by Carter Ashby
He cocked his head and caught her gaze. "Did you want some of this?"
"What?"
"My tortellini. Did you want some? You're kind of gazing at it like it's a professor and you're a student who can't have him."
She laughed. "Don't flatter yourself. I never wanted you like I want that tortellini."
"Take it then. We'll switch."
She grinned as they pushed their plates at each other. She bit into the tortellini, generously soaked in Alfredo sauce, and moaned, her eyes rolling shut. "Mmm, so good."
"Do you see this relationship going anywhere?"
"I don't think so. This tortellini is kind of a commitment-phobe. I'm just going to eat it while it lasts and then thrive on the memory."
His chin was propped on his fist as he watched her. She opened her eyes. "Did you want this back?" she asked, because he hadn't eaten any of the chicken yet.
"No, I'm good."
She ate unapologetically. The extra physical activity, lately, had heightened her appetite. She might've been embarrassed by it, but she was too hungry to care.
She caught him staring. Watching. "What?" she asked with a laugh.
"You're incredibly beautiful, is all."
"So are you, Greyson." She stuffed another bite in her mouth.
Grey chuckled and leaned back in his chair, shoving a hand through his long hair.
Addy finally took a moment to look at him. She gulped her food down and chased it with some wine. Then she stood, walked around the table, and perched on his lap. He rested his head on her chest, and she stroked his hair with her fingertips. "What's wrong?"
He wrapped his arms around her waist. "This isn't going how I thought it would."
Her heart sank. Had she disappointed him? "I'm sorry to hear that."
"Addison, how are we ever going to say goodbye?"
She pushed him back so she could look into his eyes. "You're violating your own rule. We're supposed to be living in the moment. Not thinking about the weekend."
He smiled sadly. "A week won't be long enough, that's all I know."
Her heart swelled with love. "An eternity wouldn't be long enough."
He shrugged. "Well, that's not necessarily true. Generally, two years is the max for this sort of hormonal connection. Maybe even three. But it does eventually end."
Her heart deflated. She slumped, her hands relaxing their grip on his shoulders.
"If only we could go on a two-year vacation," Grey said.
She didn't bother to mask her disgust. "The reason people marry is because by the time the initial reaction wears off, their lives are tied up together, and they're in love."
"I'll agree about their lives being tied together. The love is only an interpretation of the hormonal reaction. They just cling to the memory of it, spending the rest of their time together desperately trying to relive those first moments together."
"Wow," Addy said in a dry voice. "You're such a romantic, Grey."
He suddenly met her eyes. "I'm sorry. You're right, this isn't romantic. Let's forget about it, okay?"
The mood was killed as far as Addy was concerned. She stood and started clearing the table, ignoring him as he began to help.
"Maybe we should sleep in separate rooms," Grey said. "Maybe that'll help us keep our bearings, you know? Not get too lost in each other?"
She'd thought it impossible she could feel any more disappointed, but she'd thought wrong. "Yeah," she said, as her heart broke a little. "That's fine."
"Good. It's settled then." The bastard was so damn cheerful about it. He even kissed her on the cheek as though nothing was wrong.
They tidied up and then retired to the den to play a game of chess. Halfway through the game, Addy realized she was sitting here on her vacation playing chess when she was supposed to be having a passionate love affair.
Grey made a move on the board then smiled up at her. "Your move."
She flicked her queen over. "I surrender. Look, I believe in love, Grey. I believe in it, and I believe it can last forever."
His frown was the same one he wore any time they got in an academic debate. It infuriated her because this wasn't an academic debate. It was a religious debate. It was a real, human, existential debate. "I guess you're entitled to it, Addison, but the fact remains that what we often interpret as love is merely an evolutionary response—"
"No! No, I will not let you claim that you have some sort of factual information that refutes the validity of a phenomenon that has existed since the beginning of time. Love is real, Grey. If you don't wanna believe in it, you don't have to, but don't tell me I'm wrong."
