I open the refrigerator and search the racks for the bottle. I see it. I get it. I close the door, spin around, and Derek is right there. We’re nearly nose to nose.
“I came in here for one thing,” he says breathlessly.
“In here?” I sigh, entranced by the sweet smell of his cologne mixed with his moist breath.
I feel his strong arm around my back, then the fronts of our bodies merge.
“Yes,” he says.
We don’t lose eye contact as his lips then his tongue meet mine. A whimper escapes me as we kiss. My breasts and lower half rise against his hard body. A kiss that started slow turns feverishly fast. I lose my head, and the next thing I know, I’ve let go of the bottle.
“Oh shit!” I force my mouth away, expecting to hear a splat.
But Derek’s holding the bottle, breathing heavily. “Here you go.”
I look from him to the bottle to the floor then back to him. How did he do that? “Thanks.”
He looks just as dazed as me. “I’ll see you on Wednesday? Maybe before then?”
“Why?” I shut my eyes tight. Why did I say that? “I mean, okay.”
He plants a softer kiss on my lips then turns and walks out of the kitchen.
I look at the empty space he left behind as I faintly hear him say, “Sorry, emergency. I have to leave.”
Alice whines about it, but he insists that he has to go.
I put my hand to my lips and pinch them. Did that just happen, or was I dreaming?
13
I spend all day Saturday in a daze, trying to make sense of that kiss. Is Derek willing to throw caution to the wind? I’m not an undergrad, so even if we do have an affair, it wouldn’t have to be a forbidden one. Professor Mackel married Laurie Chivers last year. Laurie was a year ahead of Elena and me in the graduate program. Up until the big announcement, no one even knew they were a couple. So I wonder if anyone would guess that Derek and I are also “affiliated.” However, I do manage to concentrate long enough to study and process the evidence from my Criminal Defense Clinic.
Now it’s Sunday morning, and my lungs are on fire. By the way she’s breathing, so are Gina’s. We met at the Lancaster Park track at eight o’clock this morning. We haven’t gone for a jog since Elena’s death. My arms are heavy, my legs want to quit, and I’m two seconds away from coughing up a lung.
“I’m so fucking out of shape,” Gina says, panting heavily.
“Not me.” I wince.
Gina shoves me playfully in the arm. “Three more steps and I’ll have to find someone who’s in better shape to give you CPR.”
I find enough strength to chuckle.
“Anyway…” Gina gasps. “You said you had something juicy to tell me.”
I raise a finger. “First… decrease pace.” I cough.
“Power walk?” Gina winces.
I nod.
We walk briskly. We’re not running, but we sure aren’t relaxing either. My hamstrings are tight, and my calves are spasming.
“What the hell happened to us?” Gina says. “This was easier”—she looks off, counting inaudibly—“two months ago.” She waves a hand aimlessly. “Anyway—spill it.”
It takes me a moment to realize what she’s talking about. “Oh yes. Well… not only is Derek going to be a new member of my family, but he also planted a kiss on me in my father’s kitchen.”
Gina nearly chokes. “What?”
I notice we picked up the pace. Good gossip will do that. It also makes my joints hurt less and soothes the fire in my throat. I tell her that Dick’s new fiancée happens to be Derek’s sister.
“Shut the front door! Did Professor Valentine know before he started tutoring you?”
“No. He was more surprised than I was. He didn’t even know they were dating.” I frown at Gina, who’s alarmingly pale. “Are you okay?”
Gina coughs then wheezes. “I’m fine. Just explain the kiss.”
I hesitate. “Okay… I go into the kitchen to get champagne, and Derek comes in after me. He ends up kissing me.”
“Break time,” Gina announces and stops. She bends over and grabs her knees, huffing and puffing.
I stand in front of her, studying her color. “I think you’re turning blue. What’s going on?”
She waves dismissively. “Nothing… so was it a kiss-kiss? Full-on tongue, hands, and hard-on?”
“Um, yes. Are you sure you’re okay?” Suddenly I’m aware of everything and everyone around us. Gina looks as though any second, she’s going to faint. I know CPR, but I may need help calling 9-1-1. I left my cell phone in my car.
Suddenly, Gina grabs her stomach and throws up all over the track. I rush to her side to rub her back. I would hold her hair, but it’s already pulled back into a messy ponytail. She practically heaves up the kitchen sink. When she’s done, she stands in a slumped posture and swipes her mouth with the back of her hand.
She clears her throat. “Well, that was gross.”
I can tell she’s trying to make light of what just happened, but I’m looking at the bits of undigested food she left on the track. A few passersby ask if she’s okay, and Gina assures them she’s fine. One woman says she’ll let park services know to come out and clean the track. We thank her, and after she’s gone, I narrow one eye at Gina.
“What?” she says, responding to the look I’m giving her.
“I don’t know. You tell me.”
She bends her back, stretching. “Maybe I threw up because I haven’t worked out in a while.”
I frown. “Yeah, but I haven’t either. I mean, did you have some bad fish or Chinese food or something last night?”
“No…” she says, leadingly.
I study her expression. She’s saying something to me with her eyes, and I think I comprehend. “Morning sickness?” My tone is highly inquisitive.
She replies by widening her eyes, and now I know the answer.
“It can’t be…” I say. “You just had sex with Randy last week. Have you been with someone else?”
