by Kitty Wilder
She looked down at her pasta and thoughts started running through her mind.
Fingers. His fingers. Those thin soft looking lips licking sauce from his fingers.
My mouth sucking those fingers.
Lucy shook her head to quiet her overactive imagination. What was the alternative though? His place? Where was this night leading? “Uh...” she faltered. “I don’t mind using my fingers.” She opened the container and did her best to, as gracefully as possible, wrap a couple noodles around her finger.
“Have it your way. It smells delicious. May I steal a taste?”
She hesitated but didn’t want to seem rude. “Of course.” She slid the box over to her other knee to share with him.
John stirred a noodle with his index finger and Lucy watched as both finger and thick droplet of sauce disappeared between those lips she hadn’t been able to stop daydreaming about kissing since the first day of class. His finger gingerly slid back out. She could imagine his tongue flicking around it, ensuring every last drop was collected. His eyes flicked up to her and she saw the ghost of a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Fuck. He knows.
Lucy cast her eyes back down to her lap and did her best not to stare. He sampled a couple more dabs, but then seemed content to watch her finish the rest on her own as they sat once more in a peaceful silence, broken only by the occasional giggle as she attempted such a clumsy technique at noodle-eating.
When she finished, he pulled out a handkerchief and offered it to her to clean up. “Do you need a ride home or is that your car over there?”
Lucy quietly thanked him and dabbed any stray sauce from her lips and hands, before answering, “Yes, that’s mine.” She reached beside her and grabbed her keys out of her clutch, figuring it was his way of hinting at the end of the evening.
Thank God. I don’t think I can take anymore. This is ridiculous. How does he get me so flustered? This was such a bad idea.
“Thank you for coming out with me. I enjoyed our time together,” John said, noticing her keys in hand.
She nodded, trying to hide the traces of guilt and longing that were surely written all over her face. “It was fun.”
“Shall we do this again some time?”
Lucy hesitated. “Sure. Why not?”
He nodded and let her leave the car, remaining parked until he watched her cross the lot and get into her own vehicle. Once she turned on the ignition, he pulled out of the restaurant parking lot and drove off, leaving her alone to think on what had just happened as she watched the diner staff wiping down tables and chairs through the giant windows covered in various advertisements for their menu and deals.
She let out a deep breath and rested her head back against the seat.
He had said nothing suggestive, never touched her, never even hinted at anything inappropriate, yet was perhaps the most dangerous person she had ever met. There was just something about him that kept pulling her in. It seemed like he knew she wanted him, but did he want her too?
Chapter 6
Lucy didn’t stop talking to John, didn’t stop staying late after class for private tutoring, and definitely didn’t stop taking him up on his midnight milkshake invitations either, though she thought it odd the only thing he ever ordered was that red punch.
She thought on these strange things as she slipped an onyx tear drop earring into her lobe and checked her makeup for any unclean lines or smudges. “I’m about to leave,” she called down from the bedroom.
“Have fun with the girls,” Ben shouted back from the living room where he was spending his Friday night playing video games online with his friends.
She could hear the cacophony of gunshots, explosions, and curses drowning him out. She wasn’t a fan of war or violence, but was happy to let him have his own hobbies. Meeting John at night was getting too easy though. Ben didn’t suspect a thing, never pried, didn’t even ask follow-up questions the day after. Perhaps she should have felt guilty, but she felt like he was pulling away too. They hadn’t touched each other in weeks, except for a couple quick pecks on the lips, but that was hardly romantic. She couldn’t quite figure out what was happening and didn’t really care to try to fix it. She felt exhausted at this point in their relationship, as if she was always under scrutiny and trying to pass some sort of invisible trial with him. These friendly meetings with John felt like a breath of fresh air with the opportunity to just relax and be herself. She felt no expectations with him or like she was supposed to fit into any other mold other than her own.
“Thanks,” she responded as she grabbed her purse. She stared into the living room where he was lounging on the couch with a beer beside him and waited for him to see her, to acknowledge her, to wave if nothing else, but his attention was solely fixed on the television and the clamor of jeers and shouts in his ear over his headset. She chewed on the side of her crimson painted lip and wondered how someone she barely knew could make her feel more seen than the man she had been in love with for over six years.
Lucy made her way to her car and wondered if that’s what kept her so eager to see her professor. Or was it the sheer beauty of his presence that she found difficult to look away from? He moved with the grace of an already choreographed life, deliberate, yet unimposing. Maybe it was the wealth of wisdom that seemed hidden behind those luminescent gray eyes. When he spoke about people, he showed an obvious depth in the understanding of human nature and man’s struggles that she had never heard anyone else talk about so honestly. There seemed to be a great deal of pain in him that gave him a unique perspective Lucy was hungry to hear more of. Maybe her addiction was from how easy it was to talk to him. Their conversations sometimes carried on until the night was almost over and the staff at the diner was getting ready for their shift change. He always made sure to end there though and make sure she got home. Whatever the reason was, or if it was all of them, she found herself able to sit in his company for as long as he would let her and was utterly unable to say no to a single invitation he offered, even if it meant heading home with only enough time to shower and change before going into work the following morning.
