Trying To Be Good Book 2

by Weston Parker

  “See you tomorrow then,” she said, standing up. Her legs wobbled, and I wondered if I’d made her as horny as I was. I suspected I’d find out tomorrow.

  “Looking forward to it,” I said and waved.

  I watched her leave the cafeteria. At the doorway, she turned to glance over her shoulder at me and waved one more time before leaving.

  Someone whistled from behind me, and I turned to see a group of my students a few tables over. “Nice job, Professor.” The guys gave me several thumbs up, and I couldn’t suppress the smile on my face. All I had to do was get through one more day to see Paige again.

  Chapter 6

  Even though tonight wasn’t an official date with Reese, I scoured the internet for potential recipes. He had looked so tired. Tightness had tugged at the corners of his eyes, and the bags swelled underneath. I knew he needed more time to work than other things. As much as I wanted to spend the night with him, I understood what it was like to be busy.

  This was another side of him. A more serious side. One I liked. Seeing him in full professor mode was more of a turn on than I wanted to admit. When I first met him, we butted heads about so many things, but when it came to working, I knew with one lunch together, we were on the same page.

  Reese had done so much for me. He’d helped design my dream building when most refused to even meet with me. Or they met with me just to tell me no to my face. He also somehow handled the mobsters. I wasn’t sure how he was involved with those types of people, but I prayed he had his own connections in the city to take care of it. I couldn’t imagine him standing next to Jonah the way his other guards did. The thought made me shiver.

  I understood Reese wanted to keep his past firmly behind him, but I was curious. Much more than I wanted to be.

  I tried to put all of that behind me and focused on making dinner. I wasn’t terrible in the kitchen, but I didn’t enjoy cooking. I did it for necessity only. But for Reese, I wanted it to be perfect. I found a recipe for fried quinoa and chicken. It seemed to have enough protein and vegetables to be healthy, but frying food always added the extra flavor I loved.

  I left work early on Thursday. Allison questioned it, and I told her I wanted to work from home for the rest of the evening. There was no reason to have her pry into my life any more than she usually did. As much as I enjoyed talking to her about her personal life, navigating the relationship between Reese and me was hard enough on my end without her questions about him. Their connection needed to stay on the professional level as much as possible. At least one of us had to.

  I stopped by the grocery store on the way home and filled my cart with all the supplies I needed, plus some wine. I didn’t go overboard, but if at any point Reese wanted to relax, I’d have it on hand.

  On the way up to my apartment, I told Jerry, the concierge, I expected a visitor tonight. As much as I wanted to have him ring up to me when Reese arrived, I liked the idea of him showing up at my door. It was a silent step toward a more intimate relationship, one that I was incredibly willing to explore.

  I was halfway through cutting the cooked, grilled chicken when a knock sounded at my door.

  “Coming!” I called and checked the timer for the quinoa. I had five minutes left. I headed down the hallway, smoothing my hair down. Even though I’d pulled it back, I didn’t want my fly-aways to take over. Appearing as cool and calm as possible, I checked myself out in the mirror by the door before opening it.

  “Hi,” I said.

  Reese’s hair was out of place, but the rumpled exterior only made me like him more. He balanced a stack of folders and paperwork in his hands. It looked like a neater version of the paperwork sprawled over the table when we’d met for lunch.

  “Let me help you,” I said, reaching for several of the folders dangerously teetering to the side.

  “Thanks,” he said.

  I placed the folders on the dining room table. “You can work here. Dinner should be ready soon.”

  “It smells great,” he said, kissing my cheek. “Thank you.”

  I smiled and felt the warmth of his kiss fade as I walked into the kitchen. I was thankful for the wall between the kitchen and the dining room. If it wasn’t there, I was sure I’d stare at him the entire time and probably burn the food.

  Reese was quiet while I finished cooking. I came into the dining room holding two plates of piping hot food, but it took me clearing my throat to get his attention.

  He looked up, and those baby blues melted my knees.

  “Let’s eat on the balcony,” I said. “You deserve a break.”

  He couldn’t get out of his chair fast enough. He shot across the room and opened the door for me. While I prepared dinner, I’d already opened the bottle of wine and set it on the table outside with two glasses. I wasn’t going to be presumptuous, but I knew after a long day, I loved sitting outside with a glass of wine to unwind.

  “Thanks again for this,” he said, sitting down.

  “Not a problem,” I said. “You’ve done so much for me. I think I have many more meals to prepare to make up for it.”

  His eyes met mine. “Promise?”

  I smirked. “Want some wine?”

  “Yes, please,” he said, digging into his meal.

  “Rough day?” I asked.

  He sighed. I hoped it was one of pleasure from the food. After taking a bite, I knew it was my best culinary creation. I supposed I should research more unique dishes in the future, since it wasn’t half bad.

  “It’s not really rough,” he said. “Stressful is the word. We have deadlines for grades while some of my students thought the week of finals was the best time to schedule sessions with me. It’s a lot in one week. But I’ve been doing this for a while and have expected it.”

  Had he? I wondered if the added stress of the building pushed him further. Though, we hadn’t discussed it for a little while. I made a mental note to keep it to myself until his grades were in.

