“Visualization is actually very helpful to the brain,” he said. “It’s critical that we tell our brains what to focus on, because as we are bombarded with information every second of every day, the only way to survive is to filter.”
“That makes sense.” Audrey dug her notebook out of her bag and started taking notes.
“So, if we have to filter information, perception becomes reality, right? What we focus on and what we filter out shape the way we view the world.” He watched her neat handwriting flow across the page of her notebook. “There’s something called the reticular activating system that helps this process. The RAS is a network of neurons that ensures our brain isn’t overloaded with more information than it can possibly handle. It sorts information into what we notice and what we don’t.”
“So it’s like the brain’s sieve?”
“Exactly. The RAS and how we utilize it is actually a big part of the book I’m writing—because I believe that if we understand how to adjust our filter to see the world more positively, then we will naturally find more opportunity, more creativity, and more innovation in our lives.”
“Huh.” Audrey nodded, tapping her pen against the page.
“And if we understand what our ideal ‘end state’ looks like—although I don’t believe there is ever a true end state with life—then we can wire our brain to make sure we don’t filter out things that will help us along that journey. The RAS can act like an internal GPS system, guiding us toward what we want by noticing more opportunities and making it easier for us to make decisions in alignment with our goals.”
“Like stockpiling Doritos when they’re on sale?”
Ronan laughed. “Exactly.”
“Gosh, it’s…maybe I’m horribly unimaginative. I would never come up with something like that.”
“Close your eyes.”
She raised an eyebrow at him.
“I’m serious.” He reached over and gently removed the coffee cup from her hands, then placed it down on the table. “Close your eyes, and I’m going to guide you.”
With a reluctant sigh, Audrey did as he requested. He noticed there was something subtle and shimmery on her eyelids, like someone had sprinkled stardust there. It was pretty, and it made him smile for some stupid reason.
“Okay, let’s start with the basics. We’re going forward ten years into the future.”
“So I’ll be old like you?” she teased, a cheeky expression crinkling her nose and making her cheeks pop. But she kept her eyes closed.
“Excuse me. In ten years’ time, you’ll be older than I am now by two years, and not a day more,” Ronan said drily. “Shall we continue, smarty-pants?”
She nodded, sucking on her lower lip as if trying to stifle an amused smile. “Uh-huh.”
“Ten years into the future. I’m going to ask some questions, and you have to say the first thing that pops into your head, no filtering.”
“Okay.”
“Are you still in Kissing Creek?”
“No.” Something shifted in Audrey’s expression, as if she was surprised by her response. But she kept her eyes closed.
“Are you in the United States?”
“No.”
“What can you see?”
“Blue water,” she replied. “The beach. It looks…tropical.”
“Are you on vacation?”
“Yes, I think so.” She nodded. “I’m standing on a balcony.”
“What does it feel like?”
“It’s warm; there’s a breeze.” Her voice was more relaxed now, as though the visual soothed her. “I can see palm trees moving, and the tiles are cold under my feet. I’m not wearing any shoes.”
“What can you smell?”
“Salt water. Something vanilla, like ice cream.”
“Why are you on vacation?”
“Because I want to see what else exists in the world. I want to experience other places and…have time off.”
Her words, so sincere and so heartfelt, struck him in the chest. “Okay, when you come home from your vacation, what can you see? You’ve gotten off the plane, and you’ve caught a cab home. Is it a big house, an apartment?”
“It’s an apartment. I’m in a city, I think. There are people noises and music and lights twinkling.”
“Walk through the front door. Tell me what you see.”
“It’s pretty—the place is tidy, and there’s a pink couch. I’ve always wanted a pink couch with loads of cushions. There’s a big bookshelf that’s overflowing with books.” Audrey sighed. “It’s beautiful.”
“What else do you see?”
“Textbooks on the coffee table. A laptop. Someone works there.”
“Is that someone you?”
“I think so.”
Ronan studied her closely. “Keep walking through the house. Is anyone else there?”
“Yes.” She sucked in a breath. “I walk into the bedroom…”
Her eyes flew open, her cheeks suddenly warm and colorful. Her pupils had grown, and she blinked against the bright lights of the college library, her hand coming to her chest.
“What did you see?” Ronan frowned.
Audrey reached for her coffee and took a long gulp. “A man.”
“Your husband or boyfriend?”
“Husband,” she whispered, and her eyes were locked on his. “I never thought I wanted to get married. Ever.”
“How come?”
She shook her head. “I…I saw what losing my mom did to my dad, and I don’t ever want to go through that. I don’t want grief to turn me into a monster.”
“But maybe you do want to have a relationship. These exercises are designed to allow what’s already in your brain to bubble to the surface, so we can view our desires in a safe and nonjudgmental way.”
“But I am judging it.” Audrey looked affronted, as though her own desires had offended her. “I know logically that relationships are dangerous. When you open up to another person, you’re handing them power to hurt you.”
