Coming Together: At Last, Volume One

by Alessia Brio, L. A. Banks, Lisabet Sarai

  Kit rolled bright green eyes rimmed with worn black eyeliner. She'd fallen asleep in it again and her restless rolling had smudged it almost permanently into her skin. “Since I just ate, can we not talk about your cock? I don't want to go to my next class smelling like puke."

  He stuck his tongue out and not so subtly changed the subject. “So why don't you go talk to her?"

  Though Jamie made this suggestion everyday, you'd think Kit would have been able to handle it slightly differently. Instead, her cheeks, the same pale amber as the ring on her thumb, flushed a fiery red like always and without thinking, Kit glanced over where Andrea had already eaten half her apple, her eyes still glued to her book. She'd crossed her long pale brown legs and one slim foot, sensibly clad in a flat slipper that matched her sweater, bounced lazily to some inner rhythm.

  Kit's heart followed its beat and she tore her gaze away to glare at Jamie. “Because she won't be interested,” Kit said for the thousandth time. “She's a teacher—"

  "An openly gay one,” Jamie interrupted and Kit just kept talking right over him.

  "I'm her student and—"

  "Oh honestly, like a teacher's never dated a student before!"

  "And I just don't have the time to date,” Kit finished and picked up her nearly empty Pepsi bottle, swigging the last caffeinated drops. “So there."

  Jamie leaned back against his black messenger bag, a lanky young man with pretty curls and puppy dog brown eyes. Kit had seen him melt a boy at a thousand paces with those eyes and he turned them on her now. If she looked close enough, she could see herself and the other reason she would never ask Andrea out.

  She was too skinny with too big breasts, she walked like and acted like a guy, mostly because they were the only gender, ironically, that she really liked to be around. She dressed for comfort, not to impress which meant a lot of versatile black, slim jeans and scuffed shoes. What would a soft-looking, sweet woman like Andrea want to do with a reject punk like her?

  To distract herself from her depressing thoughts, Kit lifted a hand to her messy Mohawk and frowned at its soft feeling.

  Damn, she'd need more gel soon. Jamie cleared his throat impatiently and Kit reluctantly blinked at him, meeting those impatient, doe-brown eyes. She sighed. “I'm not asking her out, Jamie. I have classes and I'm still hunting for a new place to stay.” For the last year and half, she'd been living with her ex-girlfriend, Dina but Kit needed to get away from her.

  And fast. Her hand unconsciously drifted over her hip, brushing the hidden bruise there, thanks to a well-aimed high heel.

  Jamie's sigh was louder and more flamboyant than hers would ever be. “Fine, lose out on the perfect opportunity to get over Dina the bitch and wallow in self-pity for your bad choice in fuck buddies.” Jamie had no idea about the fighting if only because as femme as he acted, Jamie would have no qualms about protecting Kit. Even if it meant putting his hands on a woman for something other than a hug.

  Kit couldn't let that happen. She could just see Dina screaming harassment and then herself, sitting in court while Jamie snapped his fingers and told the judge that Dina was a little bitch that needed to get slapped a hundred more times than she had been.

  Funny. But a great way to end up in jail. She forced a shrug, shifting her thin shoulders beneath her bulky, well-worn windbreaker. “I'd rather just focus on passing my classes, getting my damn A.A. and maybe finding a better job than part-time drive-thru chick so I can actually pay for my classes instead of my parents.... and then the new apartment. In that order. Notice anything missing?"

  "Yeah,” Jamie glanced at his watch and angled up until he towered over Kit's huddled form, blocking the pale sun with those curly locks. “A life."

  She stuck her tongue out at him, glancing sideways as she did it, just in time to see Andrea gathering her lunch together.

  Kit bit back a disappointed sigh. She'd been looking forward to watching Andrea eat if just because the woman's prim nature came out even while she did that. And the peek-a-boo flash of tongue and teeth was just a side benefit. At least that's what she told herself. Kit muffled a self-disgusted grunt and waved Jamie off to his next class, picking up the trash from her pizza and soda and carrying it over a nearby trash can.

  Andrea was doing the same a bit further away and to Kit's shock, she found herself locking gazes with the woman as Andrea looked up in her direction. The smile that broke across her face raised Kit's temperature a couple thousand degrees and she almost strangled on her heartbeat.

