by Mia Madison
The next week, I started teaching my new composition class, and I tried to keep busy, especially at night. But after I’d graded papers and done my own homework, all I wanted to do was to hop online and chat with TJ. Well, actually, what I wanted to do was to drive over to his place and demand that he take me back. But chatting would have been great, too. I’d never met someone so easy to talk to—and someone I wanted to talk to that much.
At least once a day I broke down into tears. Sometimes it was after I saw him. Sometimes it was when I forgot and absentmindedly checked my phone to see if there was a message from him. Which there hadn’t been, in nearly two months. Just a Christmas card—somehow, he’d found my parents’ address in Florida.
Nights were the worst. My bed felt so empty. Which was stupid, because we’d never even planned to be together in my bed. Our plan had been to go to his place for my first time. But I’d never been to his place and I didn’t know what it looked like, so I always visualized him here, in my room.
That was probably what hurt the worst. That we’d planned for that wonderful night and then it never happened. It wasn’t about losing my virginity. That concern had long since fled my mind. What killed me was that I lost the chance to be with TJ—the most wonderful man I’d ever met. We could have spent the entire night together, what would likely have been the first of many. To have that snatched away in a single instant was one of the worst moments of my life.
In my dreams, I kept returning to the restaurant. Hearing him invite me over. Accepting. All those feelings of anticipation, eagerness, nervous excitement. Not to mention longing, lust, and… well, there was another “L” word that I wouldn’t even permit myself to think. It didn’t matter anymore, not if we couldn’t be together. But it my dreams it did. In my dreams, Dr. Harper never appeared. In my dreams, TJ and I were together.
Needless to say, I was spending more time in bed this semester. For one thing, no more late night chats with TJ. For another, when I was asleep, I got to be with him. But mornings were the worst. Some mornings I’d wake up and the tears would seep out from under my eyelids before I’d even open them.
To keep busy, I took to volunteering at the university writing center to help tutor undergraduate students. One day Tina came in, the single mother who’d been in my class last semester. She was still struggling with her writing, but the one-on-one tutoring really helped. By mid-February, she was showing definite improvements from our sessions.
Then one day in late February, I got back to my office after class, and there was an e-mail from TJ. Not on my phone, but through the university e-mail system. My heart beat quickened even though I knew that he’d never send anything personal by university e-mail. Or by any means, actually. I know he was only concerned about my career, but sometimes I just wished we could both say screw it and run away together.
For some reason, I was holding my breath. Stupid to get my hopes up. Shaking my head at my lack of brains, I clicked open the message. Yep, I’d been very stupid to get my hopes up. There was nothing in it that even gave a hint of how we felt about each other. It was addressed to “Ms. Bruckner.” And Dr. Harper was CC’d, I suppose so that TJ could show her that he wasn’t doing anything untoward.
I read the short note and tried not to let disappointment flood through me.
Dear Ms. Bruckner,
A colleague from Fairview Community College has been observing some classes in our department in an effort to learn more about our program. He would like to observe the class of a graduate teaching assistant, and your class works best with his schedule. Would you mind if sat in on your classes next week?
Sincerely,
Thomas Jenson, Ph.D.
God. After all the hundreds of thousands of words we’d exchanged at CUNFESHUNZ and through texts, it was amazing to hear how much like a stranger he sounded. But I knew he had no choice. Still, it stung.
I sent back an equally formal response saying that that was all right with me. And that was that. Our only contact in weeks.
It was sad. It was pathetic. I needed to get over him and move on. I knew that—but I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to move on. I wanted him.
And I also wanted to be able to get through one damn day without crying. Obviously, today wasn’t going to be that day.
Maya
And then, in mid-April on a Wednesday afternoon, it happened.
Will you have dinner with me? Friday night at The Steakhouse. I made a reservation for eight o’clock. Please say yes.
All I could do was to stare at my phone. After all this time, a message from TJ. He’d been so strong, strong enough to resist temptation for both our sakes. But now he was texting me. Inviting me to dinner. And it wasn’t even some far off place, like where we’d gone before. The Steakhouse was on the edge of town, but it was still only a few miles from the university.
Had something changed? Did he not care about his career—or mine—anymore? A million questions raced through my mind, but my response was just one word. Yes.
The next forty-eight hours passed by so slowly that it seemed more like forty-eight days. But at ten to eight, I was outside The Steakhouse, nervously brushing at my skirt. I’d worn the blue dress I wore to our last ill-fated restaurant date. Not that this was a date. Actually, I didn’t know what it was. I’d been careful to keep myself as expectation-free as possible. I’d spent time primping, moisturizing my skin, arranging my hair just so, putting extra care into my makeup, but I hadn’t allowed myself to think. To hope. Because I couldn’t get my hopes up and have them dashed again. I wouldn’t survive it.