He gaped at her in shock.
She supposed she was being a little more vociferous than usual, but fuck it—this was her heart they were talking about. "You're welcome to live believing you're too smart for love, but I don't want that. And I don't want you telling me that what I feel for you isn't real; that it's merely some biological stimulus resulting from evolution for the purpose of the procreation of mankind—or whatever bullshit you wanna believe."
The color drained from his face. Addy assumed that was largely in part due to the fact that she'd basically just told him she loved him.
She stood and turned to leave, but he was on his feet, grabbing her arm. "Addison, you're right, okay? I mean, I disagree, but you're right that I have no business telling you how you feel. It's just, I need you to understand where I'm coming from."
"I've got it. Crystal clear." She jerked her arm from his grip and went down the hall. She brushed her teeth, changed into a night shirt, and went to her room. Through it all, she didn't encounter Grey. After she got settled into the bed, she turned off the light and wept quietly.
The bed wasn't supposed to be empty. There was supposed to be a young, warm, beautiful woman in it. Grey stood staring at it, knowing she was across the hall behind a closed door, knowing he'd fucked up somehow.
Still, if anyone should understand and appreciate his approach to the topic of love, it should be Addison. He hadn't counted on her being so emotional. He felt terrible.
After a shower, he dried off and climbed under the covers. He read a few chapters of a novel on his Kindle. He closed his eyes and did everything in his power to dismiss the emotions waging war against his good sense.
After an hour, he lost the fight. God, what was he doing? The woman of his dreams was across the hall because of his stupid ideas about managing emotions. He'd belittled her feelings and ruined her evening. He'd ruined his own evening. Addison was meant to be in his arms this week. For every moment of this week.
He whipped the blanket off his legs and stalked across the hall. After his knock received no answer, he opened the door. Shit, she was asleep. The light from the hall illuminated her still form beneath the blanket, and the steady, rise and fall of her chest. He couldn't bear to wake her, so he went back to his room, shut out the lights, and returned to her bed.
Grey climbed under the blanket and cuddled up to her back, draping an arm around her waist and feeling inexplicable contentment. She moved against him. "Mmm," she sighed. "Joel?"
There was a flash of anger until he heard her snickering. He hit her with a pillow. Laughing, she hit him back with her own pillow, over and over until she'd wrestled him to his back, straddling his hips. It was dark in the room, but shafts of moonlight illuminated the angles of her face. He could see she was smiling, her hair falling out of a loose braid. She had on panties and nothing else.
"What are you doing, sneaking into my bed while I'm sleeping?" she asked, leaning on him with her palms pressed to his chest.
"I wanted to be with you, Addison. Don't let me fuck this up, okay? Smack me or something next time I start to say something upsetting."
"It's my fault," she said. "I shouldn't take all of this so seriously. It's just a week, right? It should be fun."
For some reason, this stung a little. But he agreed with her. "Yes. Fun."
"Then," she said, with a kiss to his c
hest, "let's have fun." She trailed the tips of her breasts over his stomach, and from there on out, he stopped thinking altogether.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The next day, after spending the morning making love then gorging on a breakfast of fresh fruit, yogurt, and whole grain muffins, they drove down the mountain to a winery. There was an open house and wine tasting. Addy didn't mind. She'd been to hundreds of wine tastings with her parents.
She knew how to taste, what comments to make. She actually liked wine. She just didn't have quite the enthusiasm to make a hobby out of it. Still, Greyson had obviously done this a few times before, and she wanted to match his level of sophistication. So she went along with it. If nothing else, it was thrilling being by his side in public.
He'd claimed, before coming on this trip, that no one here knew him. However, he knew the owners of the winery and a few of the other guests. Apparently he vacationed here quite frequently. He introduced her as his friend, Addison Hart, while he kept his arm around her shoulders and made soft, back-and-forth strokes with his thumb. She trusted these people must have no connections to their friends back home. His risk was greater than hers, after all, so even if he cared nothing for her consequences, he'd certainly not risk his own career.
