30 Nights

by Christine d'Abo

  “Sorry.” I laughed. “I don’t know why I’m nervous.”

  “I make you nervous?” He cocked an eyebrow.

  “A little.”

  “Why?”

  Oh, you know, because I totally want to have crazy-ass monkey sex with you. “I don’t know. You’re kind of intense I guess.”

  His hands fell away from me and I immediately missed their warmth. “I’ve been told that before.”

  He did walk away then and get his coffee cup. I stood there watching, because what the hell was I supposed to do after that? The can of club soda was dented from where I’d been clutching it, the sweat on the can now dripping onto the floor.

  Should I leave? Probably. What else do you say to someone after confessing to stealing sex cards from a graveyard? I took a step toward the door as he put creamer into his mug. I took another step when he slid the mug under the dispenser and pressed the button.

  Okay, so whatever it was that had happened between us was clearly over. I nodded, more to myself than anything, straightened my shoulders, and walked away.

  I’d just stepped into the hallway when he called out. “Glenna?”

  My heart did a weird flippy-turny thing as I poked my head back around the corner. “Yes?”

  “If you want,” he said with his back to me, “to bring those cards of yours back to work some Friday afternoon, I’d be interested in seeing them.”

  Oh.

  Oh my.

  “No.” I spoke the word softly, probably too softly for him to hear.

  He must have, though, because he turned his head slightly toward me and nodded. “Fair enough.”

  I’m not ashamed to say that I ran as quickly as I could back to my office and shut the door.

  6

  Now, I’m not normally a person who lives in the future. I honestly would rather live in the here and now, tackling daily tasks rather than worrying about things that may never come to fruition. I have my retirement plan and a few investments set up only due to the harassment of my father. If you asked me to make plans for something a few months in advance I would do it, but then it would be gone from my mind. The excitement would only come once the time was upon me.

  Eric was interested in seeing the cards some Friday afternoon. There wasn’t a definitive date or time, no commitment to getting together to review them. No reason for me to get excited.

  Never mind the fact that I was absolutely not going to bring them in for him. No way. I didn’t know him, not really, and he didn’t know me. Despite having a major lust-crush on him, I couldn’t be reckless enough to do something like that.

  It was stupid.

  Totally idiotic.

  I purposely ignored the cards Friday night, not certain that I’d be able to make it through the night if I’d looked at them. My plan failed spectacularly because I didn’t sleep a wink.

  Instead I masturbated. Twice.

  Saturday morning I debated calling Jasmine and filling her in on my weird encounter with Eric. I knew she was most likely otherwise engaged and I didn’t want to do anything to ruin her time with Nell. I knew what she’d say at any rate: What the hell’s the matter with you? Take the cards and go get laid!

  That would be the opposite of helpful.

  Instead I called my mom.

  “Hi, sweetheart. How are you doing?”

  “I’m okay. Just wanted to see how Nanna was making out.”

  “As well as to be expected. She’s been talking a lot about her own arrangements, funeral expenses, updating her will and the like. It’s been hard on your dad.”

  The realities of mortality and how quickly our lives are over before we have a chance to do everything that we want hit me. “Do you want me to come visit?”

  “Not unless you want to. We’re fine, but probably not the best company right now. You’re doing okay?”

  “I’m fine.” Truth be told I was feeling guilty that I wasn’t more upset than I actually was. “It’s been a strange week.”

  “You need to get out and have some fun. I worry about you spending too much time in that library. You work at a college. I would hope there would be some bands playing at the pub or a faculty party you could attend.”

  Eric flashed to mind. “It’s nothing but craziness this month. Students getting drunk for the first time running around campus and stuff.”

  “Well, that shouldn’t stop you. You’re in your twenties, not your eighties. I hate to see you all alone.”

  “Mom—”

  “I’ll stop. Still, you should go out and enjoy the weekend.”

  “I will.”

  “Good.”

