At This Moment

by Karen Cimms

  Billy had done them all. It was no secret; women were always looking to fuck someone in the band. Even for a guy like him who never had trouble getting a date or any woman he wanted, it had been a bit overwhelming at first.

  Over the past few years, he had played out several times a week. Most nights, someone was there to take care of his basic needs—sometimes more than one girl a night, depending how he was feeling, and sometimes more than one girl at a time. Usually all they asked for was a guitar pick to remember him by. There had been hundreds of women, and the future promised more of the same. He had no interest in settling down. Not now, maybe not ever. It was easier this way. No strings. No attachments. Besides, he was having fun.

  So then why, knowing he had a long way to go before he was ready to settle down—if he ever did—why couldn’t he stop thinking about her?

  Did he owe her something because he’d taken her virginity? Some misguided sense of decency? He’d been with plenty of virgins, although probably not since high school.

  He’d been careless, too. He’d never encountered a college girl who wasn’t on the pill, but he’d never gone without a condom. Too risky. But this had been Kate’s first time, and he was afraid if he stopped to wrap up, she’d have changed her mind. He wouldn’t have forced her, but he wanted her, and not just because she was willing and available. He’d just . . . wanted her. She was all soft curves and wide-eyed innocence. And her smile. It started in her eyes. Then the corners of her mouth quirked up. By the time it spread over her face, he was smiling, too. It was contagious. And dangerous.

  He’d tried to keep it casual when he dropped her off. Maybe too casual. Maybe he’d hurt her feelings.

  Although he turned on the lights and turned up the heat when he got back to the motel, the room felt as if the life had been sucked from it. The sheets lay jumbled at the foot of the bed. He saw a flash of arms and legs, felt silky chestnut hair fall like rain across his chest.

  “You’re losing it,” he said aloud, determined to lay this particular ghost to rest.

  He picked up his guitar and played mindlessly, until he realized he was playing the same silly tune he’d shown Katie that afternoon. He put the guitar away and picked up his dog-eared copy of Ulysses, but all he could think of was her wacky analysis of the book.

  He reached into his pocket for the number the waitress had given him. It was almost ten. She said she would be getting off about now. He wouldn’t even have to pick her up.

  “Fuck this.” He crumpled the paper and threw it into the trash.

  If he was smart, he’d pack his shit up and check out. He should’ve left this morning, taken Katie back to her dorm and said good-bye. There was no reason for him to be there, and if he wasn’t so damned tired, he’d leave now. But since he’d already had to pay for three nights—which more than ate up what he made Friday—he might as well stay.

  He smoked a bowl and finally felt himself beginning to relax. But as soon as he turned out the light, she was back. The sheets had the faintest scent of sweet citrus. Clementines. That was it—she smelled like clementines. He imagined her lying there just beyond his reach. He rolled to the far side of the bed, punching his pillow in frustration. Before long, he was back, cradling her pillow in his arms, losing himself.

  First thing tomorrow, he was getting the fuck out of there.

  Chapter Six

  Kate expected an earful from Toni, so she was glad her roommate wasn’t around when she returned. She changed into her pajamas, brushed her teeth, then stretched out on her bed with Beowulf to reread it for the hundredth time—and wonder for the hundredth time why she’d taken British Literature. She’d thought she’d be reading Jane Austen and the Brontë sisters, not work from the Middle Ages. It was her own fault for not reading the syllabus. She wouldn’t make that mistake again.

  Tribes, wars, and mythic heroes were not her cup of tea, to be British about it. Her favorite hero of literature was Mr. Darcy. But the lord of Pemberley that came to mind now was not the Mr. Darcy of her teenage dreams but one with golden hair and blue-gray eyes. She closed her eyes and imagined herself back in Billy’s arms—the softness of his lips, the scent of his hair, the warm tingle of his touch on her skin.

  She jerked awake as her stuffed tiger landed on her head. Opening her eyes, she squinted up into her roommate’s irritated face.

  “Spill,” Toni demanded.

