There’s veiled anger now, joining the hurt, pushing the knife in deeper. “No, I’m free,” I say.
“That’s good.” She smiles, but it’s hollow, and I can tell she’s put up a wall between us.
Of course she would. I came on strong, gave her the full Aidan treatment, and then disappeared. She has a right to be hurt and angry.
While Amber flips through her notes, I try to figure out what I might say to make things right. When my phone buzzes, she glances at it sideways. “Sorry,” I say. “Let me just see what this is.”
It’s from Justin at the front desk. “Sorry,” I say again. “I’ll be right back.”
Justin’s got a call holding from the student from my previous session, who suspects he’s left his calculator behind. I go to check in the study room where we’d been sitting. There’s a group in there, and the calculator is nowhere to be seen, but when I ask, one of the students admits to finding it. He was going to turn it in, he says. I don’t argue with him, just take the calculator and deliver it to Justin so the student can retrieve it.
When I turn back to where Amber’s sitting, I see a guy standing there talking to her. From the look on her face, she’s a lot happier with him than me right now.
Something vicious twists in my gut, and it takes me a moment to recognize it. I haven’t been jealous about a girl since I was in third grade. She’s looking up at him, eyes bright, and he’s smiling down at her — and I want to punch his lights out.
No matter how big an asshole it makes me, I am so not okay with watching another guy hit on Amber. I reach the table in time to hear him say, “Can I get your number?”
My fists clench at my sides. “Hey, Amber,” I say a little too loudly, cutting off any potential response. “Sorry about that. Are you ready to get started?”
I stare the other guy down, and it doesn’t take him long to get the picture. “I’ll see you around,” he says, backing away from the table.
The fuck he will.
Amber watches him go, and I watch her watching him. Those few seconds don’t cool my anger, but they’re enough for a strange clarity to overtake me.
When she finally looks back at me, I say, “I need to talk to you.”
Chapter 25
Amber
Aidan’s voice is heavy and deep, and it lights me up at the same time it sends a chill through me.
His words sound like the start of a breakup conversation, but we can’t be breaking up when we were never together. And anyway, our “non-breakup” already happened when he stopped contacting me, stopped flirting with me.
“What’s going on?” I ask. “We’re still studying, right?”
“Yeah, just not here,” he says. “Let’s go somewhere else.” I’m completely off balance and have no idea what he has in mind. Turning numb, I nod and follow him as he leads us out of the center.
Aidan walks briskly, like he has somewhere to go. When we’re a good distance from the building, he stops abruptly and turns to me. “I can’t do this,” he says.
My stomach, which had already been knotted into a tight ball since I arrived at the tutoring center, twists again. Aidan looks agitated, almost angry.
“You can’t do what?” I say.
He stares at me, looking deep into my eyes, and I can’t look away, even though I desperately want to. “I can’t stay away from you.”
At first I can’t even process what he’s said. He doesn’t touch me, but his eyes continue to pierce mine, like he’s searching for my reaction.
The ball in my stomach unfurls and warmth floods through me. He feels it too. It’s not just me. I can see in his eyes that he feels the pull, that something-deeper that draws me to him like an undertow, like I felt outside his house that night.
When he reaches up to claim a strand of my hair, I completely melt. I drop my bag, go into his arms, and just hold on. His arms come around me and hold me tight, and for a long moment we just stand there, not speaking, but communicating so much in our embrace.
Everything, for those few moments, feels incredibly right.
“I missed you,” I say, and his grip tightens around me, his hand warm at the back of my neck.
“I missed you too.” He touches his forehead to mine, then draws back to look at me. “Want to go to BFOC? I could use some food, and we can study there.”
Food is the absolute farthest thing from my mind, especially with how my stomach feels, but right now I’d agree to study at the top of Mount Everest so long as he was there.
We set off across campus again. Aidan doesn’t take my hand, and I realize he hasn’t even kissed me. His words and his embrace were intense, but I still feel off balance somehow.
