Blurry: A Student Teacher, Age Gap Romance

by Michelle Hercules

  His confession makes me feel a thousand times better. I smile against his chest.

  “You don’t think I also worry this is nothing but a dream? I’ve never loved anyone as fiercely as I love you, Goldi,” he continues.

  My heart soars. I look up again.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. And it terrifies me. I lost my best friend, and I almost lost my mother. I don’t think I can handle losing you too.”

  The pain etched on Alistair’s face breaks my heart. I caress his scruffy cheek while I grasp for what to say. Nothing seems adequate. I can promise I’ll never leave him, but I can’t cheat death.

  “Tell me about Jamie.”

  Alistair releases a heavy breath and looks out in the distance. “Show business is tough, more so when you’re young. I loved acting, don’t get me wrong, but the pressure of growing up in front of millions wasn’t easy. Jamie and I bonded early on during the show, and we helped each other out when things got tough. He knew things not even my parents or Forrester did.”

  He threads his fingers through his short hair, taking a deep breath.

  “When he killed himself, it came as a shock to me. I was his best friend, and I never knew he was suicidal. I blamed myself for not seeing the signs, for not being there when he needed me the most. My way of coping was not good, as I said already.”

  “Alistair, surely you know it wasn’t your fault.”

  “Yeah, now I do.”

  I brush my thumb over his lips, desperately needing to see that sadness gone from his eyes.

  Desire sparks in his gaze. He grabs my wrist and then shortens the distance between our mouths. The kiss is soft at first, but like always, they never stay innocent for long, and before I know it, I’m lying on my back and he’s on top of me.

  “Alistair, won’t your parents see us?”

  “After all that wine, they’re sound asleep.”

  He trails open kisses down my collarbone while he runs his hands down my arms. I’m wearing a thick sweater and jeans. I didn’t expect a make-out session outside his parents’ house.

  Alistair scooches back, lifting my sweater and the T-shirt up, revealing my stomach and bra in the process. Instead of trying to cover myself, I arch my back, offering my breasts to him. He cups them with his large hands and licks my cleavage, sending a shot of pleasure down my spine.

  He pushes my bra up, freeing my girls. The cold air makes my nipples turn hard in an instant, and when he sucks one of them into his hot mouth, I let out a moan. It’s going to be extra hard to keep the volume down.

  Alistair switches his attention to my other breast while he cups my sex over my jeans. As much as I wish there were no barriers between us, the friction of his hand over the fabric feels amazing.

  “Oh my God. You’re killing me, Alistair.”

  He presses his thumb over my clit, making a circular motion. Dio Santo. My entire body is caught in an electric current. I couldn’t stop the orgasm from coming so suddenly even if I tried.

  I cover my face with the blanket to muffle my cries as I come swiftly. That was record time. I’m still riding the wave of pleasure when he lifts me in his arms.

  “Where are we going?”

  “I need a bed for what I plan to do with you.”

  He strides across the backyard and reaches our little piece of heaven in a few seconds. Kicking the door closed, Alistair seals his lips with mine, and together we fall onto the bed. We’re acting in a frenzy, our hands working furiously to rid the other’s clothes.

  Finally completely naked, Alistair lies on his back with me on top. I rub my aching core against his cock, but he has other ideas. He grabs me by the hips and pulls me farther up until I’m practically sitting on his face.

  “Alistair, what are you doing?”

  “I want to feast on your sweet pussy, Goldi.” His warm breath fans over my sensitive skin, and pleasure makes my toes curl.

  “I have a better idea.”

  I turn around, leaning forward until his erection is within reach. Grabbing his cock at the base, I bring his entire length into my mouth at the same time he strokes my clit with his tongue. I almost forget what I’m doing for a moment, but his grunts spur me on, so I try my best to concentrate on the task at hand. I love the saltiness on his skin, how with each stroke he gets larger in my mouth. When he begins to pump his hips up and down, I know he’s close to his release. And so am I.

