Lessons In Love: An Older Man, Younger Woman Romance

by Arlo Arrow

  The night had raced by and she was sound asleep.

  Ms. Hawthorne . . . she was going to be a problem.

  Chapter 5

  Cecilia

  The morning sun filtered through the wooden blinds of my room's large window. I allowed my gaze to lazily spill across the room as I debated trying to get another hour of sleep.

  The bed was so soft, and it didn't make me feel hot or sweaty like the dorm mattress. The temperature was just right.

  I shifted in bed and hugged my fluffy pillows. In this room, I was a princess. As a matter of fact, that was how George made me feel—like a princess. Then I remembered how he’d touched me yesterday, and I felt heat gush in my cheeks and in my panties.

  I sat up in bed, full of energy now, and slipped out to see if my clothes were dry yet. In my robe, I tiptoed down the hall.

  The sounds of pans clinging and oil popping were accompanied by the fresh aroma of bacon and eggs. Wow, was that George cooking? I peeked around the corner and saw him hammering away in the kitchen, flipping eggs and preparing toast as the bacon cooked in the background.

  I went over to the dryer and my clothes weren't in there.

  "Well, good morning. You sure are quiet," he said behind me, scaring the crap out of me.

  "Oh! Good morning to you too."

  My robe fell open slightly, and I yanked it closed. The side of his mouth went up in a coy grin.

  Oh, my.

  "Um, my clothes?" I said, trying to regain the sense of speaking English.

  "They've been ironed. I'll go get them."

  He went down the hall and I stayed by the dryer. He soon came back with my clothes.

  "Here we go, nice and dry."

  "Thank you!" I reached out and grabbed them. Our hands brushed against each other and it was like electricity. Not the static kind of shock, but a heart jolting, warmth in your chest feeling kind of shock.

  "Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes. Get dressed and come eat."

  I flew back into my room and got dressed and made sure my hair was presentable.

  Slowly, I entered his living room and walked over to the dining room where fresh juice and a plate of bacon, eggs, and hash browns with toast were waiting. The portion size was perfect.

  People assumed that I ate very little because of my small frame. Please, a high metabolism kept me small. I could out-eat a man.

  I glanced at his door and remembered how Ms. Hawthorne came in yesterday, accusing him of seeing me. I knew that lady had rubbed me wrong.

  "Maybe I should go," I said, turning to George as he was finishing making himself a plate. "You've done enough for me already."

  "No, don't go. Please, eat. It's nothing, really."

  The firmness in his voice made me obey. He had this pull over me that I couldn't shake.

  George sat down right next to me and bumped me with his arm in a friendly way. It made my cheeks burn, and I gave a nervous giggle.

  "I won't be there long," he began.

  "Where? Here?"

  He took a bite of his food and washed it down with some orange juice. "The university. I'm only teaching for one semester."

  "Why?"

  He looked at me and searched my eyes for something. Secrets. I didn't like those.

  "You'll learn soon enough."

  And for some reason, that was all he had to tell me to satisfy me . . . for now.

  "So, how do you feel? About us?" he asked, keeping his deep-set handsome eyes on me. I burned under his scrutiny, feeling the butterflies escape my stomach and flutter into my chest.

  "Well, um." He got me on that one. I didn't know what to say. One side of me was screaming hell yeah, and the other was screaming be careful. "I don't mind. I just don't want you in trouble. Ms. Hawthorne, she—"

  "Don't trouble yourself about her. She can be dealt with," he said, exhaling.

  My phone that I had left on his coffee table rang, and I got up to see who was calling. It was Alison.

  "Hey, Alison, I can't stay on the phone for long. Did you need something?" I asked.

  "Need something? Girl, you went missing and there are floods all over town! I thought you drowned or something! I was worried," she exclaimed.

  "Oh, I'm sorry. Things just got . . . busy for me. I went to visit my parents and got caught up. I'll be back later today," I said, looking at the clock on George's wall.