All that bothered her was that still, weeks later after their surprisingly intimate first dinner together, he had not touched her, nothing except for the occasional palm on her lower back as he guided her through a door he had opened for her.
Lucy parked next to John’s car in what was fast becoming her usual spot. She opened her door to be hit by a chilly wind hinting at Autumn just around the corner. She shivered and tugged the lapels of her coat tightly closed in her fist and clicked briskly in her heels to the front door. It opened on its own, John’s hand stretching out to welcome her into the restaurant’s warmth.
He nodded at the hostess to let them know they would sit down now in their usual booth and she nodded back, barely looking up from her phone to do so.
“Are you hungry tonight?” John asked after ordering his usual glass of punch.
Lucy shook her head. “I ate earlier. I think I need to start skipping the milkshakes too. At this rate I’ll be struggling with diabetes by the end of the semester,” she laughed.
He chuckled. “Well we can’t have that. Would you like something else?”
She looked up at the waitress waiting to take their order. “Just a water tonight, thank you.”
Just as Lucy was about to say something, they were interrupted.
“Good evening, John,” a meek feminine voice said softly.
He looked up surprised. “Doris. Good evening.”
“Word has gotten around this is your favorite spot. I thought I might try it out,” she replied softly, her shoulders slumped forward under her green cardigan and pale blue ankle-length dress. She flipped her faded hair behind her shoulder as she looked up at him from under her lashes, her flirting all too obvious even to Lucy.
He was silent for a moment, never looking over at Lucy. Hesitantly, with an uncharacteristic tone of uncertainty in his voice, he asked,
“Would you like to join us?”
Doris twirled a lock of hair around her finger and smiled shyly with a nod.
“Very well,” he replied brusquely and motioned for her to take a seat next to Lucy.
She did not follow his suggestion, instead sliding into the seat next to him and settled close.
Lucy wondered silently about their strange back and forth. How long had it gone on for? Why did he entertain her? Was he actually secretly interested in her as well? If he was, then why did he continue to invite Lucy out with him? Were they actually a couple?
“Is it Lucy?” Doris asked, looking at her now.
Lucy nodded. “Yes. I have you for algebra, Professor Pemberley.”
“Ah yes, silly me,” she chuckled. It was a high pitched, squeaky sound that hurt Lucy’s ears a little.
“Are you two good friends then?” Doris asked her, glancing over to John. “There’s quite a bit of gossip going around about the two of you.”
John interrupted, “Gossip is rarely founded in fact, Doris, and it’s rude to give any stock to it. Yes, Lucy and I enjoy academic conversations over late milkshakes once in a while. She’s perhaps one of my brightest students.”
Lucy smiled bashfully, proud that he no longer saw her as the straggler of the class, though her heart sank at the cut and dry way he described their meetings.
Doris asked the waitress for a small salad when she came back and John only seemed to look more annoyed as the evening continued, causing Lucy to wonder why he bothered extending the invitation to the woman at all if her presence was so vexing.
“So what is it you two spend so much time talking about?” Pemberley asked.
“Philosophy,” John replied curtly. “I am a philosophy professor after all.”
Lucy tried to defuse the tension at the table with a little laugh. “A philosophy professor discussing philosophy? Doesn’t seem like a thing to me.”
His gray eyes lightened and he smirked, but immediately darkened again at the sound of Doris’ grating laugh. He sighed and took a deep gulp of his punch as the waitress brought out the salad the woman had ordered.
Doris kept looking up at Lucy as she picked at her salad, kept watching her in silent judgment. When it was just she and John, Lucy forgot what she looked like.
“So, Professor Pemberley,” she began awkwardly, grasping at anything to pull herself out of her own thoughts, “have you worked at the college long?”
“Oh yes, quite some time. I also teach full time at the university, you know. Busy, busy, busy.”
“Is that... fun?”
Doris looked at her quizzically. “Fun?”
“I mean rewarding.” Lucy shifted in her seat nervously. She felt like some other foreign and incredibly lame version of herself. Even John was watching her with a perplexed grin, probably giggling internally to himself as he watched her socially flail. Not once had the two of them ever made chit-chat. From the very beginning, their conversations had meant something.
Doris nodded. “It can be. Most of the time it’s just frustrating. There’s no appreciation for mathematics anymore. Most of you kids only care about selfies and your electronics. You wouldn’t be able to enjoy posting your lives away if it weren’t for the math behind those apps and devices.”
She felt her jaw tighten in disapproval as she was compared to her vapid peers.
“Lucy here is earning a degree in graphic design,” John interjected. “She’ll most likely be working alongside those programmers one day. I can’t say that I’ve seen her take a single selfie though.”
“Oh,” Doris looked up at her surprised. “Well isn’t that something. I’m curious how you wound up in Professor Wright’s class then?”
“Well, I heard philosophy can get a little graphic now and then.”
John’s thin lips tugged up in a smirk.
Doris looked confused for a moment, looked over at John, and then forced a smile. “Oh,” she laughed halfheartedly, “A joke, I see.”