  "Hello, Miss Morgan,” Andrea called, giving a demure wave and a warm smile that instantly welded itself to Kit's mind.

  Kit had to swallow twice before answering and her voice still came out rougher than usual, her drawl thicker. “Good afternoon, Miz Francis. I'll be in class in just a bit."

  "Excellent, I'll see you there.” Andrea smiled again and walked off, once again reading from her paperback, leaving Kit to tremble with a combination of nerves and raw lust.

  It was only through sheer willpower that she got to class on time.

  * * * *

  She loved days like this. When fall was just settling and the air was brisk, giving a reason to wear those sweaters JcPenney's, Macy's and Sears sold months in advance. Andrea wore one now, her favorite out of all of her recent mini splurges. She hugged the warm red concoction around her as she walked to her car.

  Her classes were over for the day and she was looking forward to her daily after school cup of coffee from the little student run café that ran adjacent to the college. The music was a little off with the occasionally blending of canned music and amateur live bands but coffee was good and hot while the atmosphere was fun and youthful, usually infusing Andrea with a warm benevolence toward mankind in itself and young adults, in particular.

  And occasionally, on the rare days she actually needed it, it made her feel a little hip and when you were single in your forties, you took all the hip you could get. Juggling her grade book, a folder of recently turned in assignments, her tote and her heavy duty calendar/planner notebook, Andrea headed quickly to her little light gray Honda.

  She matched smiles with other teachers as she set her stuff on the roof of the car and moved her bag over so she could rummage through it for her keys. When she'd pulled them out and gotten her stuff and herself inside, she started the engine, giving a little prayer that the car would cooperate.

  Andrea may have liked the crispness but her car? Not so much. But after a few false starts, the engine turned over and Andrea was off, Andrea Bocelli singing in beautiful Italian and her smile full of anticipation. Traffic was on the heavy side but it was expected so near a college campus. She still managed a not too bad parking spot against the curb and she gave a little unnerved smile when young drivers maneuvered all around her to grab a spot.

  Didn't matter to her if most of them were edging into their twenties. Some of them just shouldn't be on the road with the rest of civilization. That slightly worried thought stayed with her as she walked back to the little brick café with its wide, flat roof that was perfect for taking in the view while sipping the java and long glass windows that gave flashes of the warm, crowded atmosphere inside.

  Andrea wore a small pleased smile as she stepped in, soaking in the amber walls and the cluster of tables and booths that lined the walls and made walking through the small store just a bit harder. There was no band today and some hoarse young man screamed from the tiny speakers speckled along the walls and was still nearly drowned out by the chattering crowd.

  She received numerous hails as she moved through the crowd and her gracious smile glowed at the cashier when she made it to the front and ordered her old-fashioned, just plain coffee and insisted on paying though the young lady was one of her students and wanted to give it to her for free for the awesome grade she'd received on a paper.

  Andrea was humming as she moved to the toppings bar right next to the register and doctored her coffee with a few sugars and creams. She was taking her
first blissful sip and turning to hunt for a seat when she nearly collided with Kit Morgan.

  "Oh!” she gasped as the cup tottered in her hand and she tottered with it. Kit echoed her and grabbed her arms for stability. A corner of Andrea's mind registered the lean strength she could feel in Kit's hands, even through her sweater. “Miss Morgan, I'm so sorry,” she said when she'd steadied.

  Kit's hands were still on her and the young woman smiled, her big green eyes, heavily lined with smudged eyeliner, glittering with embarrassment and shyness in her pixie face. Her dark hair stood straight up in ... ah, what was it called? A Mohawk. That was it.

  "No, its okay, Miz Francis,” Kit answered in her strong drawl which always made Andrea think of heavy syrup being drizzled over her. “I totally wasn't lookin’ where I was goin'."

  She shivered and tucked away that thought. It was a pretty ... unconventional reaction to have to one's student. She cleared her throat, gently shifted in Kit's grip and with a blush; Kit let her go and stepped back anxiously, almost knocking into someone else.

  Andrea sipped her coffee to hide an amused smile. “Well, I wasn't either but I think we survived alright, don't you?” Kit's bemused nod made Andrea smile a little wider. Oh how something so small and embarrassing could prey on a young mind.