  He grunts against my pussy right before his hot seed fills my mouth. I climax not long after, fighting to keep myself from collapsing too soon.

  After I finish drinking everything Alistair has to give me, my muscles finally give out. I fall to the side and don’t move for several beats, more than happy to lie next to the man I love in this awkward position. I only open my eyes when I feel the mattress move. Alistair switches position in bed, and he’s now lying by my side, face-to-face.

  “That was amazing.” He kisses my nose.

  “I’ve never done that before.”

  “You’ve never had a sixty-nine?”

  “Nope. Before I met you, I was pretty much a virgin.”

  He grabs my ass, bringing me closer to his body. “What else have you never done before?”

  “I think it’s easier for me to list what I have done. I’m pretty vanilla when it comes to sex.”

  “It’s my favorite flavor.”

  He kisses me again before rolling on top of me. His cock is hard and ready to go.

  “Boy, you recover fast.”

  “It’s you, Goldi. It’s all you.”

  He thrusts forward, sliding in with ease.

  It seems we aren’t getting any sleep tonight.

  ALISTAIR

  The acrid smell of smoke wakes me from a very peaceful sleep. I blink my eyes open, feeling disoriented for a couple of seconds. The room is shrouded in darkness, and there’s no visible smoke around. So where the hell is the smell coming from?

  I freeze. Fuck. Throwing my legs to the side of the bed, I get up.

  “Alistair, what’s the matter?” Chiara asks in a sleepy voice.

  “Something isn’t right.”

  Not bothering to put clothes on, I head out. Instead of being greeted by a midnight blue sky, an orange horizon has my undivided attention.

  Wildfire.

  Lord have mercy.

  I run back inside the house, turning on the lights. “Chiara! Get up, get up.”

  She sits up in bed, looking startled. “What happened?”

  “The valley is on fire. We have to leave. It’s not safe here.”

  She blinks a couple of times, unmoving, before she jumps out of bed. I put last night’s clothes on as fast as I can, forgetting my socks as I shove my feet into my boots. I look at Chiara, relieved when I see she dressed just as fast. I take her hand and together we run to the main house. I burst through the back door, calling out to my parents. Dad and Mom emerge down the corridor, wearing their pj’s.

  “Alistair? What’s all that ruckus?”

  “Wildfire is coming our way. We have to leave.”

  It sickens me to witness the sorrowful glance my parents trade. The vineyard is everything they have, their dream. They only allow themselves that single exchange before spurring into action. While they get ready, I fill a duffel bag with supplies—food, medicine, and any item that might be necessary during an evacuation.

  “What can I do?” Chiara asks.

  “We need nonperishable food and water, lots of water,” I reply.

  “We just bought a case yesterday,” Dad says as he comes into the kitchen.

  “Where is Mom?”

  “She’s packing clothes and other irreplaceable items.”

  “I’ll go check if she needs help,” Chiara says before disappearing down the corridor.

  Dad turns on the TV, and what we see on the news channel makes my heart twist in agony. The entire Sonoma region is in danger.

  “Why weren’t you alerted?” I ask.

  “I forgot to si
gn up for it.”

  “Dad—”

  “Now is not the time for sermons, son. Come on, let’s get the trucks loaded.”

  Half an hour later, we’re on the road. The streets are already filled with smoke, and visibility is almost nil. When we get to town, flames have already claimed some of the buildings. Deputies from the Sonoma sheriff’s office are helping people evacuate. I see a family running on foot and don’t think twice as I stop the truck ahead of them.

  “Get in the car!” I shout.

  The father ushers his wife and son into my truck, saying a million thank-yous once they’re inside.

  “This is so awful. We had no warning,” the woman says.

  Chiara offers them water and gasps. “You’re hurt.”

  The traffic is moving at a crawl, so I chance a look back at the woman. Indeed, there’s a nasty burn on her forearm. “We need to take you to the hospital.”

  “They’re probably evacuating the nearest ones.”