  It was ten thirty a.m.

  "Good, get back here soon. I want to talk to you about someone."

  "Are you crushing on someone again?"

  "Aww, come on, don't be like that. I have such varied taste!"

  I sighed. "You sure do. Talk to you later!"

  We hung up, and I turned to see George behind me.

  "Everything all right?"

  "Yes, for now."

  "For now?" he asked, holding a glass of orange juice.

  I glanced at him and saw not just my professor, but someone like a father figure. It didn't creep me out, especially with what we’d almost done. But George felt like someone I could rest my concerns on. I wasn't used to doing that. My parents were good to me, but my father had always kept himself busy.

  "Cecilia? Are you okay?"

  I was staring at the flooring and took my gaze back up and looked at George. "I'm fine. Just thinking."

  "You looked sad for a second. Here, come back and finish your food. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. You can't function right without it."

  He took me by the arm and grinned as he ushered me back to the dining room table.

  Home. This felt like home.

  But no, I couldn't really savor that warm, comfortable feeling. My family was too poor to do that. We struggled, and I’d made the decision to go for law so I could have a secure future. But how secure could something be if you didn't like it at all?

  George placed his hand on mine and squeezed it. "Tell me what's on your mind."

  "Well, it's school. I want to study English as a major, but we all know how hard it is to secure a job in that field. Then there's the fact that my scholarship will only pay for—what am I saying? I shouldn't unload all of this on you."

  I hung my head down and took a bite of toast.

  "Goodness, Cecilia, you must be stressed if you're eating that toast without butter," he said, grinning to lighten my mood.

  A small chuckle escaped me.

  Being here with him was the highlight of my month—no, wait—my year. Maybe even my life.

  "I'll leave. I know you have a lot of stuff to do—"

  "Cecilia, the university is closed. I just got the notification on my phone. The rain yesterday caused several areas to flood. Why don't you stay here?"

  "You don't mind? I mean, it's not like I drive. I can always swim back," I teased, forcing a smile.

  "Funny. But seriously. Stay. I could tutor you some more and you'll be good for the rest of the semester," he boasted, digging back into his plate of breakfast.

  I smiled. "Good, I could use that."

  I wondered . . . did he think of me last night? He almost took my virginity, yet he was being so cool, calm, and collected.

  Older men were like that, so mature and laid back unless they were the crazy kind.

  George. He was special. How was he even single?

  "George, are you married?" I asked.

  He cocked an eyebrow and swallowed the rest of his food down. "Of course not. I wouldn't have almost had my way with you if I were married. Monogamy is synonymous with loyalty. A true art and moral code."

  A fluttering feeling shook me to the core. Such words. Was he a math teacher or a literature teacher?

  "Wow, when you put it like that . . ."

  George got out of his seat and held out his hand for me to take. "Come, let me show you something."

  Lucky me. I had more time to appreciate the soft, cool plush carpet between my toes. His hand was warm and strong as it tugged me down the hall to his bedroom.

  Oh God, were we going to try i
t again? My body sizzled, and I felt like a rabbit about to scatter off in the opposite direction. But then I reminded myself that I wasn’t an immature brat anymore. I was twenty-two, and I needed to act like it.

  Then he took me past his bed and out through his double glass doors onto a lovely balcony. I didn't know they had apartments built this nice.

  "Wow! Beautiful!" Trees and flowers were everywhere. These apartments had a nice view for their tenants that overlooked their garden and park area. I saw where some of the small streams that went through the park had risen over onto the land.

  "Yes, indeed. We'll tutor out here if you'd like."

  "Yes!" I yelped. Quickly, I threw my hands over my mouth for such a childish outburst.

  Now I was going to begin liking math more than I liked law.

  "George, where's the rest of your family?"

  The question was so sudden. But he didn't seem like the type to be so alone like this. He had a big apartment and not even a dog to his name.

