by Vi Keeland
“How are things at home?” I prompted. “Did anything happen to make you have bad thoughts?”
“I wore the headphones you gave me.” Two weeks ago, she’d told me she got scared when her stepfather yelled at night. She had trouble falling asleep sometimes. I’d suggested she put on headphones and listen to her favorite song to drown out the sound. But she didn’t own headphones. So last week I put my extra set in the booth before she arrived and told her to take them home. I explained how shutting her eyes and singing quietly along with the music would help ease her into sleep.
“Did it help?”
“Yes. I fell asleep after the fourth time.”
I was probably delusional, but I felt like I was helping this kid in some screwed-up way. “That’s good.”
“I told my sister to try it, but she said she couldn’t.”
“Does she not have headphones?”
She didn’t respond for a few minutes. I’d begun to learn that her silence often spoke louder than her voice did.
“She has headphones. She got them for Christmas the year before our mom died. They were in her stocking.”
That feeling of dread hit the pit of my stomach. “So why does your sister think she can’t wear them? Does she not like music?”
“She has to listen for Benny.”
“What does that mean?”
“Sometimes when he’s drinking and mad, he comes into her room at night.”
Rachel
“Are you hungry?”
I’d debated asking the question in my head for the last five minutes. Even though I’d spent all day with Caine, I wasn’t ready for it to end. But I wanted my suggestion to have dinner to come off casual. He’d asked me to grab a bite to eat before, yet for some reason when it was me doing the asking, I felt like I was asking him out on a date.
Caine glanced over and then back to the road. He was quiet, and I got the feeling he was debating the appropriateness of our situation before answering. I was surprised when he said, “Starving. What did you have in mind?”
“I’m easy. There’s a Greek restaurant a few blocks from my place that’s good. Or there’s Chinese on Grand Street. Or we could go to O’Leary’s and then it’ll be my treat again.” I smirked at that last part.
“How about Greek, and my treat this time?”
“Sounds good. Take a left on Elwyn Street. It’s up on the right if we can find parking—Greek Delight.”
Inside the restaurant, the hostess sat us in a quiet booth in the back and brought us hummus and pita chips to snack on while we looked at the menu. I knew what I wanted, but Caine took out glasses from his pocket to read the menu. Those really worked on him, although I couldn’t help myself.
“How old are you that you need reading glasses?”
He looked up over the rim of his studious Burberry frames. “You wear glasses. Why does my needing reading glasses mean I’m old?”
“I have an astigmatism. I’ve needed them to read since I was in a training bra.”
Caine’s eyes dropped to my cleavage before returning to the menu. He grumbled something I didn’t catch. When I continued to stare at him, he took his glasses off and looked up at me. “What?”
“You didn’t answer my question. How old are you?”
“Old enough to be your professor.”
I dipped a piece of pita in the hummus and popped it in my mouth. “So, what? About sixty then?”
“I’m thirty-two, wiseass. Are you happy?”
I smiled. “I am, actually.”
Caine slipped his glasses back on and returned to the menu.
I leaned in. “You don’t look a day over thirty-one.”
He shook his head and continued reading, but I caught the corner of his lip twitch.
Why did I love that lip twitch? It felt like a little reward of some sort. I seriously needed my head examined when it came to this man.
After he seemed to have decided, he leaned back in the booth. “You’re doing a great job with your research.”
“Thank you.”
“It’s one hell of an interesting dynamic going on there.”
I remembered how awkward I’d felt sitting with the trio the first time. “I know. It was weird at the beginning, but I’ve gotten used to it now. Lydia is a pretty amazing person, isn’t she?”
“She is. Not sure I could do what she’s doing.”
“What do you mean?”
“Watch my wife sit there with another man and smile.”
“True love is selfless. She wants the best for him, even if that doesn’t include her anymore.”
The waitress brought our drinks and took our order. Caine had ordered a Greek beer, and I’d ordered my usual diet soda. I had to look away when his lips wrapped around the bottle. I was way too attracted to him to hide it very well.
“You sound like an expert on the subject. I take it you’ve been in love like that?” he asked.
“Not with a man.”
Caine’s brows jumped, and I realized what that must’ve sounded like—what he thought.
“I meant…I felt that way about my mother. Not that I’m a lesbian or anything. I like men. Not that I have anything against lesbians. I just prefer…you know…men when it comes to sex. Not that I have much of a sex life at the moment.” I was definitely babbling.
Caine chuckled. “You’re fucking adorable when you get embarrassed.”
I drank my cold soda to occupy my mouth and hopefully keep my skin from turning noticeably pink. “Anyway, when my mother was really sick, I wanted her to die so she wouldn’t be in pain anymore. I was going to be without a mother, but I didn’t care. I just wanted her to be at peace. That’s what Lydia and Umberto remind me of.” I set my glass down on the table. “How about you? Ever been in love like that?”
Caine shook his head. “Not sure I’m capable of selfless. Spent most of my life on the -ish side of self, rather than the -less.”
“No girlfriends?”
“Plenty of those. None that I wasn’t a selfish bastard with.”
I stared at him. “That’ll change when you meet the right woman.”