  We chatted for a bit longer, but once I’d hung up the phone I didn’t feel any better. Mom’s normal prodding to get me out into the dating pool normally never bothered me. Combined with my run-in with Eric and my overactive imagination, though, I knew I needed to get out and do something or else I’d start to go a bit crazy.

  I spent the rest of the weekend visiting parks and outside venues in and around my apartment. One thing that I’d always loved about Toronto was the number of things you can pick up and do at a moment’s notice. So I went and did, hoping to burn off the rising tide of energy inside me.

  It didn’t help.

  On Monday I arrived at the office a full hour ahead of Jasmine. I made sure to fix my hair before I pushed open the door and walked down the hall. I had to swallow my disappointment when I realized that Eric’s office door was closed and he was nowhere in sight. Which was good, because I didn’t want to see him.

  Nope.

  Not even in his light gray shirt and charcoal dress pants.

  When Jasmine flew in, talking before she was even fully inside the room, I had to press pause on my mental fantasies and focus my attention on her. “My God, this is the best day ever. The weather is perfect and the birds were singing my song as I walked across the parking lot.”

  “Clearly you had a good weekend.” I laughed at her dramatic sigh as she fell into her chair. “You and Nell?”

  “My plan was a success. We’re back on, baby!”

  “That’s good. I’m so happy for you, Jaz.”

  “I think we might actually have worked a few things out this weekend. I mean, we didn’t argue even once. And the sex. Holy fucking God, the sex.”

  “Sure, brag to the girl who hasn’t gotten any in months.” Six months, three weeks, and a handful of days. But who was counting?

  “I keep telling you you’ll never find the right guy sitting around pining for someone who you refuse to chase after. You either need to get off your ass and do something, or join an online dating site so you can meet people.”

  That was my opportunity to tell her about what had happened on Friday. A natural transition from Hey, you had great sex to Actually, I was eye-fucking Eric’s forearms in the kitchen. But I delayed too long and she’d moved on to talking about the interviews she was going to have to set up this week, so it didn’t feel right to bring it up.

  I tried to focus on my work, but my thoughts bounced between my research and wondering where Eric was. When I felt myself start to get depressed my gaze would wander out into the hallway toward where Eric would normally come in. Through the school year his office hours were in the morning as he taught in the afternoon. Not that I was paying that much attention. Nope, not me. When he wasn’t in by noon, I couldn’t help but wonder where he’d gotten off to. When he wasn’t here by one, I had to admit that I was worried just a little. By two o’clock, I couldn’t stand it any longer. I picked up a stack of books and stood so quickly that Jasmine jumped.

  “I need to renew these. Right now. I mean before I have to leave.”

  “Okay.” She stared at me for a few seconds longer before shaking her head and turning back toward her computer.

  “I’ll be back.”

  “Yup.”

  Eric’s door remained stubbornly closed and his office empty both on my trip to and from the library, where my books did in fact need to
get renewed. We’d shared only a handful of conversations over the year that we’d worked together in the same building, so it wasn’t as though I should have known his schedule or any deviations to it. Still, I was annoyed.

  How could what happened on Friday have happened and then he not be here on Monday? It was as though fate or some ancient gods were playing a horrible prank on me.

  Here Glenna, here is this man who you’ve been lusting after for so long now.

  And POOF he’s gone.

  Sucker!

  When three thirty came, I had to put my Eric Watch on hold. I’d talked to Mom last night on the phone and promised her that I’d stop by after work. I did walk past his office one more time just to reassure myself that I hadn’t missed him. Nope, the door was shut. I straightened my shoulders and forced myself to ignore the what-might-have-beens and get my ass to the bus on time. I arrived moments before the bus did, and quickly took my window seat. It gave me the perfect view of Eric getting out of his car in the parking lot and heading to the building.

  Typical.