  Then Kit cleared her throat and spoke so quietly that Andrea found herself leaning forward to hear her over the noise. “Think we could chat some, Miz Francis?"

  Andrea blinked at the oddly nervous voice from one of her most thoughtful students. “Of course, Miss Morgan."

  Kit flashed a warm grateful smile that blinded Andrea and made her blink dazedly. Oh my, now this wouldn't do. She wasn't supposed to be aware of her students as individuals. Especially attractive young women.

  Andrea tamped it down and followed Kit, hoping and praying that it was just an aberration. She was too much the teacher to go for one of her students.

  Right?

  Right.

  * * * *

  What am I doing? What am I doing? Kit's mind shouted the question while she pushed and jostled her way to a corner booth, Andrea Francis walking silently behind her. She could feel the older woman's warmth like a line of heat up her back and it was hard work to hide the shudder of reaction.

  Her hands still tingled from grabbing onto her and she was still too mortified over the circumstances they'd gotten there in the first place to really enjoy it. She'd almost tripped Andrea of all things! Tripped! Because she'd been in shock at seeing her in the first place and because Jamie's smirking voice was still in her head.

  He'd double-dared her to talk to Andrea when they'd first seen her enter the coffee shop, declaring that seeing her after school made her fair game. In a twisted way it was true and just having even a tiny, logical reason gave Kit the sudden hope that maybe it'd be okay if she asked Andrea out.

  If she could keep her drawl from getting any thicker and she kept herself from reaching to touch Andrea again, she was sure she'd be fine. Kit finally made it to a booth and automatically stepped to the side so Andrea could slip in first. Tossing her a half-amused, half-flattered look, Andrea dropped down and Kit slid on the other side, resisting the urge to slide in right next to her.

  Even across from her, she caught the whiff of Andrea, something candy sweet and womanly. Kit took a deep breath, half to take her in, half for courage. She couldn't believe she was doing this and from the corner of her eye, she could see Jamie across the room, smirking at her and trying to hide it behind his mug.

  Andrea's gentle throat clearing brought Kit back to the situation at hand and she took another breath while Andrea sipped her coffee and smiled patiently.

  "Will you go out with me?” Kit blurted, her mind blurring from the brilliance of that sweet patient smile. Up close, Andrea's quiet beauty was emphasized. Her dark brown eyes were warm, her mouth a sweet pale red curve that Kit wanted to nibble on for days on end.

  Even now when it dropped open in shock and Andrea's eyes widened into twin saucers.

  "Ah, p ... pardon?"

  "Will you, um, go out with me?” Kit found that saying it a second time did not make it easier. In fact, it was about a thousand times harder. Andrea's eyes weren't warm anymore, they were completely baffled. Self doubt began to pick at her in Dina's voice ... could you dress any less cutely? What's up with your hair? Why are you such a loser, Kit?

  What was she doing? Kit cleared her throat when Andrea only stared at her, one slim, long-fingered hand clenching her cup so tightly, her knuckles stood out like pale beacons against the dark skin. An extreme reaction and one that bothered Kit so much, she found herself babbling.

  A lot.

  "I didn't mean to spring on ya like this, Miz Francis but you see, I really like you and I, um, I wanted to take you somewhere nice, like a movie or somethin’ and get to know you better...” Kit finally ran out of breath and she was left staring into Andrea's startled face. “Please,” she added quietly. “I'd really like to see you somewhere other than a classroom."

  At that, Andrea finally moved. Her small pink tongue flashed out to moisten her lips and Kit controlled a groan by sheer willpower alone. “Oh Miss Morgan—Kit—I'm flattered,” she began and Kit could feel the ‘but’ deep in her bones. She wanted to cringe and excuse herself, sock Jamie in the arm for convincing her she'd had a chance and drown in coffee.

  "But I am your teacher and so much older than you,” Andrea continued. “You're a very beautiful girl but I can't date a student, do you see? It's unethical.” There was just the tiniest tug of wistfulness in her voice; enough to make Kit suddenly blink.

  So it wasn't her looks? Hell, Andrea had called her beautiful. But how could Kit battle the teacher/student thing? Outside of dropping Andrea's class, which she simply would not do as she would not give up seeing Andrea as often as she did, there was no way she could beat down that logic.