  I hold the steering wheel tighter as frustration simmers in my gut. We finally begin to move faster again as we exit the residential area. On the outskirts of town, I spot a couple of news vans and ambulances parked on the side of the road, so I stop the car. A deputy tries to get us to move on, but I explain we have someone who needs medical attention.

  Both Chiara and I get out of the car to help the family. It’s not only the mother who‘s badly injured, but also the kid. The woman collapses in her husband’s arms, and finally the deputy understands the gravity of the situation. I pick up the kid and take him to the paramedics.

  I watch for a few minutes while they take care of the family I was lucky enough to spot in the middle of the road. If I hadn’t seen them, they probably wouldn’t have made it. Chiara is next to me, crying, and I throw my arm around her shoulders and kiss the top of her head. She looks up, her eyes wide and filled with tears. Soot blemishes her cheeks. I try to wipe it off with my thumb, only to make it worse.

  “Alistair, we need to get moving, son.” My father’s head is sticking out of his car, a look of urgency on his face.

  “Come on, let’s get out of here,” I say.

  40

  Chiara

  When we got back to LA Saturday afternoon, I asked Alistair to drop me off at home; I didn’t want to be an extra burden on him while he tried to deal with the aftermath of the fire that most likely destroyed his parents’ vineyard. He protested like I thought he would, but he didn’t fight too much.

  Throughout the day, Alistair and I exchanged several messages, but we didn’t talk until late Sunday night. The worst had been confirmed. The fire had reached the vineyard and probably torched it to the ground. I cried in silence, not wanting to let Alistair know how devastated I was for him and his family. His voice sounded hollow, and I wanted nothing more than to comfort him.

  I didn’t sleep for shit last night, so it’s no surprise this morning that I look like a raccoon, and no amount of concealer can hide the dark circles under my eyes. I put on my sunglasses and head to class, knowing Alistair won’t be at school today. I arrive to class one minute before it starts, finding the room already full.

  Everyone’s gaze turns in my direction, and the previously silent area gets filled with low murmurs. What the hell is going on? Did I forget to put my skirt on? I look down, finding everything in place.

  I take one step forward before I’m yanked back and pulled out of the classroom by Robbie and Phillip.

  “What the hell? Why did you do that?”

  “I’m saving you from a mortifying situation,” Robbie replies. “Come on. We need to go.”

  With his hand firmly clasping mine, he keeps walking until we’re out of the building. It’s only then that I dig my heels into the ground and pull free from his hold.

  “For fuck’s sake, Robbie. What the hell is going on? You’re freaking me out.”

  He takes a deep breath and looks at his shoes. “Chiara, I don’t know how to say this.”

  “You’re making me nervous, Robbie.”

  “You and Mr. Walsh made the front page of the LA Times,” Phillip pipes up.

  My stomach bottoms out even though I don’t know what he means. “What are you talking about?”

  “There’s a picture of you and Mr. Walsh in a candid moment. The newspaper liked your picture so much, they decided to post it. Right now, it just says two of Sonoma’s fire victims comfort each other, but both of you are recognizable. It won’t take long for people to connect the dots.”

  I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose. “I believe that already happened. Everyone was staring at me in class. Hell, Alistair! I need to warn him.”

  “I’m pretty sure he already knows,” Robbie says.

  I shake my head. “If he did, he would have called me.”

  No sooner do I say those words than my phone rings. With a shaking hand, I dig for the device in my purse. It’s him.

  “Hello?”

  “Chiara, I’m glad you’re not in class yet.”

  “I know about our picture,” I blurt out.

  “I’m so, so sorry. I’ll fix this. I promise.”

  If I didn’t already love this man, I would have fallen in love with him right now. He’s dealing with so many problems already, and the outing of our relationship will only make his life even more complicated. But here he is, worrying about me.

  “I’ll be fine. I’m with Robbie and Phillip. They saved me from school today.”

  “Good. You shouldn’t be alone. Go home. I’ll call you when I know the extent of the damage.”