He brought the beer bottle to his lips. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m just destined for a life of selfish screwing. I could think of worse things.”
I couldn’t see Caine as selfish—he’d changed my tire after I told him off and interrupted his class. And I couldn’t imagine he wasn’t attentive in bed. He was so observant that it was often distracting, not to mention how intense he could be. Then there was the musician thing…skilled hands and good rhythm. No. There was no way Caine West was selfish in bed. Of that I was certain.
He squinted. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
“What do you mean?”
“You got quiet after I said there were worse things in life than selfish screwing.”
And there was the observant thing again. He paid attention to women. Men who paid attention were good in bed.
“I was just thinking about what you said. You don’t seem selfish to me.”
“We’re not in that kind of a relationship.”
“Maybe.” I shrugged. “But you seem too attentive to be selfish in that way, too.”
A look of understanding crossed Caine’s handsome face, as if he’d just realized what I was thinking. He leaned in to me with a wicked grin that made my heart palpitate.
“I didn’t mean I was selfish in bed.” His eyes dropped to my neck and slowly rose to focus on my mouth—which parted for his gaze. “A woman’s needs always come before my own. And I enjoy every minute of taking care of those needs.” His eyes returned to mine, and he leaned in even closer. “She comes before me…multiple times.”
I swallowed. My whole body reacted, and Caine knew it. He leaned back with a cocky smile and a gleam in his eyes.
When I finally attempted to speak, my hoarse voice croaked. “Then what are you selfish about?”
“The stuff that comes after we get out of bed. The relation
ship part.”
“Oh.”
“Not everyone has the ability to be Lydia.”
“I’m not sure I agree. I think we all have the ability to be Lydia. It’s a choice not to try and find your Umberto. And usually there’s a reason for that choice.”
The muscle in Caine’s jaw ticked, but he stayed silent. Luckily our food came shortly after that. Caine had ordered a falafel, and I’d ordered a gyro. We dug in and gave our full attention to eating, for the moment.
In no time, my meal had turned into a big mess. The pita had torn, and half of my gyro was leaking out. I didn’t realize, but white tzatziki sauce had dripped down the back of my hand.
“You have some sauce…” Caine pointed.
Still holding the gyro, I turned my wrist to look. The sauce had trailed down my hand, past my wrist, and was making its way steadily down my arm, about to drip onto my shirt. If I put down the disaster of a gyro, there was no way I’d be able to pick it back up without it falling apart. So, I licked a line from my arm up over my wrist to my finger, cleaning the mess in one long stroke. Not very ladylike, but it was better than wearing it on my nice shirt.
When I looked up, Caine was staring at me. “Christ. Are you trying to get me fired?”
“What?”
His eyes moved back and forth between mine. “You really have no goddamn clue, do you?”
“I don’t understand.”
Caine looked down at his food, shaking his head. “Just finish eating. We should go.”
The ride back to my apartment was awkward. Neither of us said a word. Honestly, I had no idea what to say. I’d realized Caine’s comments had to mean he was turned on by my inadvertent lick show, but it was also a reminder that I needed to stop fantasizing about something that was never going to happen.
When we arrived at my apartment building, Caine double parked and turned off the ignition. “I’m going to walk you up.”
“You don’t have to do that. I’m fine.”
“I’m not leaving you at the curb.” He opened his door, effectively closing the discussion.
“Okay then,” I mumbled to myself.
The awkwardness continued as we rode the elevator up to my apartment. I fumbled for my keys in front of my door. “Thank you again for taking me on and coming with me today.”
“Of course. I’d do it for any student.”
Another reminder. One that hurt.
I unlocked the door and opened it. “Would you like to come in? I could make you some coffee or something?” I really wasn’t propositioning him to come in for the proverbial night cap. It just seemed like the polite thing to say.
Caine was quiet for a very long moment. “I think it’s best we don’t spend time together outside of class anymore. Your research is solid, and I think we have the semester schedule planned out well enough. If you need to discuss your thesis, the department secretary has access to my calendar and can set up an appointment.”
Maybe we had gotten a little too friendly, but… “Did I do something to upset you?”
“No.” He lifted his chin toward the inside of my apartment. “Lock up behind you.”
I took a quick shower, changed into an old concert T-shirt to sleep, and climbed into bed feeling confused and sad. My feelings for Caine had grown despite the fact that I knew it was stupid to fall for a man who had no interest in a relationship, even if he hadn’t been my professor. I tried to fall asleep, but it was no use.
Plucking my phone from the charger, I thought I might type my notes from today into an email to add to my research later. But when I powered my cell on, it opened to my last text from Davis. I’d completely forgotten to respond to his comment regarding me not texting that I missed him, too.
Even though the timing was off for us, Davis never gave me mixed signals. He didn’t play hot and cold. He owned up to his feelings and was honest with me. I sighed and texted back.
Rachel: I miss you, too.
Rachel
Caine had successfully avoided me for four days.
Until today. There would be no way to avoid seeing me unless he skipped the once-per-semester, mandatory faculty meeting TAs were required to attend, as well as professors.