The owners had set tables out on the lawn, and an older couple invited them to sit. Addy let Grey lead her to the table then laughed when he pulled her onto his lap, nearly spilling her wine. She sat and sipped with his hand on her hip as he visited with the couple.
The sun warmed them gently so that she didn't realize how hot it was becoming until she realized her dress was sticking to the backs of her legs. They lunched before touring the vineyard. All of it would have been terribly boring for Addy had she not had Grey's hands on her nearly constantly.
On the way back to the cabin that afternoon, they drove through town, the green mountains rising around them. She saw something ahead…a tower of some sort. "What's that?" she asked.
Grey leaned forward and squinted through his glasses. "Water park."
Well, she wouldn't know anything about water parks. They'd looked like fun on television, but she'd never been.
"I've never been to a water park," he muttered.
"Me neither."
He looked at her. "Really?"
"Yes," she laughed. "You've never been, why are you surprised that I've never been?"
He shrugged. "I guess I just thought I was the only kid who never got to go to one. Got invited, once, for a friend's birthday. But my parents wouldn't let me go."
"Same thing happened to me. They didn't want to sit around a bunch of people who weren't from their country club. I've heard all they have to eat at water parks is hot dogs and nachos and stuff, and I'm sure that was one of the reasons my parents wouldn't go."
"Have you ever had a hot dog?"
"Yes. Have you?"
"No."
"Well, you were rich in the city," Addison said. "Being rich in a small town doesn't protect you from everything uncouth and provincial."
He reached over and rubbed the back of her neck. "Did you like the wine?"
"Yes. I'm not overly choosy, though."
"No?"
She shook her head. "We went to wine tastings all the time. I get it, the nuances in flavor and all that. But honestly, my favorite wine ever is this seven dollar bottle of sweet red at our local grocery store."
He laughed.
She blushed, thinking she'd said something dim or childish. But then she heard a hint of bitterness in his laugh. The light that they were at turned green, and he stepped on the gas. "I don't even like wine," he said. "I keep tasting it, trying to figure out why people like the shit."
She laughed, then. "What do you like?"
"I got into Scotch just to have something to drink at social gatherings. It's good…some are better than others. But I think I'm just not much of a drinker."
"My friend Jayce is a bartender. He makes some good mixed drinks. Maybe you'll like a mudslide or something?"
"I can see that at one of my parent's dinner parties. 'Sauvingnon or Chardonnay, Greyson?' 'Can you make me a mudslide?'"
He did an impression of his mother's voice that was hilarious. Then he said, "We should go to the water park."
They were passing the road that led to its entrance, now. She watched it go by. "Isn't it just for kids?"
"I don't know. I guess the parents have to go, too. So no one would know we weren't there with kids. We're wanting fun, right? Was that wine tasting fun for you?"
"I enjoyed being with you."
"Yes, but was it fun?"
She laughed and sighed. "No."
"So let's try something different. We'll be like explorers in a strange, new land."
She chewed her lip while she thought about it. "I didn't bring a bathing suit."
"Neither did I. But we could go buy some."
He was waiting for her answer. She turned to him, and he glanced at her, his eyebrows raised. "Okay," she said. "Let's do it."
He grinned and turned down a side street, making his way back through town. They stopped at a clothing store and found the bathing suits. She found some tasteful one-pieces and tankinis. She could get a wrap to cover her legs.
Grey whistled at her. She turned to see him holding up a hanger with a string bikini, black and pink, hardly anything to it. "I'm not wearing that," she said.
"Why not?" he asked, as though he was truly baffled by the question.
"Insecurity," she answered. "Massive insecurity."
"Trust me," he said. "I've seen the body. You have nothing to be insecure about."
"You're blinded to my flaws by lust."