  “Why did you become a professor?” I asked him before taking another bite. I almost wished I doubled the recipe. I knew it would taste just as good as a cold lunch.

  “I wanted to make a change for my students. I know how politics and money can get in the way in this profession, and I wanted to give them a fighting chance.”

  “That’s noble,” I said.

  He winced and shook his head. “I know how much bad stuff is out there. I wanted to be on the side of good.”

  I noted a silent for once on the end of his sentence. His face said all there needed to be said about that. It was the same way he avoided my questioning. I wasn’t going to ruin our meal by asking for more information. I wanted my apartment to be a safe place for him.

  Although each time I saw one of his tattoos or a knotted scar when he dipped his head lower to get another bite, I had to shove down the urge to ask. The mystery around him pulled me in, and I almost wondered if that was why he did it. Or else he wanted to protect me, as he had with those men. What had he done to stop them from threatening me?

  The questions bubbled up during our conversation over dinner and while I rinsed and placed our dishes into the dishwasher. Reese had promptly returned to work, and any hopes of intimacy tonight were dashed to the wind.

  For once, I didn’t mind. I wanted his entire body and mind focused on me. Tonight was about him in every way he needed me.

  Once I finished in the kitchen, I flicked the light off and went to the table where his neck bent over his papers. With a red pen in one hand and his other propping up his chin, he looked the part of the sexy professor. It was a good thing I hadn’t had one who looked like him. I might have graduated with a scandal under my belt.

  “How can I help?” I asked.

  “You don’t have to,” he said. “This is my job. And you made dinner.”

  I slid into the chair next to him. “I want to help. If I can, at least.”

  “It’s not rocket science,” he said. “These are some exams I’d forgotten to grade from a few wee
ks ago. Half of the test is multiple choice. If you could grade that part, I can look through the written booklets.” He gestured at the pile of thin blue notebooks next to him.

  “Why don’t you use the Scantron pages? Or do they not have those anymore?”

  “They do,” he said, handing over a stack of papers. “But I’ve had students complain in the past about marking the wrong sections. They can’t say anything if I have their handwriting. It does make things a little more difficult.”

  I nodded. “I understand.” Reese touched my hand, and I leaned against him. “Thanks for trusting me with this.”

  “I don’t tend to trust anyone,” he said, touching my cheek and turning my face toward his. “I appreciate you.”

  “Right back at you,” I said and got to work. I lined up six tests and went down each question with the answer guide as a reference. I was halfway through the stack in less than a half hour.

  “Where did you learn how to be so efficient?” he asked.

  I clicked my tongue. “A long time ago. I told you there were times we didn’t have electricity, so at night, the candles were my timer. I had to get everything done before they went out.”

  “Smart,” he said.

  “It was,” I said, smiling.

  He cleared his throat. “I wanted to thank you for sharing your past with me. I know how hard it can be.”

  Reese gave me the widest opening I could ever get. I had to try again and ask him about his own past.

  “What do you know about it?” I asked.

  He frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “You said before, you knew the bad side of the world.”

  His hand froze over one of the open notebooks he had in front of him. “I did?”

  “You did,” I said, turning toward him. “I’m not going to push, but it seems you have a lot on your mind about the past. I know talking about it helps.”

  “Not for me,” he said. “I’d prefer not to discuss it.”

  I wanted to ask him why he was okay listening to my painful past while his remained a secret. But whether it was the stress tensing his shoulders or his past darkening his gaze, it was a clear indicator that I straddled a line. One I wasn't willing to cross when I was so close to getting what I needed out of him and my business.

  The blurred line started to get a little sharper for me.

  “I know more than I care to,” he said softly. “I would like to leave it at that.” His expression softened, and I saw a young Reese dealing with whatever shadows haunted his past.

  I reached over and rubbed the back of his neck. His chin dropped to his chest, and he let out a small moan. The tightness in his muscles started to smooth out, and before I put him to sleep, I stopped. I brought him closer to me and kissed the top of his head. I put all my feelings into the kiss. I wanted him to know I understood, but if he ever wanted to move forward with a real relationship, I wasn’t sure how long his secrets could stay hidden.

  Chapter 7

  The rest of the week dragged, partly because I wanted finals week to start but mostly because I wanted to see Paige again. Throughout our time apart, she kept in touch through text, but after our conversation the other night while grading papers, our relationship started to unravel.

  She wasn’t to blame in the least. My insistence on keeping my past away from her put more of a divide into our relationship. She’d asked me flat-out about what I’d said. I blamed the lack of sleep for my mistake. Paige always made me feel more relaxed, which wasn’t a bad thing, but she did throw me off my game.

  She’d taken time out of her day to cook for me, and what did I do? Left her with vague ideas of what my life had looked like. My mistakes were written across my body, and she had to know something had happened to me. Her curiosity about my past was human, and the strain between us was completely my fault.