  "Ah, some are in California and some overseas. I don't talk with them much because they are busy running their own companies. We make sure to meet up with each other at the end of the year so we can make sure we're all okay and chat for a while. How about yours?"

  We sat down at his outdoor table set. The seats had good cushions on them.

  "Well, I have a small family. It's only me, my father, mother, and one brother. He's in the military and tries to make sure he keeps us afloat moneywise. What companies do your family run?"

  He looked off to the sky and thought about it. Was it that he didn't want to tell me? Was it too personal?

  "Well, one is the co-owner of Buccino Motors."

  "I love their cars! I read the monthly magazine for cars and see them all the time!" I chimed. "My friend, Alison, always said that my love for cars made me a tad tomboyish."

  "Not at all."

  We spent a few minutes quietly taking in the serene surroundings. Birds sang their songs, the sun shone brightly, evaporating the excess of water, and squirrels scampered up trees with nuts stuffed in their mouths.

  This was the life that I wanted to secure for my family. A life where we could have many moments like these. Moments to enjoy life and relax. Bills would be a minuscule thing to deal with instead of life-altering decisions.

  George Dent mirrored the life and the man I wanted. He was that perfect package. And that perfect package wanted me.

  Though I didn't know if this would be possible. No matter how much he wanted to keep me around, no matter how much of our bodies we might share, he was still my professor, and being around me was dangerous to his job and reputation.

  I could ruin this life of comfort for him.

  All of this would be destroyed, and then what? He'd look at me with anger and regret.

  Our relationship was good where it was. Teacher and student.

  Right?

  George glanced my way again and caught me staring at him like he was the moon.

  "There you go again, staring off. You have so much on your mind that you're not sharing." My stomach rumbled. And he heard it. "And you're still hungry too. Come on, let's get something in that small belly of yours."

  George pushed himself out of his seat and I followed like a love-struck kitten.

  This whole experience was going to leave me spoiled. Returning to the dorm wasn't going to be the same after feeling a real mattress and showering in a full shower.

  Maybe this was the motivation I needed to refocus my mind on law so I could have this life.

  "George, I'm going to stick with law!"

  Chapter 6

  George

  "Really?" Young ones these days. She had the zest to go forth and do whatever she wanted. Yet, Cecilia didn't want to pursue law. Why did she push it?

  Oh, the scholarship. I've never had to struggle, so I didn't know the importance of sacrificing something to achieve security.

  She made me feel guilty for pursuing my inheritance. But then, she'd probably get more stressed if I dropped it for her.

  Our relationship was fragile like thin glass. There was a lot she still wasn't telling me. That was me when I was young, the one who kept it all in and did what was best for everyone around me, excluding myself.

  "Yes. I want this. I want to put my family in an apartment like this and watch them breathe in peace and comfort as they look over their balcony . . ."

  She trailed off and looked at the floor again. She dove into another bout of deep thoughts. It must've been the doubt speaking. I went to her and placed my hands on her shoulders, giving her some of my confidence. Seeing Cecilia waver like this between happiness and worry didn't bode well with me.

  Even though I had papers to grade, I looked over at the clock and did some calculations. I had four hours to burn and a down Cecilia to cheer up.

  "I have an idea!" I said, pressing my thumbs into her shoulders like a small massage. "I think I have something to cheer you up. Let's go."

  I slipped my hand in hers and guided her to the front door when she stopped and looked at me in horror.

  "Wait, it's daytime. What if Ms. Hawthorne is lurking around? What if—"

  "Cecilia, stop. I can take care of her. Plus, where we're going isn't too close to here. It's a fifteen-minute drive, and most people who even work at a university wouldn't be able to afford to go there and shop anyway."

  I held her hand with both hands now and allowed my stare to fall steadily on her face.

  "Stop worrying. You'll grow more gray hair than me," I cautioned, throwing her a smile. She was still my student, and that meant I had to take care of her even more.

  I grabbed my car keys and took Cecilia down to my car. The inside of the elevator reminded me of when I’d held Cecilia, cold and shaking in my arms from the hail and rain that drenched her.