  “Okay.”

  “Everything will be fine, Goldi. I promise. I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  He ends the call, but I remain frozen, staring at my phone for a couple of beats.

  “What did he say?” Phillip asks.

  “He told me to go home and wait to hear from him.”

  “I don’t think you should go back to your apartment,” Robbie replies. “It’s only a matter of time before the media finds out you’re his student. And you know Nadine will create a circus.”

  “What am I supposed to do, then?”

  “Come home with me. You can lie low for a while there and stay as long as you need.”

  “Okay. I appreciate that.”

  “I’ll go back to school,” Phillip states. “You need someone to report on the gossip.”

  “Oh, Phillip. They’re going to think you were cheated on.”

  He gives me a lopsided grin. “Hey, that’s okay. I’ll get all the pity from the girls.”

  Robbie crosses his arms. “Yeah, that’s peachy. I don’t like it at all.”

  Phillip’s amused expression vanishes. “I’m sorry, Robbie, but what can we do?”

  “I guess nothing.” He links his arm with mine. “Come on, girl. Let’s get you out of here.”

  Before we can reach Robbie’s car in the school’s parking lot, we’re intercepted by a cameraman and the last person I ever wanted to meet—Nadine, Alistair’s ex.

  She points at me. “There she is, the little Italian whore who thought she could steal my husband.”

  What the hell!

  “Hey, what do you think you’re doing?” Robbie shouts at the cameraman who’s practically in my face.

  “Get out of my way!” I push him off.

  “Not so fast.” Nadine blocks my path. “Do you think you can fuck my husband and not expect any type of retribution from me? I don’t think so.”

  “Oh, but cheating on your husband with his friend is okay? If I’m a whore, what the hell are you?”

  The slap to the face comes fast, and I’m unable to protect myself. My ears ring and my eyes water. Fuck, I had forgotten how much one of those hurt.

  “Are you out of your goddamn mind?” Robbie yells. “Chiara, are you okay?” He positions himself in front of me, protecting me from another assault.

  “I’m fine,” I say.

  No, I’m not fine. I’m far from it.
But I won’t give Nadine the satisfaction of seeing me cry.

  “You’d better get your ass out of here before I call the police,” Robbie tells Nadine.

  “With pleasure. I’ve already delivered my message.”

  I watch the viper walk away with cameraman in tow. Does that mean she got the contract for her reality TV show?

  I touch my sore face, and once the anger recedes, it leaves me devastated and hollow. The confrontation with Nadine reminded me too much of my relationship with my mother.

  “Come on, let’s get you out of here,” Robbie says.

  I nod, wanting nothing more than to hide away from the world.

  41

  Alistair

  I’ve been listening to Enzo shout in my living room for the past hour since I got off the phone with Chiara. He called me as soon as he saw our picture on the front of the LA Times, but yelling at me over the phone wasn’t enough. He had to come knocking. Now he’s furious because I’ve been recognized already, and the story running in all celebrity gossip outlets is reporting that Alistair Walsh, former child TV star, is having an affair with a student. People seem pretty hung up on the fact that I’m still legally married. Nadine must be loving all this.

  “I can’t believe you were that careless, Alistair. I just can’t believe it. You were so close to being free of that snake.” Enzo continues pacing back and forth in my kitchen.

  “Do you think I was worried about being caught in that moment?”

  “Fuck,” Enzo curses.

  “You should call Forrester,” my father says.

  He’s right; I should call him before he comes knocking at my door too.

  I head to my office to make the call in privacy. I don’t need Enzo breathing down my neck while I talk to Forrester. Too fucking bad he doesn’t answer his cell phone, so I call his office, getting his assistant.

  “He’s locked in a meeting at the moment,” she says, “but he wants you to come by his office as soon as possible.”

  “Of course. I’ll be there in an hour.”

  When I announce that I’m headed to DuBose, Enzo asks if that’s a wise idea. I tell him Forrester wants to see me in person.