  Tuesday morning I couldn’t bring myself to come in early. I’d slept horribly again the previous night, without even the benefit of sexy Eric fantasies. Thoughts of the cards and Great Glenna’s words kept me from sleep until the wee hours. It had taken two full coffees to get me to the point where I could leave my apartment and recognize the right bus line to take. Which meant I was going to be useless all day.

  I don’t want to be dramatic about the situation, but the main thing that kept me going was the hope of an Eric sighting. And if Great Glenna was out there pulling some cosmic strings for me, preferably a sighting of him with his shirt sleeves rolled up. When I stepped out into the hallway and saw the light from his open office door spilling across the tile, I smiled. Okay then, this was much better. A quick glance as I walked past showed three other professors crowded into chairs in the space, all leaning in and debating something displayed on his computer. Eric didn’t even look up as I passed.

  Shit.

  Frustration wasn’t a new thing for me, so I continued on about my day.

  I sat down and stared at my computer before glaring back down the hallway. This sucked. I’d spent the night debating Great Glenna’s words and finally came to the tentative conclusion that yes, maybe, possibly I would bring the cards in on Friday and talk to Eric about them.

  Maybe.

  My e-mail blooped at me and I knew that the real world was once again at my doorstep.

  To: O’Donald, Glenna

  From: Social Committee

  Subject: Welcome Back Social

  Message: Staff. Don’t forget that this

  Friday is our annual Welcome Back Social. We’ll be gathering at the alumni building for a barbecue and drinks. Please make sure you RSVP to this e-mail stating any dietary restric- tions you may have. Vegetarian and gluten-free options will be available. We hope to see you there! The Social Committee

  The reminder got me excited and it wasn’t just for the chance to have some of Monique’s home brew. Jasmine was right that the barbecue was the perfect opportunity to approach him. I didn’t have to worry about him not knowing who I was any longer, so there was no reason to avoid him. Plus, Jasmine had been right that the event was perfect timing.

  I wasn’t so dramatic to think that it had been fate that had put Eric in my path last year at the barbecue. It had actually been Professor Mickelson. He’d been showing Eric around and I’d been surprised when he’d stopped to introduce us. I still remembered the race of excitement when Eric had taken my hand and looked me in the eyes.

  Nice to meet you, Glenna.

  There’d been something about the way he said my name, the way he always spoke it with precision, that made me hyper aware of him. That was the only time we’d spoken for months. I saw him, but he’d still been getting situated with the college, his new course, his students. I didn’t mind hanging on the sidelines looking.

  Maybe this year I’d do something more than look.

  And the barbecue was on a Friday.

  Maybe...

  The rest of the week passed in a similar fashion, with each subsequent day bringing me closer to needing to make a decision. I hadn’t taken the cards out from their hiding spot, but every night when I got home from work I became acutely aware of their presence. It wasn’t until Thursday night, after I’d had my shower and put my hair into a long braid that fell down the middle of my back, that I sat on my bed and stared at the nightstand drawer.

  He was curious about the cards.

  He wanted to see them.

  Tomorrow was the perfect time to approach him.

  I knew that meant I didn’t have to bring them with me. I suspected if I didn’t approach him then that he would never say anything. He was a professor at a school and had a reputation to maintain. He didn’t strike me as the type of person who would actively proposition a coworker, or make advances unwanted or otherwise. The ball was squarely in my court. But damn, it was so far beyond what I thought I’d ever be able to do, it seemed alien.

  I opened the drawer but made no further attempt to retrieve my prize.

  Eric’s interest could be purely academic. What kind of sex cards would a person find at a graveyard? Were they risqué or standard fare? I would tell him about Alyssa and my theory on who I thought she was. He might very well have a theory of his own that would either support or refute mine. We could discuss, perhaps even debate our points. Then once we were finished, I would tuck the cards into my purse and bring them back home.

  That was a very valid series of events that could happen. Though if there was beer involved, things might turn out differently.

