking, but I let her be. If her scattered thoughts were anything like mine, coherent conversation would be nearly impossible. I mean, what the fuck was my dad doing having lunch with Aaron O’Connor? Was he certifiable?

  As I drove, I cursed pedestrians and sighed with exasperation at red light after red light. By the time we were back at my building, my nerves were frayed. Inside at last, we dropped our bags, slumped against the door, and sighed with relief.

  “Safe?” she asked, her hand gripping mine tightly.

  “I’d say so.”

  “Scotch?”

  “Fuck, yes.”

  I went straight to the liquor cabinet, pouring us both a healthy shot. Though Aubrey wrinkled her nose as she brought the glass to her mouth, she drank it in one gulp. I followed suit, chuckling as she grimaced and shuddered.

  “How do you drink this stuff?” She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

  “Another?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Aubrey knocked back a second shot, this time expelling a loud satisfied sigh to stave off the shudder. I downed mine and held the bottle aloft.

  “I’m out.” She put the bottle and my glass on the shelf, then stepped into my arms and dissolved against me, all soft and vulnerable and sweet. “Hey, sailor.”

  “Hey. You okay?”

  She nodded into my neck. “Getting there. How are you doing?”

  “I’m a bit of a wreck.”

  Clasping my face, she searched my eyes. “What can I do?”

  “It’s sensory overload. I don’t want to think any more today. Let’s forget about the world for a while.” I kissed her. “Can you help me with that?”

  She nodded, wrapping her arms around me and fitting her body against mine in all the right places.

  “I think I know the precise remedy for sensory overload.” She stood on her tiptoes and brought her lips to my ear. “You need to be fucked senseless,” she whispered, looking up at me as if she couldn’t believe what she’d said.

  I just about lost my shit, a surge of raw lust igniting every nerve in my body. I lifted her, almost ripping her dress as she circled my waist with her legs and pressed her hot little panties against my stomach. We kissed feverishly while I half-walked, half-stumbled down the hall, stopping occasionally to push her to the wall to regain my balance. Somehow she managed to tear my T-shirt over my head and was fumbling with the button on my jeans as we passed through to the bedroom.

  I lowered her onto the bed, and she pushed down my jeans and boxers. Before I knew it, her beautiful lips were around me, drawing me deeply into her mouth. She moaned and sighed as if there was nothing in the world she’d rather be doing, and I sent up a silent prayer of thanks for having Aubrey in my life.

  All I could do was slide my hands through her silky hair. A door slammed shut in my brain, as if the chaos of the day had been left in a room at the end of a long hallway.

  “Aubrey…that feels…so fucking amazing…”

  It actually felt too fucking good. After a week of celibacy, I was ready to explode. I gently pushed her away.

  “I need to pace myself.” My voice tight was tight with the effort of holding back. “Come here.”

  Kissing her shoulders, I tugged at the dress’s zipper, trailing my fingers down her back. Inch by inch, her creamy skin was exposed. She slid the straps over her shoulders, and the dress fell to the floor. I devoured her body with my eyes.

  “God, you’re sexy.”

  She pressed against me, and I captured her lips, teasing her scotch-laced tongue with mine. Instead of dipping my fingers inside her panties, I tickled my way across the small triangle of fabric. She squirmed and whimpered against my lips, her eyes reflecting raw desire.

  I’d wanted to draw things out, to touch her and tease her first, but who was I kidding? She was soft and warm, and impossibly wet. A fucking oasis is what she was, and I needed her—now. I tugged at her panties, and she slipped them off, nudging me toward the bed and waiting for me to lie back before crawling up to join me.

  “Where do you want me?” she asked, trailing wet heat along my thigh as she moved against me.

  “Where don’t I want you?”

  I held her eyes with mine as I lost myself inside her. She moaned with seductive abandon, allowing me to turn her this way and that, happily contorting herself into every conceivable position while I slowed every few minutes to kiss and caress her, coaxing several orgasms from her and willing myself to delay my own climax for as long as possible.

  When I thought my head might implode from the sheer effort of holding back, I finally acknowledged my body’s frantic need for release. After a few decisive thrusts, she pressed her hands to my chest.

  “Daniel, stop…”

  “Am I hurting you?”

  She shook her head and pushed my shoulder, urging me onto my back before climbing atop me.

  “I thought I was supposed to be fucking you senseless.”

  Jesus Christ.

  She rocked and circled her hips, her hair falling wildly across her face. She was incredible. No bells and whistles, no fucking gizmos required. Just watching the movements of her gorgeous body as we made love was pure bliss. I sat up, wrapping my arms around her. I was probably squeezing her too hard, but I was lost, slick heat and friction taking away all sense and logic.