  She wiped her eyes, trying to clear the cobwebs.

  “What time is it?”

  “Ten thirty. Start talking.” Toni dropped heavily onto the foot of Kate’s bed.

  “I’m not sure what you want me to say.” She shrugged. “I already said I was sorry.”

  “Not that. What happened? Did he, ya know?” The corner of her mouth quirked up. “Did you?”

  Kate hoped her face didn’t give her away.

  “Oh my God! You did.” Toni slapped her arm. “You little hussy.”

  She shook her head. “No. It wasn’t like that.”

  “So you didn’t have hot sex with the hottest guy on the planet?”

  “Um . . .”

  “Exactly. Hussy.” Toni threw her head back and laughed. “I can’t believe it. Good for you. Damn, girl.” She leaned forward, lowering her voice. “How was he?”

  Kate’s cheeks were burning. “Toni!”

  “Hey, appropriate went out the window when he had to carry you out of the pub Friday night.”

  Kate shrugged.

  “How many times?”

  “Stop!”

  “That many, huh?”

  There was a good chance her cheeks might melt right off her face.

  “You gonna see him again?”

  Fingering the faded and frayed collar around the neck of her childhood toy, she shook her head. Growltiger had seen her through a lot. Of course, a banged-up heart might be more than a stuffed tiger could manage.

  Toni looked at her like she’d lost her mind. “Why not?”

  “Because. We both know what that was. It wasn’t a date. He’s a musician, remember? I bet he has plenty of girlfriends. Besides, I don’t even know where he lives, and he didn’t ask for my number or anything.” She shrugged, trying to sound casual. “It was just a . . . a one-night stand.”

  “Well, that kinda sucks.”

  “Not really. It was very . . . memorable.” She forced a smile. “I’m okay.”

  She wasn’t. Not really. But she would be.

  Toni was asleep when Kate woke the next morning. She rose quietly and dressed in the shared bathroom down the hall, then headed for the common area. Finding a sunny spot near the window, she finished Beowulf with a quick Hail Mary, praying she’d retain enough of it to pass her test. If she hurried, she’d have just enough time to grab a cup of coffee.

  Sunlight glinted off deep piles of snow lining the sidewalks. She trudged along, head down, wishing she’d remembered her sunglasses while she tried to mentally sort out Grendel, Hrothgar, and the various Danes, Swedes, and Geats. She’d gone about a half-block when she heard someone call her name. Shielding her eyes, she peered across the snowy quad.

  A light breeze lifted Billy’s hair. Dressed in black and framed against the snow, he looked like a movie star.

  “Morning,” he said when he caught up to her.

  She stared up at her distorted reflection in his mirrored sunglasses, clueless as to why he was there or what to say.

  “Hey.” Well, that was clever.

  “Need a lift?”

  “Not really. My class isn’t that far.”

  “Can I walk with you?”

  “Yeah. Sure.” She jammed her sweaty hands into the pockets of her jacket.

  The temperature had risen since Sunday, melting any snow remaining on the sidewalk. She picked her way over the puddles.

  “Nice kicks,” Billy said of her red Converse. “No stiletto boots today?” She laughed and shook her head. “What class are we going to this morning?”

  We? She pointed across the street.
“There. The Murray building.”

  He rested his hand against the small of her back as they crossed.

  “So,” she said, feeling completely unnerved, even though less than twenty-four hours ago she’d been tangled up naked with this man. “What’s up?”

  “Not much.” He looked down as a smile tugged at his lips. “You?”

  “Oh, you know. Same old, same old.” Talk about the cat having your tongue.

  Kate couldn’t help but notice the looks other girls gave Billy as they passed. In the three months she’d been on campus, she’d never seen anyone command such attention, not even the football players. Billy moved through the crowd like he was already a rock star.

  By the time they got to the steps outside Murray Hall, she decided she had no idea what he wanted, and she was beginning to think he didn’t either.

  “So.”

  “Wanna have lunch?” The question popped out so fast, it seemed as if the idea had just occurred to him.