  I reached in and immediately put my hands on them. I held them in place, running my fingertips across the card stock, feeling its smooth surface. I imagined I could read ink simply with my touch. Day One. Day Five. Day Ten.

  I didn’t want Eric’s interest to be academic. I wanted it to be carnal.

  I wanted to have sex.

  That was never going to happen if I didn’t take Great Glenna’s advice and go after what I wanted. If I didn’t, I’d end up living my greatest fear—growing old alone. That really shouldn’t matter so much to me. I was fine on my own, enjoyed it for the most part. I didn’t need a man to complete my life. I had my job and I loved what I did. I was really frigging good at it too.

  But I’d be lying to myself if I didn’t admit that I wanted the company.

  Getting my courage up, I pulled the cards free and set them on my lap.

  Day One

  Masturbate

  Well, I was more than familiar with Day One. There wasn’t much else a single girl could do, especially since my recent adventures into the dating pool had been less than appealing. So yeah, I needed to switch things up if I wanted to take these cards to heart.

  I had to masturbate with a purpose.

  And didn’t that sound weird.

  I set the stack on top of the nightstand and lay back on my bed. I needed to make this special somehow, different. No dildo, nipple pinch, and boom! It needed to be more than a simple sexual release.

  Closing my eyes was the easy part. I had a number of fantasies that I’d invented over the years that would get me to that place I wanted to be. Things that almost felt rote now. I didn’t want this to be the same old routine. I was going to embark on a journey—I hoped—that would take me on a different path from the one I’d been on up to this point. Eric had been the object of my desire for so long, a fantasy out of reach and therefore safe. Tomorrow could be the beginning of something new. Or more likely, it could be the event that finally popped the bubble.

  Tonight I owed it to myself to have one more fantasy. One more night of make-believe before my world changed.

  With my eyes still closed I pressed my hand to the side of my throat, letting my fingers rest lightly on my skin. I pictured Eric in the kitchen at the university standing in front of me as he had last week. This time I kept standing th
ere, hand at my sides, looking up at him. His gaze had the same intensity to it, but my fantasy Eric looked at me differently. There was no curiosity in his gaze, only desire.

  My hand became his. I did my best to mimic what it must feel like to have his large fingers slide across my throat and down to stop just above my breasts. His gaze wouldn’t leave mine, even as his hands explored. He’d be gauging me, my reactions to his touch. He’d notice the change in my breathing, the way I’d blush when I realized he was about to cup my breasts.

  When my fingers reached my nipple, I slowly dragged my thumb across the hard peak. The fabric of my nightshirt was soft and increased the pleasure I felt. I repeated the action several times, trying to fight the urge to simply plunge my hand between my legs and get myself off.

  Eric wouldn’t do that. Oh no, he’d tease me, draw things out until I was begging him to let me come. I don’t know how I knew that about him, but I did. He’d be purposeful with his caresses. Keeping that in mind, I slowly slid my hand across to my other breast, teasing that nipple as I had the first.

  My fantasy Eric would lean in and nip on my earlobe. His hot breath would make me shiver, would cause my pussy to dampen with need. He wouldn’t say anything right away, knowing what teasing would do to me. He’d press his lips to the sensitive spot just below my ear, licking my skin.

  I want to taste you.

  I squeezed my already-shut eyes tighter as I pushed my hand beneath my nightshirt. My skin was soft, but no matter how hard I tried to picture my touch being Eric’s I couldn’t quite manage it.

  The sound of his voice in my head was what really saved the day. I didn’t need his hand on me, only his presence in my mind directing me toward the pleasure that I so desperately wanted.

  Show me how much you want me. Glenna, show me.

  I didn’t stop then, didn’t hold back. With one hand on my breast pinching and rolling my sensitive nipple, I finally slid my other between my legs. I hadn’t bothered sleeping with panties on since I was a teenager, so there was nothing else preventing me from slipping two fingers on either side of my clit and pressing down on my mound.