Ronan nodded. He couldn’t argue there—his own views on love and relationships were pretty much aligned. “Unfortunately, logic and desire don’t always line up.”
“Humans are poorly designed,” Audrey muttered.
“I agree. But it’s important to know what you want, because constantly suppressing those desires can leave you feeling unsatisfied or disconnected from your own life. You saw textbooks and a full bookshelf—those things are there for a reason.”
“But that doesn’t mean it can happen.”
“Maybe not now. But you have a whole long life ahead of you that can be filled with those things. Understanding desire doesn’t mean we get what we want right away, but it does mean we have the opportunity to put plans in place and pave a road toward it.”
She eyed him warily, as though he was a fortune-teller promising security and she was certain she knew it couldn’t possibly exist. “No one is guaranteed a long life.”
“Exactly. We have to enjoy what we have.”
“Ah, so you’re one of those people.” She cocked her head. “Personal desire trumps responsibility, because carpe diem or insert other meaningless Instagram quote here.”
“Wow, was that some actual cynicism from Little Miss Sunshine?”
Audrey blinked. “I’m not cynical at all. Quite the contrary—and I believe in the importance of what I do and the sacrifices I make. Which is all the more reason to avoid selfishness thinly veiled as a motivational quote.”
“You’re very motivated by the present.”
“Isn’t the here and now the only thing we know for sure?” she asked. “I understand the whole brain-filter GPS thing, but surely focusing too much on the future isn’t productive.”
“It has to be a balance,” Ronan admitted. “But understanding where you wa
nt to go will give you a much higher chance of getting there in the future. There’s nothing selfish about wanting, Audrey. It’s a fundamentally human thing.”
“Isn’t it dangerous to want things you can’t have?” Her lashes lowered for a moment, exposing the shimmery particles on her lids once more. They glimmered when she blinked, luring him closer.
“I guess it comes down to the reason you think you can’t have it,” he said. Were they even talking about brain filters and visualization anymore? Ronan had no idea.
All he wanted to know was what Audrey saw in the bedroom…or rather, who?
“Sometimes there’s a barrier to what you want. But then the barrier is removed, and I guess it’s unclear if there are more barriers or not,” she said quietly.
Ronan’s breath stilled in his lungs. Audrey had been on his mind from the second he’d walked into her café, and her hold on him had only grown stronger. It was like a fist continuing to tighten around him, the pressure building and building.
The library was quieter now. It was verging on dinnertime, and many of the students who lived on campus would be heading toward the main hall for their meal. Or maybe they’d ventured out into the town, seeking out something different. Only the most die-hard students remained, dotting the space so quietly you’d be forgiven for thinking there was no one there at all.
“What possible barriers might there still be?” he asked. He was leaning one arm on the table, his body craned toward her, and she faced him, legs tucked under her chair and hair tumbling over one shoulder.
She had on a pretty tank top thing with lace around the bottom and thin straps that left most of her shoulders free. One of the straps had veered toward the edge of her shoulder, the delicate piece of fabric less than an inch away from sliding down her arm.
“Personal barriers,” she said. Her voice was barely a whisper.
“Such as?”
She sucked on the inside of her cheek for a moment. “Mutual attraction.”
“That’s not a barrier, trust me.” His nostrils flared for a second. God, how could she even question that? With all the reasons in the world not to touch her, he still kissed her like his life depended on it that night in the car. “That’s squarely in the pro column.”
“Age?”
“Is that a barrier for you?” To him, eight years didn’t mean anything.
She shook her head. “No, it’s not.”
“What else have you got?”
Were they really doing this? Negotiating. Maybe it wasn’t that; maybe it was more like due diligence. Sexy, hot-under-the-collar, fueled-by-tension due diligence.
“Reputation?”
“You’re no longer my student,” he said huskily. “And you’re not my employee, either. You made that clear.”
She nodded her head. “I wouldn’t want to do anything that might upset your career.”
“People will talk, though. Isn’t that the way of small-town life?”
“Not if we keep it under wraps.” She looked at him hopefully. “I mean, this isn’t…”
Real? To him it felt real, in a way. After all, if he only wanted sex, then that wasn’t too hard to acquire. It certainly wasn’t something that warranted a discussion about reputation and barriers and whatnot. But that’s because Ronan wasn’t simply after sex. He wanted Audrey, specifically. Completely.
“I’m not looking for forever,” she said with a nod. “No matter what the visualization showed me.”
He wasn’t going to push it, partially because that wasn’t what he wanted, either. He’d come to Kissing Creek with a goal—be closer to his family, write his book, spend the year figuring out the next step. Audrey was tied to this place. He didn’t want to be tied to anything.
“That’s not what I want, either.”
“What do you want, Ronan?” Her lips parted, and he had to restrain himself from leaning forward to kiss her. “Because you’re very good at talking about internal GPS systems and guiding other people through their wants and desires, but you never talk about yourself.”
“I’ve told you more about my life than anybody else in this town.” Or Cambridge. Or Harvard. Or before all that. In fact, if there was a career in being a closed book, Ronan would be an industry leader.