  “Oh God, I can’t,” I gasped out.

  She brought her lips to my ear and whisp
ered, “Come on, Daniel. Come for me.” Her words swept me away, and a searing wave of relief flooded my body. I clung to her, breathless, my eyes watering from the intensity of my orgasm, and then I collapsed against the pillows.

  With her cheek on my chest, she curled around me, making sweet little purring sounds while I waited for the world to come back into focus. At last she stretched her legs out and buried her face in my neck.

  “Aubrey?”

  “Mmm?”

  “That was hot as hell.”

  “Yeah?” she said shyly.

  “Um…yeah.” I chuckled. “Seriously.”

  She smiled and tickled my scruff with her fingers.

  “I wanted to help you forget your stressful morning—that awful meeting with Aaron.”

  “Meeting?” I sighed. “What meeting?”

  “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

  “That’s an understatement.”

  “Wait till you see what I’ll do after a second date,” she said, giving me a dirty grin.

  Aubrey

  Chapter 18

  A Convenient Courtship

  Be merry, and employ your chiefest thoughts

  To courtship and such fair ostents of love

  As shall conveniently become you there…

  (The Merchant of Venice, Act II, Scene viii)

  AFTER A LATE LUNCH of pizza and chicken wings, Daniel retreated to the office to call his father while I paced, waiting for him to finish. I couldn’t bring myself to believe that the lunch date was a sign of impending doom. Daniel’s meetings with Aaron and Professor Brown had gone well. Was I foolish to think we were finally free to share our love with the world beyond the confines of the condo?

  Not that I don’t enjoy the times we share here…

  I smiled, picturing the disbelief on Daniel’s face as I’d slung my leg over his shoulder in bed earlier. I suppose the scotch had loosened up my limbs and my tongue. I was still grinning like a smitten school-girl when Daniel emerged from the office.

  “Well?” I said.

  “Guess who’s no longer in a relationship with Elaine Armstrong.”

  “Get out! Aaron and Elaine broke up?”

  Daniel joined me, leaning his elbows on the breakfast bar.

  “And he’s moving to the Mississauga campus. It’s a lateral move from what my dad could gather. He doesn’t want to work down here anymore in case he runs into her.”

  “That’s crazy. He’s seen the light, I guess.”

  “Seems like it.”

  “So he won’t be your TA advisor anymore.”

  “Apparently not.”

  “Huh. So, what was the lunch meeting with your dad all about?”

  Daniel frowned. “‘Unfinished business,’ my dad called it. He said he’ll tell me more later—something about not wanting to get my hopes up. He assured me there’s absolutely nothing for us to worry about.”

  “Your dad loves being cryptic, doesn’t he?”

  “I think he’s trying to help me with something. I’m just not sure what it is. They talked about us, and my dad told him he was pleased to see us putting our petty disagreements behind us because the family thinks so highly of you, of course.”

  “Your dad’s quite the storyteller, just like his son.”

  Daniel shrugged. “I’m beyond worrying about who had to lie to whom.”

  “Then everything’s okay? We’re good to go?”

  He took my hands in his, eyes twinkling. “I think it’s full steam ahead.”

  “I can’t believe it.”

  He nodded. “It’s about time something went our way.”

  I’ll say.

  With the arrival of the North by Northwest music festival, June promised to be a busy concert month. I told Eli I’d be out of commission while my mom was in town, in addition to being unavailable two of the festival days because of Daniel’s birthday. Gwen was planning a small get-together at their house the night before his birthday, leaving the next day open so Daniel and I could celebrate alone.

  To compensate for my lack of availability later in the month, I was covering four concerts in the next six days—a grueling schedule for a newbie, but I needed to learn how to write under pressure. I was reading an email from Eli and jotting the concert dates on my calendar when Daniel wandered into the office. I drew his attention to the email, and he peered over my shoulder to read it.

  “Is Eli going with you to these shows?”

  “No, this is all me.”

  “We’ll have a busy week, then,” he said, stepping back and looking at me levelly.

  I knew that look. He was bracing himself for a fight.

  “What do you mean we’ll have a busy week?”

  “The Mod Club, Lee’s Palace, Sneaky Dee’s—Tattoo Rock Parlour? You think you’re going to these clubs by yourself while I stay home folding laundry?”

  “Daniel, I think you’re—”

  He pinched my lips shut with his finger and thumb and shook his head. “No arguments.”