The three of them were quiet for a moment and Doris finished the last bites of her salad and pushed the plate aside. “Well this is lovely, isn’t it?” She broke the awkward silence suddenly. “What a charming way to spend an evening. You two do this often?”
Lucy looked over at John, unsure how to answer.
He finished the last swallow of his deep red drink and set the glass down on the table. “Once in a while,” he lied.
Maybe he is interested in her then. Why else would he lie about how frequently he sees me?
Lucy had been joining him here almost every night for the past few weeks, and not just after scheduled classes. The polite invitations via text to join him while he graded papers or planned his curriculum were growing more frequent.
“When’s the next one? I’d love to join in again.”
“I don’t know,” John answered curtly. “We don’t schedule them.” He motioned for her to scoot off the bench so he could stand up. “Pardon me.”
“Oh are we leaving then?” Doris asked as she let him escape the booth.
Lucy looked up at John, who was clearly eyeing the door. “Doris, dear, why don’t you take my card and go pay our bill up front. I believe our waitress must be on her break, but the hostess will gladly run it.”
“You’re too kind,” she beamed. “Thank you, John. You didn’t have to pay for me.”
“It’s my pleasure, truly,” he assured in a hollow voice.
Lucy saw their waitress through the window in the kitchen doors moving about with plates and laughing with another coworker, not on break at all. She rose and looked up at him curiously as Pemberley left to the front of the diner.
“Forgive this intrusion. I...” He looked caught off guard for the first time since she had known him.
“Is she your wife? Girlfriend?” she asked confused.
“It’s complicated.”
She nodded, her heart plummeting down to the floor.
He looked past her, watching Doris, and looked back and spoke hurriedly in a hushed voice, “I must confess, I’m not ready to part with you just yet. Would you be willing to meet me somewhere?”
Lucy watched his eyes flicking back and forth between her and Pemberley behind her.
Something about the gravelly and intimate rumble to his low whisper felt irresistible. Against her better judgment, she nodded.
John slid his hand behind his lapel and pulled out a pen and scratched down an address on a napkin and then tucked it in her palm.
“Ready to go?” Doris asked as she returned to their table.
“I certainly have to get going. It’s late. Ben will be wondering where I am,” Lucy lied.
“Oh? Is Ben your boyfriend?” Doris asked nonchalantly, but it was obvious the woman had been sizing Lucy up the whole night to see what sort of threat the girl posed.
“Fiancé,” she informed.
“Oh how nice,” Pemberley smiled. “Wonderful. When’s the happy day?”
“Doris, she obviously needs to get going,” John interrupted. “She said you teach her algebra class. You can quiz her to your heart’s content when you see her next.”
Lucy nodded.
“Oh.” She chuckled that terrible laugh of hers again. “I’m sorry. I’m just always so curious about John’s friends. We’ll finish this another time.” She smiled a little too sweetly.
“Okay,” Lucy replied suspiciously.
John pushed Doris forward by the small of her back, staring back at Lucy with a look she didn’t understand before they disappeared into the parking lot.
Lucy looked at the napkin and smiled.
Just friends. That’s all this is. Just good friends.
Despite this internal talking down, she couldn’t wipe the growing smile from her face as she headed out to her car.
Chapter 7
Lucy climbed the many stairs of the apartment building located in the scenic part of downtown, positive now that the address John had given her was his own. As part of the town�
�s history, the building was a treasure and only minimally altered to accommodate modern occupants, with exception to the installation of an elevator.
After a lengthy climb to the second highest floor, she found herself face to face with a worn apartment plate to a private residence. She left a couple modest knocks on the door, trying to silence the internal debate screaming in her head.
This is stupid. This is how bad things happen.
Nothing is going to happen, dumbass. We just hang out and talk.
Driving to another man’s home in the middle of the night is a recipe for mischief.
No it isn’t. It’s fucking fine.
Oh so all those dirty thoughts were what?
Shut up! Nothing is going to happen.
What about Ben? What would he say?
Nothing, because Ben doesn’t need to know, because he’d misconstrue it too. It’s nothing. Shut up. I’m not cheating on him. I haven’t even touched John.
The door opened and John stood in the doorway dressed down with his sleeves rolled up and his sapphire blue tie loosened around his neck with the first button popped open. “Come in,” he waved his hand for her to enter.
Lucy carefully stepped over the threshold and was greeted by a modest, but very warm, open concept apartment. The space was well defined by an area rug that looked to be a piece of art all on its own. Its cheery colors and careful designs beckoned her to the vintage pieces of furniture circled around an old coffee table, warmed by a beautiful marble fireplace that filled the room with its soft crackling. Its stunning mantle was lined with old, heavy looking books and a couple lion head bookends. Above it hung a stunning replica of Vermeer’s Girl with a Pearl Earring.
“This is one of my favorite paintings.” She smiled back at him, then turned back to the masterpiece in awe. “And what a fantastic copy. Whoever painted this has just as skilled a hand. It’s beautiful.”
It was a moment before she turned to find him staring not at the painting, but taking in with fine detail the wonder written on her face. He smiled when she caught him watching her.