  Kit swallowed. “Oh, I guess ... I guess that makes sense,” she said and bit her lip when Andrea smiled a little sadly. “Please, oh please don't feel bad,” Kit added hastily. “I'm not upset, well I mean I am but I don't want you to feel bad about it. I had to ask and you answered."

  Andrea hesitated then reached out to pat Kit's hand, curled into an unconscious fist on the tabletop, displaying her real feelings. Damn it hurt being rejected. “I'm sorry, Kit,” Andrea said, turning her name into something almost pretty. “I really am. If it were otherwise..."

  "I know.” She didn't. “I understand really.” Unfortunately. “Thanks for bein’ so nice about it, Miz Francis."

  Andrea's smile was sweet. “Thank you for asking. You made this old woman's day,” she chuckled lightly and Kit's answering smile was only half-forced.

  "You're not old, Miz Francis,” Kit couldn't resist saying. “You're a very lovely youthful woman."

  Andrea's flush was both charming and warning. “Miss Morgan..."

  Kit suddenly shook her head, angry at herself for pushing. “I'm sorry,” she said hurriedly, lurching out of the booth. “I ... I should go. I'll see you in class, Miz Francis."

  She began to walk in Jamie's direction but she could already see the pity, the shared disappointment and instead, she ducked out of the café, getting a face full of crisp fall air when she made it outside.

  Only then did she finally growl out the pain. “You're such a fucking idiot, Kit,” she mumbled and began walking to her car. “A complete and total douche. Of course she's your teacher!"

  When would she stop making such stupid mistakes?

  * * * *

  The next day found Andrea in the coffee shop, hidden in a nice booth, her coffee beside her and her favorite mystery paperback in her hands. She should have been in heaven. Instead, Andrea stared at the words and saw Kit Morgan's tanned pixie face, her crazy Mohawk and those big green eyes.

  She was going crazy over a student. Well, not crazy per se but she'd been thinking about Kit far more than she wanted to be. After Kit had rushed from the coffee shop in a flurry of humilia
tion, followed immediately by a curly-haired, frowning young man, she'd been occupying Andrea's thoughts.

  She wasn't blind; she'd always thought Kit a beautiful girl. In class when they were jotting down notes, her gaze more often than not would travel over to quiet Kit, who could be found either daydreaming or with her nose buried in a book, whatever ridiculous style her hair was in that day peeking over.

  But Andrea worked on a strict moral code: you didn't date students. She'd seen too many professors get involved and had watched both sides of the coin suffer. Students suffering in class and teachers losing their jobs or worse taking it out on the student him or herself. She would never want to mix her professional life with her personal. Though she'd been plenty tempted, mind you. She didn't hide her sexuality though her prim, sedate nature may indicate otherwise and to her somewhat fortunate and uncomfortable surprise, there were many a young nubile girl who wanted to experiment.

  And while Andrea did truly enjoy being flirted with by those girls, not only would she not risk her career but she wanted relationship, not a fling by the first coed who set her sights on Andrea. She wasn't some twenty-something year old. She was glancing through her forties and by that time, a woman wanted more than just a sweet scented body.

  She wanted to build a nest. Or something close to it. She sighed and finally turned her book over; leaving the spine face up so she wouldn't lose her page though she hadn't moved from it since she'd opened it some fifteen minutes ago. In an attempt to distract herself, Andrea glanced around, noting the crowd was a little less boisterous today. Probably the cold settling in and slowing the blood even here, inside the warm café.

  California cold wasn't what you called very cold but to those who lived there, it could be damn near chilling. She was studying a straight couple cuddled into each other in a far booth, sharing a large latte and looking very warm indeed when the little bell above the door jangled, just barely cutting through the music. With automatic human interest in newcomers, Andrea glanced over only to muffle a groan.

  Of course it was Kit. Why wouldn't the one woman she couldn't get out of her mind show up, looking chilly but beautiful in her battered gray windbreaker and skinny jeans? Her hair was in yet another new style, pulled into tight inky black corkscrews that bounced all over her head. She was by herself and looked so damn alone that Andrea wanted to gather her up and take her home.