He said he missed me, but what does that mean? Why has he been ignoring me these past two weeks? I don’t want to be some demanding, clingy girl, but I honestly don’t understand what’s going on between us. Are we somehow “together” now, or is he just circling back to me because he’s still attracted to me? Is he still getting laid every time he turns around while he keeps this, whatever “this” is, going with me?
I want to be able to voice my questions and find some clarity, but I can’t work out how to say these things without it sounding bad, and without ruining whatever’s going on between us.
At the café, Aidan pulls a sandwich out of the case while I hang back. “What would you like?” he asks.
“I can get it,” I say.
Arching a brow, he gives me a look. “Just let me,” he says.
His words strike me as a metaphor for our entire relationship. I’m on his time, on his terms, at his will.
I look back at him for a second and then pick a small salad out of the case, not really sure I can eat anything. Aidan pays for the food, and leads us to a quiet booth. While he tears into his sandwich, I poke at my food but can’t bring myself to eat. My confusion and frustration seem to be stuck in my throat.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
I blurt out the thought at the forefront of my mind before I have a chance to second guess myself. “Why did you want to stay away from me?”
He hesitates for a moment, puts his sandwich down, and seems to be gathering his thoughts. Finally he says, “I don’t have … neither of us really has time for something serious, you know? We’ve got classes, and work, and I’ve got the band.”
My heart is beating fast. I want to continue to question him, to try to pin him down and know exactly what there is between us, but this doesn’t seem like the time for that kind of discussion. Aidan’s watching me, waiting for my reaction, and I decide to keep things light.
“Yeah,” I say. “That makes sense. We’re both really busy.”
“Right,” he says, his mouth curving into a smile. “So I thought it would be better to just … keep our distance.” The smile fades, and he puts a hand over mine. “But I don’t want to keep my distance from you.”
Heat races up my arm from his touch. I meet his eyes — those dark, devastating eyes — and I manage to answer in a whisper, “I don’t want that either.”
We hold each other’s gaze for a long moment, his hand still on mine, his eyes seeming to see deep inside me. I wonder if he can see the line I’ve just crossed in my head ... and my heart.
I don’t want to keep any distance from him. I want to be all in with him, come what may. I’ve felt the heartbreak of thinking he’s done with me, and I can deal with that again if I have to. I want to be with Aidan fully. I want him to be my first.
Even if he could tell what I’m thinking, he probably wouldn’t realize what a big deal it is to me. He’s probably been through scenes like this with lots of girls before me.
My stomach tightens again, and I push away the unwelcome thought. Whatever Aidan’s done with other girls, it doesn’t matter anymore. I turn my hand beneath his so we’re palm to palm, curling my fingers around him. I don’t care if he’s a player, and I know this probably won’t be a long-term thing. I know he’s not the perfect choice for s
omeone like me, who always tries to make the right decision. I don’t care anymore; I just want him.
I squeeze his hand, he smiles at me, and then we return to our food. A weight feels like it’s been lifted, and I dig into my salad, while Aidan’s feet tangle with mine under the table.
After we eat, we go ahead with the tutoring session, and it all feels so different, and so right. Aidan isn’t being the cocky flirt he was at our first session, and he’s not being distant either. He seems like himself, like the real him is fully present with me, and I work through my chemistry with a warm glow lighting me from inside.
“I can tell you’ve been studying,” he says, after I balance an equation in record time.
“My final’s on Thursday. I think I’m almost ready.”
“I have rehearsal Wednesday afternoon for our show Thursday, but how about if you come by practice and then we can go to my house and study? A final review before your test?”
His question warms me. He’s inviting me into his life, asking me to come by and hang out with him and the band, with people who matter to him. But I know I wouldn’t be able to concentrate. The thought of meeting the other guys is slightly intimidating. It might be best if I postpone that until sometime after the test, when I don’t need to be so focused.