  I supposed having one-night stands made me less aware of my physical scars. Most women mentioned how “cool” they were or how they made me look “bad”, which added to the fun in the bedroom. But Paige was so much more than all those women put together. Each passing second I stayed with her, I brought her closer to danger. A small part of me wished I could have kept my head when it came to her, but she had me by the heart and cock. I wasn’t sure I could let her go easily, even if I wanted to.

  The shining light at the end of the week was meeting with Paige about the warehouse. As much as she liked doing things herself, I enjoyed giving her what she needed even more.

  After I showered, I dressed casually. I was tired of living in suits all week, slugging through classes, grading, and meetings. If I didn’t see one of the itchy polyester suits again until the end of time, it would be too soon.

  I made sure to take some time with my appearance. Twice this week, Paige saw me disheveled and not at the top of my game. While I was grateful, I wasn’t about to make it day three.

  I arrived at Paige’s apartment building ten minutes early. The concierge, Jerry, waved me through, and I smiled as I passed. I wondered what he thought about Paige and me. Did he think we were an official couple? Hell, I wasn’t even sure what to call us. It still felt nice having free rein around her building. She trusted me, so why couldn’t I do the same for her? She was already in enough trouble with the wrong people. What was a little more?

  My mood soured by the time I made it to her place. But it only took one look at her to get me back.

  “Wow, you look great,” I said after she invited me inside. She wore a flowing white and black striped dress, perfect for the warm weather outside and for the pleasure of my eyes. I couldn’t wait to walk beside her and make everyone, not just Jerry, think we were together. I’d be the luckiest man alive if that were the case.

  “You look relaxed,” she said, lifting on her toes to kiss my cheek.

  “You mean rested? Showered?”

  She laughed. “That too.”

  “Sorry you had to see me that way. I normally reserve it for my colleagues. The preparations for finals week are always the worst.”

  “No problem. Just don’t let it happen again.” She winked at me, and I squeezed her hand, pulling her close to me.

  Her hands splayed across my chest. The light streaming through the windows behind me made her hazel eyes appear almost translucent. I wanted to make love to her so badly, but I didn’t deserve it. Once she accepted the warehouse, she might believe we were even with each other. She could tell me about her past, and I’d give her a temporary space and her permanent one. That had to make up for my lack of sharing. At least, I hoped.

  “Are you ready?” I asked, kissing the tip of her nose.

  “Yes,” she said, smiling at me.

  If I stayed there any longer, I might not have been able to keep the promise to myself.

  When we were on street level, I called a cab and gave the driver the address. Paige hadn’t said much outside our first greeting, so I waited for her to ask more about my past. Maybe it bothered her more than I thought.

  However, the normal crease wrinkling her forehead when she asked me about my scars wasn’t present. Instead, her forehead was smooth, her eyes sparkled, and she smiled as she watched the other cars pass.

  I opened my mouth to say something, but she beat me to it.

  “Why do you own a warehouse?” she asked.

  I blinked, a little taken aback. “Oh.”

  She shook her head. “Oh, what?”

  “Nothing,” I said, not wanting to open the can of worms again. “Sorry, I zoned out for a second there.”

  “I can imagine your brain is mush at the end of this week,” she said, still smiling. While I appreciated her good mood, I couldn’t get on board with it. Any talk of my past gave an opening for her to pry deeper. Though, she didn’t appear to be digging.

  Of course, she’d want to know where I got the warehouse from. Most people didn’t own them. She wouldn’t be herself if she didn’t at least get some of the story. I owed her that much.

  “Yeah, I’m p
retty fried,” I said. “But yeah, the warehouse. When I was a bit younger, I bought it as an investment. The property was pretty cheap at that time, and I didn’t think twice about it when I got some money in my pocket.” I waited for her to ask what “some” meant, but she didn’t. It was better for the both of us if she continued to think I’d wasted my money on a warehouse instead of saving it. I hoped she’d be able to explain away my “lack of money” that way.

  “Did anyone rent it out?” she asked.

  “Not one,” I said, chuckling into my hand. “Some investment. But I was young and a little naive.”

  “You didn’t want to sell it?”

  I shook my head. “I wouldn’t have had a return on the investment, so I suppose I kept it around until a rainy day.”

  She snorted. “Most people keep money around for a rainy day.”

  I shrugged. “I’m not most people.”

  She smiled. “I know. You’re better than most.”

  “You sure about that?” I asked.

  She shoved a lock of hair over her shoulder and faced me. Her eyes burned into mine. “I wouldn’t associate myself with you if you weren’t. I like to keep good company.”

  “I don’t know about Allison, though,” I said with a wink. “She’s a little shady.”

  That got a laugh from her, and I took her momentary distraction to move closer to her on the seat. I couldn’t help wanting to be as near to her as possible. I fed off her positive energy, and for a moment, I savored it. Paige took away the scars from my past, and in her arms, I could be a different person. At least, for now.

  I hadn’t laid eyes on the warehouse in some time. I’d hired a security guard to keep me updated on the premises monthly, and there had been nothing out of the ordinary to report. The previous owner of the building kept it locked up tight, and all the windows were secured with metal bars or bricked up completely.

  It wasn’t much to look at, but it would give Paige plenty of space to work for the duration of her permanent building’s construction.