  I mumbled a muffled protest against his fingers.

  “Sorry, this isn’t open for discussion. If I let go, promise me you won’t argue?”

  I rolled my eyes and nodded. He released my lips.

  “Sunshine, I think you’re overrea—”

  Again, he cut off my words, resuming the clamp.

  “When you took this job, you promised to let me help. I’m buying tickets for these shows. They’re all general admission, right?”

  I nodded again, feeling like a moron with him holding my lips like that.

  “So, I’ll come along to make sure you don’t get trampled or accosted. Deal?”

  I pulled his fingers away from my mouth. “Okay. Deal.”

  I considered pointing out the foolishness of him spending money to facilitate me having a job, but he’d just brush off that concern with a flippant wave of his hand. Something about my expression must have told him I wasn’t finished pleading my case because he put his hands on his hips and sighed.

  “You can’t be angry with me for wanting you to be safe. I won’t interfere with what you’re doing. I’ll take pictures or something. But I’ll be there in case you need me.” He tipped my chin up. “Besides, this will give us an excuse to spend more time together in public. Think of this week as a pre-convocation whirlwind courtship. We’ll roll with the punches if we see anyone we know.”

  There was no point disagreeing with him. He wasn’t budging.

  “All right.” I stood and curled into his embrace. “I suppose I will feel better having you there. Thanks.”

  “Don’t thank me. Just stop being so goddamn stubborn.”

  “I can’t,” I mumbled against his chest. “It’s in my genes.”

  “And to whom do I owe thanks for this genetic obstinacy, your mother or your father?”

  “Both.”

  “Super. Double DNA stubbornness. The worst kind.”

  “Whirlwind courtship” was an interesting term, one I’d always thought of in the context of a royal couple—the prince sweeping his future princess off her feet, jet-setting off to Paris, dazzling her with diamonds, and maybe surprising her with a holiday on a secluded island.

  My pre-convocation whirlwind courtship with Daniel took place in restaurants and noisy bars along College, Queen, and Bloor Streets—not exactly the royal treatment. We had a great time, but by the end of the week, I considered starting a spreadsheet to record which Toronto clubs were least likely to have toilet paper in the women’s washrooms.

  Though I’d griped about Daniel joining me at the concerts, we ended having a hell of a lot of fun. Seedy-dive-bar-Daniel was slightly unkempt and reluctant to shave. Dr. Hobo came back to town with a sexy vengeance, and I couldn’t help seeing the bright side of him tagging along when tattered jeans and threadbare concert T-shirts were part of the deal.

  As promised, he took pictures, documenting our horrendous meals and snapping shots of the venues and the bands. We cajoled some friendly p
atrons into taking some photos of us, and soon we had a scrapbook of dive-bar memories stored on a memory card.

  On the nights of the concerts, we stayed out late, showered together when we got home, made love in the middle of the night, and woke whenever our eyes grudgingly opened. Every afternoon, we’d write at our desks, Daniel working on his Hamlet analysis while I sat on the other side of the room, frantically penning reviews. By seven o’clock in the evening, we’d start all over again—another restaurant and another venue.

  By week’s end, we were wiped, and though I loved the writing and the concerts, not to mention my dates with Daniel, I couldn’t deny my exhaustion. On the Monday morning after the last of the four concerts, I woke up with a terrible case of cottonmouth and a curious vibrating sensation in my ears.

  I dragged my ass out of bed and found Daniel on the couch in the living room, his laptop open in front of him, listening to music through ear buds as he typed. When he saw me, he closed his laptop and pulled the ear buds out.

  “How long have you been up?” I asked, crossing to give him a good morning kiss.

  “A few hours. I couldn’t sleep any more. No clue why.”

  “It’s not like you to work out here. And I can’t believe you were listening to music. My ears are ringing like crazy.”

  He shrugged. “I wasn’t really working. Just goofing off. I’ve been Facebook chatting with an old friend from UCC. We’re trying to set up a game of golf.”

  “That’s great news, sunshine.”

  He pushed his laptop aside, gathering me in his arms.

  “Why don’t you seem more excited?” I asked him.

  “I am. I guess I’m worried about Jeremy. I’ve texted him a few times since he and Julie moved into their new place, but I haven’t heard anything back.”

  “Daniel, I’ve spoken to Julie three times this week. They’re fine.”

  “I know. It’s just…” He sighed, staring over my shoulder.

  “Do you want me to call her again?”

  He looked at me hopefully. “Would you?”

  I gave him a quick kiss and headed to the bedroom to retrieve my phone. Julie answered on the first ring.