“That would be great, but can I meet you at your house instead?”
“Sure. I’ll text you when I’m on my way home.”
We leave the café and cross campus together, walking side-by-side, our bodies sometimes brushing together. Before we get very far, a girl is suddenly in front of us, a blonde I remember from the day we walked to Aidan’s house.
Acting as if she can’t even see me, she stands directly in front of Aidan, her hand on her jutting hip, her expression one of teasing frustration. “Hey stranger, how are you?”
“Hi,” Aidan says, his tone neutral.
“Great show, Saturday,” the blonde says. “I love your new song!”
“Yeah? That’s great.” As Aidan answers her, he casually drapes his arm around my shoulders, earning me a death stare from his fan.
Her brows lift, then her eyes narrow, and I can read her “Who the fuck are you?” expression loud and clear. I stare back at her, not speaking, but letting my eyes answer hers.
“Okay, see you,” she says, as she abruptly walks away.
We start to walk again, and Aidan takes his arm off my shoulder but laces his fingers together with mine. It feels so casual and comfortable and it lights me up inside.
As we approach the edge of campus, he squeezes my hand and says, “I’d like you to come home with me, but I have to study for finals, and I know that won’t happen if I’m with you.”
“That’s okay. I have class in a little while.”
“I’ll see you Wednesday evening?”
“Yeah.”
We stop at the corner, and Aidan takes my cheek in his hand and leans in to softly brush his lips against mine. The scent of him and the taste of him have me wanting to melt into him, to wrap myself around him and never let go. When he parts my lips with his and gently brushes my tongue to mine, I put my arms around him and kiss him back, letting him know how much I’ve missed him.
By the time we finish our goodbye, I can feel his stiffness pressing into my thigh. “I wish we were alone right now,” I say.
“Yeah?” Aidan says, sounding on the verge of being out of breath.
“Yeah. I owe you some … attention.” I twist my hips slightly to push against his erection.
Aidan groans, the sound coming from deep down inside him. He rests his forehead against mine and says, “You don’t owe me anything, but I’ll look forward to that happening sometime.”
He seems to grow harder still pressing against me. “Did I just make it worse?” I ask.
He gives me a rueful grin followed by one more quick kiss. “I’ll live.” Aidan holds his bag in front of him, throws a sexy smile my way, and heads off toward his house.
Chapter 26
Amber
I take two tests over the next two days and they go well. Between them, I continue to review my chemistry notes. I know I’ve improved, but I’m not completely confident that it will be enough.
My mood alternates sharply between nervousness over my chem final and pure, high-flying happiness. Over and over, I replay Aidan’s “I can’t stay away from you,” and feel like I could float away on a cloud. But then I bring myself back down to earth, and continue to run reviews of formulas, symbols and molecules. Would it be weird to confess that chemistry is starting to seem just a little bit sexy, since I’ve got it all tangled up with Aidan in my mind?
Shortly after five on Wednesday, I hear from Aidan as promised. I’ll be home in a few minutes. Are you ready to study?
Be there soon, I reply.
When I get to his house, Aidan’s dad is already home and greets me warmly. As Aidan and I get settled in the dining room, Mr. Holt doesn’t even bother poking around the kitchen. “We were about to order Chinese, Amber. What would you like?”
“I was kind of hoping you’d let me cook again,” I say. I do truly love cooking, and it would provide a nice change of pace from studying and taking tests, but the real joy of it comes from Mr. Holt’s response. He breaks into a broad grin and doesn’t even bother protesting.
“I was kind of hoping you’d offer,” he says, laughing as he mirrors my words.
I take over the kitchen again, finding fresh ground meat in the refrigerator and an open pack of hamburger buns on the counter. I recalled seeing pasta and canned tomatoes in the pantry last time, and when I find those, I decide to make spaghetti. I make a meat sauce for the pasta and toast the buns with butter and garlic powder.