I was sitting alone in the back of the large conference room with a seat open next to me—not that I was saving it for anyone in particular. Caine hadn’t shown up yet. Each time someone walked in, my eyes darted to the door. The music department chair had taken his place at the front of the room, readying to begin, when Caine finally showed up.
Stopping in the doorway, his eyes scanned the room, falling on me before quickly looking anywhere else. He couldn’t have taken a seat farther away from me.
I was surprised his hair didn’t catch fire during the forty-five minute meeting with the way my eyes were burning into the back of his head. After it was over, I stayed in my seat to see if he would walk back out the door without a single word.
Caine stood and glanced over at me, but was quickly joined by a woman who walked over to greet him with a big smile. She wore a bright pink suit that screamed for attention, but aside from that, she was actually rather pretty—though I hated to admit that. I’d seen her around the halls and knew she was an adjunct professor, although I didn’t know her name.
Professor Pink was also the complete opposite of me—she had unnaturally blonde, Marilyn Monroe-type hair, stood only a few inches shorter than Caine, and her suit, even being a tacky color, was definitely designer. She was very touchy-feely with Professor West, and there was a definite familiarity in the way she rested her hands on his arms as they spoke. After the second or third time she tossed her hair back and laughed, I was done watching. Standing up, I headed for the door but got stuck behind two professors who were talking while they walked and moving as slow as shit.
Caine and Professor Pink were a few people ahead of me in line to exit the room, and he made a point not to look in my direction. When his hand went to the small of her back to usher her out the door, I realized I was a total idiot. Obviously the mighty professor didn’t have an issue with fraternization—unless it was with me.
Screw him. I couldn’t believe how full of shit he was.
As soon as I was out of the conference room, I bolted down the hall. My legs couldn’t get me off campus fast enough. I was annoyed for thinking it was possible Caine was interested in me but held back because I was his assistant. Even more so, I was pissed at him for pretending that was the case. I hadn’t been imagining the signals he gave the other night at dinner.
I’d nearly made it out of the building when I abruptly stopped, causing a student to crash right into me.
“What the hell?” he barked.
“Sorry.”
I started walking again. I should get the hell out of this building, but I knew myself—certain things ate at me. If I didn’t get this off my chest, I was going to be miserable all day. I needed to go give Caine a piece of my mind. Screw it.
Turning around, I crashed into the same student again.
“Seriously?” he said.
“Jeez. You’ll live. Don’t walk so close behind people!”
I took off for Caine’s office. I might lose my job for telling him off, but at least I would be able to sleep tonight. So what if I was proving his point that I was tightly wound?
The door to Caine’s office was cracked open. I paused to collect my thoughts for a moment, then reached for the door handle. Screw knocking. But a woman’s voice stopped me from busting in. Her laughter hit my skin, sparking a fire that burned its way up to my cheeks. I hadn’t heard Professor Pink’s voice earlier, yet somehow I was certain it was her.
“Remember that little Italian place?” the woman said. “The one with the fireplace in the back?”
“Giordano’s.”
“Yes, that’s the one. We should go there again sometime. The dessert cart looked incredible.” She paused. “Although we didn’t make it to dessert that night, did we?”
I’d heard eno
ugh. I didn’t stay for Caine’s response. I couldn’t. As pissed off as I was when I’d marched my ass to his office, hearing him with another woman had turned that into hurt and embarrassed—something I preferred not to let others see. So, I prescribed myself my own therapy and instead of barging into his office, I popped my earbuds in and headed home.
I had zero desire to go out to our monthly friends’ dinner tonight. I preferred to stay at home and wallow in self-pity. But when I attempted to cancel, Ava guilted me into showing up. So, I forced myself to get ready. Screw it. If I didn’t feel good, I might as well look good. Plus, blow-drying my hair was oddly therapeutic for me. I found the constant, repetitive brushing and smoothing very calming.
Needless to say, my thick, naturally curly hair was pin straight by the time I was done—I’d needed a lot of calming. Since I’d taken the time to make my locks look good, I went all out with a full face of makeup and even put on a cute outfit and high-heeled sandals.
Davis’s expression told me he, at least, appreciated the extra effort when I arrived at O’Leary’s. Tonight it was only me, him, and Ava since our other former roommate was away with her new boyfriend on a cruise. Once the three of us sat down, I was glad I’d come. I really did enjoy my time with these guys. We laughed as we caught up, mostly at the crazy stories Ava told. But then just a half hour into our night, Sal, the new waiter, came over and said he was sick and needed to leave. He asked if one of us could call Charlie to come in and take over his shift.
Since there were only a few hours until the kitchen closed anyway, Ava and I both volunteered to cover for him. Plus, his complexion was slightly green, and I was pretty sure he wouldn’t make it hanging around until Charlie drove in from Queens.
“You look too nice to work tonight,” Ava said, pointing to my feet. “And those are not waitressing shoes. I got this. There aren’t many tables left, so you two hang out, and I’ll come join you in between serving.”
Although Davis and I had ended things in a good way, we really hadn’t hung out just the two of us since whatever we had ended and he’d moved out. Since I was dressed up, and awkwardness set in as soon as Ava left, it felt sort of like a first date.