“More doesn’t necessarily mean a lot,” she said.
“Maybe there are other things I’d rather be doing than talking about myself.”
They were dancing around it, neither one willing to pull the trigger. But Audrey had made her desires clear, even if she didn’t quite agree with whatever was lurking in her dream apartment.
But she needed to be the one who gave the go-ahead. Because even if he wasn’t her professor or her boss or anything else, the last thing Audrey needed was one more person dictating her destiny.
“If you want this, then I’m all yours,” he said. “I will walk you out of this library right now and take you back to my place. We’ve been trying to avoid this for weeks, and I’d like very much to see where it goes. But I’m not moving a damn inch unless you say so.”
Her breath came quicker, her eyes wide and cheeks and neck flushed pink. She ran her tongue along her lower lip. “You want me to be the boss, huh?”
“I want you to be in control of what happens next.”
She nodded, her breath hitching as she reached out to touch his hand. “This isn’t some game you’re playing, is it? You’re not trying to teach me a lesson about the future?”
“I wouldn’t be here unless I absolutely wanted this for myself.”
“I’m not looking for someone to fix me, okay?”
“Audrey…” He let out a breath. “You don’t need fixing. You don’t need a white knight. Which is good, because that’s not what I am. I’m just a man.”
“That’s all I want,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “Just a man. Just you. No promises or lies or games. Just you.”
Ronan got to his feet and held out his hand, and Audrey slid her palm against his. “Then let’s go.”
Chapter Sixteen
A person can be 3 times more likely to have a heart attack during or immediately after sex.
Audrey felt like they were a pair of thieves in the night, walking quickly and quietly; the only sounds they made were of quickened breath and the whisper of shoes over wet grass. The campus was quiet, but it was still warm. Muggy. The aftermath of summer rain and the chirrup of insects made it seem even more romantic somehow.
Even more real.
Was she really going to do this?
Ronan’s hand gripped hers as they headed to his place. There was a building way back behind the newer portion of the college’s campus. It was a small apartment complex, with only three stories and a single entrance at the front.
Ronan pulled the keys from his pocket, and Audrey stayed close to him, her cheek tucked against his arm even though they had nothing to hide. But there was something about coming here with Ronan that felt…fraught. Not because she was worried about him being a professor, but because she knew people would look at him, then look at her, and be confused.
Why on earth would a man like him—a smart man with a future tinged with gold—want a going-nowhere small-town lifer like her?
Ronan might not know exactly what his future held, but it was full of possibility. Audrey, on the other hand, knew exactly what the next five years held for her. Beyond that, well…it wasn’t like she’d be able to move to a big city, no matter how the lights had shined in her fantasy. Putting her lack of savings and education aside, she didn’t even have marketable skills. No gold stars on her résumé beyond making a wicked coffee.
But it hadn’t stopped her from imagining it…and him. When she’d walked through the fantasy bedroom door to see a man lying on her bed, no shirt, muscles rippling and a smile sexier than sin… Lordy. The fact that it had been Ronan had shaken her to her
core.
But not as much as the gold band on his finger and the diamond perched on hers.
Ronan pushed the door open and tugged her inside, sweeping his blue eyes down to hers for the briefest second. That one glance blanked any and all worries from her mind. Tonight wasn’t about the future; it was about now.
The present. The glorious, decadent, rebellious present.
“You still with me?” he whispered in a husky tone as he closed the door softly behind her. His apartment was on the second floor, and they made their way up with careful footsteps.
“Of course.”
The landing held a single potted plant and twin doors. Ronan walked to the left one, still holding her hand as though he was worried she might vanish like a puff of smoke. They stepped into his apartment, and he shut the door behind them with a soft snick.
Ronan released her for a moment to hang his keys on a hook and to dump his wallet and phone out of his jeans into a small ceramic bowl. She got the feeling this “unloading” was how he separated himself from the world.
“You’re very quiet,” he said.
She lowered her gaze. “I don’t want to say something that might risk where this is going.”
“Where do you want it to go, Audrey?”
How long had it been since she was with a man? One year…more? No, it had to have been two. At least. She’d forgotten how this was supposed to work. Her eyes flicked around the darkened apartment. Neither of them had turned the lights on, and the only glow came from a lamp outside, shining in through a window and reflecting on the raindrops still smattered on the glass.
It was like being in their own private bubble. For once, she could voice her desires without fear of repercussion.
“I hope it’s going to the bedroom.” She offered up a tentative smile, which bloomed into something more when she saw that Ronan was coming closer still, seemingly undeterred by her awkwardness. “Or maybe the couch…or a countertop somewhere. I’m open to suggestions.”
“Really?” He was in front of her now, one hand coming up to brush a strand of hair from her cheek, curling it around her ear with such tenderness that it was a miracle she didn’t melt on the spot. “I’ve always been a fan of up against a wall.”
Kissing Lessons (Kissing Creek) Page 17