It is possibly an even more simple meal than the omelets, but again both men act like I’ve served them a Sunday dinner that I slaved over for hours. “This is delicious, Amber,” Aidan’s dad tells me. “Superlative, in fact.” Their response makes me want to cook something for them that’s actually impressive.
There’s something sexy about watching Aidan enjoy food I’ve prepared for him, too. Of course, everything Aidan does is sexy, so … yeah.
After we eat, Mr. Holt says he’ll clean up so that we can get started on studying, and Aidan leads me down the hall to his bedroom. Once we’re inside his small room, he closes the door behind him, and I draw in a breath.
I want to look all around his space, to see what he has on his walls and desk, to find more clues about what’s important to him. I notice a Black Keys poster, a bookshelf, and a soccer ball in the corner, but as soon as the door closes and we’re alone, I can’t look away from him.
He seems bigger in this enclosed space. With his dark head framed against the white background of his door, he stares back at me. He raises an eyebrow and turns his mouth up into that wicked grin. “What?” he says, sounding on the verge of laughter.
I know I’m looking at him with wide eyes, and I can’t help it. “Nothing,” I say, smiling back at him.
“You look pretty excited to get started studying,” he says.
“Oh, I am,” I say. My eyes drop to his lips, then to his chest, broad in a baby blue t-shirt. My gaze drops lower to his lean hips, snug in dark jeans. I can’t believe I’m thinking the thoughts I am, with Aidan’s dad right in the other room, but I can’t help it. I want to touch him.
Aidan clears his throat and I pull my eyes back up to his. “Ms. Paulson. I take my tutoring responsibilities very seriously, and I think you need to get your mind back onto chemistry.”
I give him a playful pout, and Aidan quickly closes the space between us. He kisses me softly and then pulls back. “The test is important. Let’s make sure you’re ready.” His voice is soft and deep, and does things to my body that make it very hard for me to think about school at all.
“Okay, you’re right.” I pull out my notes and my tablet and we settle onto Aidan’s bed to study. On his bed. It takes several long minutes before I manage to forget my surro
undings and focus on the lessons.
He takes the lead, quizzing me on all the things I need to have memorized, and I answer all of his questions correctly. Then we work on equations, and find a few weak spots. Aidan gives me more tips, we practice some more, and then review everything all over again.
Eventually the formulas start to blur, and Aidan, next to me on the bed, comes into sharper focus.
“How do you calculate molar mass?” he asks.
All I can think about is his leg pressed against mine. “I want to calculate your mass,” I whisper, putting my hand on his thigh.
His eyes darken and his face grows more serious. He gets up and silently twists the lock on his door, then he lies on the bed on his back, pulling me down with him. I nestle in beside him as we kiss, and though we’ve kissed many times now, being horizontal, on his bed, all alone, takes it to a whole new level. I’m instantly breathless with longing, hyper aware of the length of his body pressed against the entire length of mine.
I wrap my arm around his chest, and as we kiss, I slowly move my hand lower, skimming across his flat stomach before I fumble around in search of the snap on his jeans. Aidan groans quietly as my fingers touch the bare skin at his waist, then I feel his hand come down to help me.
I lay my head on his chest and watch as he unzips and frees himself. His room is brightly lit, and I’m glad he can’t see my face because I’m sure my eyes go wide at the sight of him. I’ve seen cocks before, of course, but Aidan’s just looks so big.
He pushes his jeans and underwear down on his hips, and wraps his hand around his cock, aiming it toward the ceiling. He runs his palm down the length of it, and I watch it grow at his touch. It’s long and thick, and beautiful.
I wrap my hand around it, just below Aidan’s, and he puts his hand over mine. Squeezing my hand gently, he guides me in a slow stroke of his cock.
“Hang on a minute,” he whispers. He stretches his other arm out to his nightstand drawer and pulls out a small bottle of lubricant. My heart beats even faster at the sight of it, and my mind floods with questions about what kind of experience he’s had, and how he’s used the lube.
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