Even though I was ten minutes early, TJ was already there. A greeter led me to his table, and he rose when I neared. God, he looked incredible. He was wearing a black suit this time with a crimson tie. He looked like a model. He looked miles out of my league. But there he was, waiting for me. I still didn’t know what it meant, though.
When I got to the table, I hesitated. He moved toward me, and I didn’t know if we were supposed to maintain a safe distance, or hug, or kiss, or what. I know what I wanted to do, but I didn’t know what he intended. Then I looked up into his eyes, and all other thoughts left my mind. His dark, piercing eyes. His smile. His short, sexy beard.
A moment later, I was in a chair, sitting across from him, drinking in his handsome appearance, but I couldn’t remember how I got there. Had we hugged? I had a brief memory of his hand on my arm, guiding me into my seat.
I needed to focus, but just being near him after all this time was overwhelming my senses. He used to have that effect on me, and the time apart had apparently only made it stronger.
The sight of his soft, kissable lips distracted me for a few moments before I realized that I was supposed to be listening, not just watching his talented mouth move. “I’m sorry?” I said.
“I said, I ordered a bottle of wine for us. It’s a mellow white. I know you don’t care much for wine, but you might like this.”
Wine. He’d ordered wine. “Are we… are we celebrating something?” Even just to see him again was worth a celebration in my book, but if he’d ordered wine… I couldn’t even begin to imagine what that was for. Had Dr. Harper suddenly had a change of heart about the suitability of our relationship?
The look TJ gave me was warm and tender. It made my pulse spike even before he spoke. “Yes, we are.”
But then the waiter was there, and TJ didn’t say anything more as the waiter served uncorked and poured the wine.
And then I had a glass in my hand, a sweet aroma reaching my nose. But all the rest of my senses were focused on TJ. Willing him to speak. Willing him to have some good news.
And he did.
“I got a new job.”
My hand jerked violently as I took that in, and a few drops of the white liquid spilled out. “You did?”
“I did. As of May 15th, I’m not your coworker anymore.”
“You’re not?” At some point I had to do something besides parrot short questions back
at him, but my mind was reeling too much for anything else right now.
“No, I’m not. Which means I can be your boyfriend—if you still want me to be.”
“But… but… I mean, yes, of course I want that. But what will we do in August?”
TJ frowned at me in confusion, still holding his glass aloft. “What happens in August? We didn’t meet until October, so it can’t be some kind of anniversary.”
“No, I mean when you start at your new school. I’ll still have another year here… unless your new school has a masters’ program I can transfer to.”
“It doesn’t have any kind of graduate program for you,” TJ said, his eyes twinkling despite his words.
“So… we can only be together for this summer until you move?” That was better than nothing. Much better. But… I’d learned how hard it was to lose TJ the first time. Was I strong enough to go through that again?
“I thought about moving, but since my house is only ten minute from Fairview, I decided against it.”
I stared at him in shock as he clinked his wine glass against mine and then brought it to his smiling lips.
But I couldn’t see anything to smile about. “No!”
TJ looked up as the word exploded from my mouth.
“You can’t give up a tenure-track position at a world class university to teach at a community college. You can’t do that, TJ.”
“I can, and I did.”
He was still smiling at me as if this was a good thing. But I couldn’t let him throw away his career. Not for me or for anything.
“Besides, who says I’ll be teaching?”
“They don’t even have a real English Department,” I fumed, barely hearing him. “You’re a brilliant professor. You can’t waste your time teaching Comp 101 or Brit Lit in a place like that.”
“Again, who says I’ll be teaching? I mean, I hope I’ll teach a class or two at some point. But I’ll be pretty busy as the head of the department.”
“You’ll be the department chair?” I gaped at him. That was certainly a surprise. But still… “But they barely have a department to begin with.”
“So I have my work cut out for me then, won’t I? That’s why I approached them. I knew they didn’t have a very strong program in place, and I knew I could do some good there. It was you that put me onto the idea.”
“Me? How’d I do that?” Carefully, I set my glass down. The wine actually did look good, but I had never been less interested in food or drink.
“With your talk about your student with the poor writing skills last semester. The single mom who took some writing classes at Fairview and didn’t learn much. All students need a solid basis in writing if they ever want to get decent jobs.”
Nodding absently, I thought over his news. And at last, I said what I should have said at the start. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you,” he said, with a huge smile. “So we won’t be colleagues anymore. No more sneaking around. No more hiding. We can be together—finally. If that’s what you want.”
“That's what I want,” I said, but the answer was almost automatic. I should be thrilled—and part of me was—but still, there was a nagging doubt in the back of my head. He would be good at the community college, there was no question about that, but he’d given up so much for me.
TJ looked at me with some concern. “Was there a ‘but’ coming?”
“No. Well, yeah. Sort of. I mean… If you’re sure this is what you want, then I’m really excited about it. But… well, I know that this is thinking ahead. I mean, who knows if in a year’s time we’ll still… I mean, no one can know, not really.”
TJ’s grin lit up the table. “What I believe you’re trying—and failing—to say is that I’ve only bought us a year. Right?”