  “It’s not even nine o’clock,” she said, laughing. “But lunch would be good. Around lunchtime.” Billy had an unnerving effect on her, and it seemed as if she might be having a similar effect on him. He acted almost tongue-tied.

  “Where can I find you?”

  “Right here, around twelve fifteenish? I have another class after this. It should be over by then, depending how much my professor loves hearing his own voice.”

  “Noonish it is.” As he leaned down, she lifted her face, but all he gave her was an innocent brush on the cheek. Still, it made her melt inside. He gave her hand a quick squeeze, then strolled back down the sidewalk to George Street.

  “Well, I’ll be damned,” she said softly.

  Billy had no idea what he was doing or why—at least none he was willing to admit, even to himself. He should be home by now. Instead, here he was, planning to spend another night in New Brunswick.

  There was something about Katie he couldn’t shake. It had been a long time since he felt a connection with anyone. What harm could there be in spending some time with her? Get to know her outside the bedroom. Maybe the attraction would fade. While he appreciated a good time in the sack, he had little patience with women who couldn’t hold a conversation. Pete wasn’t much for deep thoughts, and the people he met on the road were either all business or all pleasure. Besides, he was leaving tomorrow and wouldn’t have another gig near here until the end of December. It wouldn’t hurt to spend a little time with a nice girl for a change.

  Back at the motel he practiced for a bit. He changed his strings, even though they didn’t need changing, and when it still wasn’t time to leave, he collapsed on the bed and watched sitcom reruns until after twelve so he wouldn’t seem overanxious. He was already behaving out of character, and he didn’t like not having the upper hand. What he hadn’t counted on was lunch-hour traffic. It was nearly twelve thirty when he pulled up. Kate was nowhere in sight. He was hurrying up the sidewalk as she burst through the double doors.

  “Oh my God,” she cried. “I’m so sorry. My professor just wouldn’t shut up. I hope you weren’t waiting long.”

  He felt foolish for plotting a late arrival. Kate didn’t possess one ounce of pretense. When she smiled at him, he felt the same weird, exposed feeling he’d had in the club when they first met. And when she reached up onto her toes and pressed her lips against his, he began to think it might just be game over.

  The pizza joint Kate suggested was bright and loud. Students filled the tables and booths. After laying claim to a rickety table in the back, Billy ordered a pitcher of beer.

  The waitress took one look at Kate and frowned. “And for you?”

  “Diet Pepsi.”

  He looked away to hide his smile. What the hell was he doing with a girl who wasn’t even old enough to drink? When the waitress had taken their order and left them alone again, he asked how she’d done on her test.

  “Beowulf?” She rolled her eyes. “Who knows?”

  “Really? I liked it. I read it in college.”

  Her eyes widened. “Where’d you go to college?”

  “Don’t sound so surprised,” he scolded, grinning as color crept into her cheeks. “University of Kansas. I was a music major, but I minored in English. I went for a couple years. I even had a scholarship, but I couldn’t afford it after—” He caught himself in time. “I just couldn’t afford it. I made enough to support myself playing, and since music was what I wanted, I quit.”

  “That explains your love for Beowulf and Joyce,” Kate said. “I mean, I’m an English major, sort of, but I’m no fan.”

  “If you want to be a writer, you better get on board with the classics.” He lifted his eyebrows as he brought his glass up to his lips.

  “Yeah, yeah,” she said. Then keeping a lookout for the waitress, she reached forward and hijacked a sip of his beer.

  They split a thin-crust pizza, half pepperoni for him, half veggie for her, although she barely finished her second slice. She did manage to sneak enough beer to get a little buzz and was feeling pretty brave when they stepped outside, so when Billy asked if she had any other classes that afternoon, she lied and said she didn’t.

  “So you’re all mine?”

  “All afternoon and into the evening,” she said, hoping he’d take the hint. He didn’t answer. He just smiled as they walked along Bartlett Street, his hands jammed into the pockets of his leather jacket.