  Friends. She kept saying things about friends. What damn friends?

  My teeth began to gnash, and I forced myself to slap a grin on my face so I wouldn't scare Cecilia.

  "Where are we going?" she asked.

  "Out."

  "Well, I know that, but where?"

  "It's a surprise," I said, opening her side of the car. Today, I decided to take something other than the vehicle Ms. Hawthorne recognized.

  “Wait, isn’t this . . . a Bentley?” Cecilia chimed. Her eyes lit up, and it wasn’t just because she knew she was riding in an expensive car.

  She did it because she had an appreciation for fine things.

  Damn it. Why the fuck did she have to struggle? Someone as beautiful as her shouldn’t be struggling.

  "The windows are very black. You must like tinted windows, don't you?" She hovered around the Bentley like a curious butterfly, in awe of its massive structure.

  "I do. But more importantly, it helps keep the inside cooler if I ever decide to park my car in hot weather, which this place gets pretty often." I pushed my car remote to unlock the car doors and turned it on.

  The roar sent shivers through my body. More importantly, I was giving Cecilia something to be happy about. Having her around me was a breath of fresh air.

  "Jump in," I said, opening her door.

  She ran her eyes all through the inside before slipping in like a piece of silk. I closed the door and went to my side, looking around the parking lot to make sure Ms. Hawthorne or anyone else suspicious wasn't lurking around.

  I laughed off my concern, hopped into the Bentley, and sped off to the entrance. Cecilia smiled as the force of the car pushed her back against her seat.

  "Cecilia? Where's your seatbelt?" I asked, stopping before I turned out of the garage. "Seatbelt, please."

  "Oh, yes!" she agreed, snapping her seatbelt on. "The leg room in this car is amazing. I knew it was good, but to experience it . . . it's perfect!"

  I drove to the highway, experiencing light traffic on the way. Cecilia kept glancing around, trying to figure out where I was whisking her off to.

  "Where are we going again?"

&nb
sp; "It's a surprise."

  The traffic was from the lack of available roads. Fortunately, our destination had a clear, dry path.

  Which was a good omen. But no path was without its bumps.

  When I stopped at the second stoplight, Cecilia let out a sharp gasp and ducked in her seat.

  "What's wrong?" I looked through her window and saw Ms. Hawthorne in the car next to us. She wasn't looking over here, but it was too close for comfort for Cecilia.

  "You don't think she's following us, do you?" she asked, holding her wrist. She pushed her seat straight back and closed her eyes so she could breathe calmly.

  "The windows are black, Cecilia. Come back up."

  She shook her head no.

  I pushed a button and her seat sat back up straight. I grabbed the back of her neck and landed a kiss on her forehead. A part of me dared Ms. Hawthorne to see. Hell. I almost rolled the fucking window down.

  But this was much better.

  The light turned green, and I gunned toward the highway, my hand resting on Cecilia's lap with her hand right over mine.

  We were still on track. For her pleasure, I took down the top and allowed the wind to whip through our hair while I sliced down the highway in the Bentley.

  Making someone happy never felt this good. Was there ever a time I’d made someone happy?

  "Today, we're going shopping," I said, leaning over to her as I parked the car in a spot near the mall entrance.

  "Wait, I don't have much money and I have to budget—"

  "Did I fail to mention this was my treat?" I said, putting my finger to her lips.

  Her cheeks flushed red, and she kept quiet, nodding her head in understanding. I cut off the car, and we both got out.

  There were some crazy teenagers speeding around in two Lamborghinis near the main entrance. Cecilia stepped out to get across the street and I pulled her back.

  The teenagers yelled something inaudible and sped out of the mall. It sounded like a different language, maybe Russian.

  Cecilia was shaken and held onto my chest as I held her in my arms. She was a gentle flower, her petals resting in my care.

  "Thank you . . . again. How many times am I going to thank you?"