He made his way through the racks of bathing suits, handed her the bikini, stuck out his bottom lip and said, "Please?"
She shoved it back at him. "There will be children there. Moms don't wear bikinis."
"Really? None of them?"
She shook her head. "I've never seen a mom in a bikini."
He looked around. "Let's survey the demographic, shall we?"
He grabbed her wrist and pulled her to the children's section where a mom was picking out bathing suits for her two kids. "Pardon me, ma'am," Greyson said, in his most scholarly voice. "My friend and I are at odds on something and were hoping maybe you could help?"
She smiled warily. "Sure."
"We want to know if this is an appropriate bathing suit for a mom to wear." He held up the bikini.
The woman laughed. "Would you seriously want to see this body in that bathing suit?" She gestured to herself.
"Yes," Greyson said, looking her up and down. "I would absolutely love to see you in this bathing suit."
The woman laughed, blushed, and said, "I think you'd regret it. But yes, I have several mom friends who wear bikinis to the pool."
Greyson gave Addy a smug, arch of his brow, and led her back to the bathing suits. "There you have it," he said.
"I'm not sure that was an adequate sample of the population, Dr. McDaniel. Plus, I'm fairly certain you stacked the question."
"But you'll wear it? This one? This exact bikini?"
"Sure. What the hell." It would be fun. Another rebellious moment. She couldn't make her reputation any worse, after all. She could hear the gossip now: Did you hear that Addison Hart ran off with her professor? And she wore a bikini. Gasp! "What will you wear, Professor?"
He grabbed a pair of board shorts. She would have argued that he should wear a Speedo just to make things even, but she happened to think he was going to look incredibly sexy in those shorts.
They bought sunscreen and flip-flops, then drove to the water park. There appeared to be an interior that might have locker rooms, so they went in and found that they could rent a locker and change right there. They paid at the counter for a day pass and were given paper wristbands. They separated to go change in the locker rooms. When she came out, he was stowing his clothes in the locker, his muscles rippling as he reached up. He still had his glasses on.
He turned, smiling big. "Wow." He moved toward her and put his hands on her shoulders. He slid them down toward her breasts but halted as a passel of kids ran by. He laughed. "I wonder if they make adult water parks. Very, very adult water parks."
She shoved past him to store her clothes in the locker. They turned, hand-in-hand, to see what they'd missed out on as kids. It was all white and blue surfaces, blindingly brilliant, with the smell of sunscreen permeating the air. There were several large slides, twisting around into a pool; a wave pool; a concrete river of some sort; and several stations for smaller kids with water sprays and slides. There were also cabanas where adults lounged, getting misted from the sprayers built into the ground.
"Lots of bikinis," Grey said. "See?"
She jabbed him with her elbow and looked up at him. "Are we gonna go down that water slide?"
He frowned up at it. "I think we have to. I think that's why we came here."
She nodded. "Yes. We must conquer it. For the sake of those two, little rich kids who never got to."
He took a fortifying breath. "Let's do this."
She grabbed his elbow. "I think you should take off your glasses."
He took her by the shoulders, holding her at arm's length. "I can see about this far in front of me if I take off my glasses."
"They could get broken. Or lost."
He thought for a moment before going back to the locker. She stood back from him, to test his vision. He turned around, squinted right at her, and came toward her. Then he looked around, squinting. He put his hand on top of her head. "Lead the way."
"You got beat up a lot in junior high, didn't you?"
"I had contacts. And charm. I was okay."
"Why don't you wear contacts, now?"
"I hate them. Who do I gotta impress? No one. You've already seen me with my glasses on. It didn't stop you from jumping into bed with me the first chance you got."
She shoved him and ran ahead of him, hopefully out of his line of sight. Let him fumble around for her for a while.
A lifeguard whistled, making her jump. "No running," the incredibly gorgeous lifeguard said.
"Sorry," she said with a bashful smile.