  They walked in silence for a while. Kate leaned hard to the right, bumping his arm. They took a few more steps. She did it again, this time much harder.

  “You’re gonna find yourself in a snowbank in about two seconds,” he said.

  She swung her hip into his thigh, taunting him. “I dare you.”

  Before he could react, she spun toward him and grabbed the collar of his jacket, stretched up onto her toes, and kissed him. His fingers snaking through her hair, he deepened the kiss until she felt boneless.

  “Don’t start anything you’re not about to finish, little girl,” he whispered before letting go.

  She staggered backward, trying to catch her breath. “Who said I won’t finish?” It would have sounded much sexier had she not squeaked the words out.

  He reached for her hand, threading his long fingers between hers. He planted a gentle kiss on the inside of her wrist, then he asked for a tour of the campus. She wasn’t expecting that, not after that kiss, but being with him again was more than she could’ve hoped for when she woke that morning.

  They walked up to Kirkpatrick Chapel, then to the Old Queens building. On their way back to College Avenue, she led him over to Still Bill.

  “William the Silent.” Billy read the name engraved on the statue’s base. He cocked his head. “What’s his deal?”

  “Legend is you can hear him whistle if a virgin walks past.”

  “Damn.” He burst out laughing. “You mean we just missed out on a whistling statue?”

  Her cheeks burned. “No. It has to be a woman in her senior year. That’s supposedly why he’s remained silent all these years.” She couldn’t help but wonder if she hadn’t met Billy whether she might have been the first to make Willie whistle.

  Still laughing, Billy settled his hands along her hips. “Doesn’t matter. I wouldn’t trade the last couple days with you, even if old Bill would climb off that pedestal and tap dance while singing the ‘Hallelujah Chorus.’”

  “Really?” she asked, skeptical. “That’s quite an image.”

  “Really.” His eyes dropped to her mouth. She thought he would kiss her again, but he didn’t. He just cleared his throat and asked where they were headed next.

  Back to his motel was where she wanted to go, but instead she led him toward the Alexander Library, where she pulled him into a dark corner of the graduate reading room. There he didn’t hesitate. He kissed her up against the stacks until they were interrupted by some uncomfortable throat-clearing. After that, she declared the tour complete.

  “What do you want to do now?” h
e asked as they walked along College Avenue. The sun hung low in the sky behind them, reflecting off the taller buildings downtown.

  She wasn’t sure how to suggest what she wanted to do without sounding exactly like the hussy Toni had accused her of being. They walked in silence for a bit.

  “Well?”

  She looked up at him with a shy smile. “Maybe we can . . . um . . . go watch TV or something.”

  “I think we can do that . . . or something.”

  They went at each other as if they’d been apart for months, stopping only long enough for Billy to untie her sneakers and yank them off so he could get her jeans out of the way. Afterward, while she finished undressing, he pulled out his stash and filled his pipe. Then they made love again, more slowly this time. She reveled in how alive each kiss, each touch made her feel.

  “Oh, Katie,” he groaned as he collapsed beside her. “What have you done to me?”

  She didn’t have a clue, but that didn’t stop her from feeling pleased with herself.

  “Will you stay with me tonight?” he asked, brushing his lips across her temple. Tired and content, she’d been trying not to think about her eight o’clock sociology class or her unfinished paper. She nodded, closing her eyes and losing herself in the peppery scent of lemongrass.

  He looped an arm across her chest and curled into her. “I’m leaving tomorrow. I have to get home and repack, then I’m heading to Pittsburgh in the afternoon. We’re there for a few nights, then on the way back we’re booked in State College, Scranton, then up to Vermont for a few days. I’ll be in New York the day after Thanksgiving.”

  All her wonderful feelings came to a grinding halt.

  “I won’t be back this way for a while.”

  No words came to her. She’d known him for three days. Last night, she’d been convinced she would never see or hear from him again. Now, it felt as if a large hole had opened up inside her.

  “Katie?” He lifted up onto one elbow and looked down at her.