“Well… yeah.”
“But a year together is better than just a summer. And a summer is better than nothing, right?”
“Right. Of course.” Why was he grinning like that? Did he really not care that a year from now, I’ll graduate and have to move to another city, likely another state, to find work? There was no way I’d get hired at the university. Graduates had to get years of work experience and a Ph.D. before they’d be hired by a school like that.
“So think of this year as a gift. It’s the best a mild-mannered English professor can do.”
“It’s wonderful,” I said, mustering a smile. “It’s more than I ever expected—especially from a mild-mannered English professor.”
“Yep. So it’s a damned good thing that I’m no longer an English professor. Department heads have a lot more power. Here,” he said, and he reached in the pocket of his suit and handed me an envelope.
“What’s this?” I said, taking it but not opening it.
“An offer letter. For you. To teach composition at Fairview once you graduate.”
I gasped. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
The small white envelope suddenly felt heavier in my hand. Did it really contain an offer letter?
“But… isn’t that the same situation as before? Us being colleagues and having a relationship?”
“Not at all. We won’t be an advisor and student anymore.”
“But you’ll be the head of the department, and I’ll be one of your…” I trailed off. What was the right word? Employee? Underling? No, that wasn’t right.
“You’ll be a valued member of my department.”
“Your department,” I said, another thought hitting and cutting right through the happiness that was trying to bubble up inside me. “So they’re only hiring me because they want you.”
“They want you because you’re a good instructor, not because you’re some kind of signing bonus.”
“They don’t know that,” I protested.
“Actually, they do.” TJ’s grin was smug now. “Remember that man who observed a week of your classes in the middle of the semester?”
I gasped. “I thought you said he was here to observe the whole department.”
“I did say that. But he was mostly here to see you.”
“So… that was kind of like an interview and I never even knew?”
“Yep. Good thing you really impressed him.”
“I did?”
“You did.”
My mind was whirling. Could I really stay in town and work in the same department as TJ? Be with him without having to worry about searching all across the country for a job after I graduated?
“I can see the gears in your mind turning, Maya. What’s your next objection?”
“Not objections. I’m just being cautious. I don’t want to get my hopes up until I’m sure.”
His eyes sobered. “I understand that. But I’m sure. I’ve been working on this for months. It’s going to work out. We’re going to work out.”
“It seems too good to be true.”
“That’s what I’ve been thinking about you ever since I met you.”
Aww. “The feeling is very mutual.”
“Good. So have you gotten all of your objections out of the way?”
“Yes,” I said, with a sheepish grin. I was still processing—this was a lot to take in after all these months. But the hope inside me refused to be quelled any longer. “No more objections.”
“Good to know. Because the next part of my plan is to take you home after dinner and make love to you. If there are no further objections,” he said with a wink.
“Just one,” I said, my voice trembling with excitement.
“What’s that?”
“The ‘after dinner’ part,” I said. “I don’t think I can wait that long.”
TJ glanced over my shoulder, located the waiter, and raised a finger in the air.
“Check, please.”
Maya
TJ’s living room was spacious with comfortable, well-made furniture. It was tastefully decorated in a way that was both masculine and stylish. The bookcases and the artwork on the wall reflected his personality perfectly.<
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But all I could look at was him.
“I can’t believe I’m here,” I murmured as his lips moved across my neck. We’d barely made it in the door before he had me in his arms.
“I can’t either. You have no idea how many times I thought about that night we’d planned before we got caught. For months I could think of nothing else.”
“Me either.”
He nipped his way down my throat and planted a little kiss at the top of my chest between my collarbones. Then he tongued his way up to my ear and nipped on my earlobe. “Where are my manners. Would you like a tour of the house?”
“Yes,” I breathed. “Starting with the bedroom.”
“I’d planned to end there,” he whispered huskily in my ear.
“Okay,” I said agreeably. “We’ll start and end there.”
He chuckled. “Okay, but it’s on you if you get the munchies in the middle of the night and can’t find the kitchen.” He straightened up, his arm around my waist, and then suddenly, I was up in the air, my purse dropping to the ground.
Shrieking with surprise, I squirmed in his arms as he carried me deeper into the house. We turned a corner too, and he kicked open a door. I had my hand around his neck, his short, dark hair grazing my fingers as we went.
And then I was on a bed, a large, king-size bed, and TJ laid down next to me, and picked up where he left off kissing me.
“I’m glad,” I murmured as his lips caressed mine.
“Me too,” he whispered, teasing my mouth open with his tongue. But then he stopped. “Glad about what?”
I laughed softly. “Everything. Glad we’re together. Glad we can stay together. Glad we’re here right now. And glad that you’re my first.”
“Then me too. About all those things.”
He leaned over me, his hand cupping my breast as he kissed me thoroughly, making me practically melt into the comforter beneath me. The heat from his body burned into my side. Every touch from him, his hand, his lips, was a slow burn.