She sniffs as if that’s the most ridiculous thing she’s ever heard, but I’ve known Gina long enough to know she’s trying to snow me.
I ask slowly, “Have you been with someone else?”
She forces a nervous laugh.
“So you have been with someone else? But who?”
She parts her lips, but nothing comes out.
I grunt curiously. “You’re always candid about who you do, unless… you don’t want me to know who you’re doing.”
She’s breathing heavily as she stares into my eyes. “I’ve only been with one person in the last two and a half months.”
After a moment of prolonged thought, I flinch. “Randy?”
Gina sighs. “Yes. Randy.”
“So you slept with him more than once?”
“Just twice, but I didn’t count the first time.”
I scoff. “Well, it looks as if the first time may have counted.”
We look at each other like the lights just went out.
Gina rips her gaze off mine and rubs her belly. “You know what? I feel better already. We both were struggling because we hadn’t run in a while.” I part my lips to speak, but she raises a finger to stop me. “Plus, I had a bran muffin last night, and that goes out one end or the other.”
I study her tentative smile. Gina has always been easy for me to figure out. She wants me to drop this discussion. If Randy did knock her up, then she’s going to have to deal with it sooner or later. Perhaps her condition is the result of an ultra-rich bran muffin. Regardless, I decide to be a good friend and stop browbeating her.
“You’re probably right,” I say.
“I am,” she says with a convincing smile.
Since we already have four laps under our belt, we decide to end our exercise and go get breakfast. Over my Denver omelet and her garden omelet, she tells me how in the world she ended up having sex with Randy, not once but twice. The first time they were both drunk at a staff
party. One insult led to another, and before the sun rose, she was at his house, in his bed, and engaging in the act.
The second time they had sex, which was the one she’d copped to, they were closing the café. He was sweeping the kitchen. She was wiping down the counter. They accidentally bumped into each other. He cupped her tit, and all of sudden, they ended up on the sofa in the break room. I learn more about Randy than I want to know—like he’s a slow thruster and an indulgent lover.
“Why does he have to be a jerk?” Gina asks.
“But he’s not a jerk.”
She rolls her eyes. “Don’t defend him, Nom.”
“I’m not. I’ve always noticed that you both bring out the Mr. Hyde in each other.” I snort. “Now I know it’s been stored-up sexual tension.”
She sighs. “Can we please change the subject? All this talk about Randy is making me sick to my stomach again.”
I snicker. “Your wish is my command.”
“Good…” She rubs her hands together while smiling like the Joker. “Tell me more about that kiss between you and the sexy professor.”
I leave nothing out. I recount how soft his lips were and how tasty his mouth was. I also confirm that his bulge is the real thing and not just an inflated scrotum.
“It was hard,” I assure her. “Hard as steel.”
“Fuck…” she says as if she’s envious that she’s not in my shoes. "You lucky duckling.”
14
As I leave my Monday Criminal Defense Clinic, I feel my cell phone buzz against my thigh while it’s in my bag. I stop walking across the quad, on my way to the Annual Law Review Symposium at Clarksdale Hall. I dig it out. My eyes light up. People are bustling all around me, but suddenly I feel as if I’m on a planet alone with my cell phone, which has this one life-changing message from Derek.
It says, “Hope you had a good weekend. Ready to start work? How does Thursday at my law office sound?”
He hopes I had a good weekend? Is that what he says after he left me weak in the knees and throbbing for more? On Saturday night, I fantasized about going on a date with him to the movies. Afterward he would drop me off at home, and I would invite him in for coffee or wine. But we would forgo the beverages for a hot and heavy make-out session, punctuated by steamy, passionate sex. Of course none of that happened. I was left wondering what he did all weekend, and now he’s hoping mine was good.
“My weekend was fine…” I write then stop to think about this week’s schedule. I have to attend another symposium, but I can’t remember what day it’s on. I close my eyes and think hard. That’s right! It’s next week. “Thursday is fine. How about two o’clock?”
I tap Send and wait for his reply. The passing seconds feel like an eternity, but he replies quickly.
“Great. I’ll see you soon,” he writes.
The butterflies in my stomach stop fluttering. I mean, is that all he has to say? No mention of the kiss? I’m about to slip the phone back into my bag when it buzzes again.
It’s another message from Derek. “Btw. Thanks for the great kiss.”
The butterflies are flapping again as I smile from ear to ear.
“You’re welcome,” I tap out on the screen. I want to put an exclamation mark at the end, but that would make me sound as eager as I truly am. I tap a period after welcome then tap Send.
Tuesday goes by without a hitch. It could be because I’m still on cloud nine. By Wednesday morning, my nerves have returned with a vengeance. Class with Derek. I stop at the door to his classroom. This will be the first time we’ve seen each other since that kiss.
“Excuse me,” someone says from behind.
“Sorry.” I open the door and enter.
Derek is at the front of the room, talking to a student. We look at each other, and the butterflies flutter from my stomach to my heart. I smile discreetly as I walk to my normal seat. I glance toward the front of the room. Derek is still watching me. I check him twice before I sit, and each time he’s looking at me. I sit down, a guy walks in front of me, and Derek and I lose eye contact. When I can see him again, he’s checking his watch. I’m able to read his lips and make out that he’s telling a student he’s about to start class.
I get ahold of myself. I can’t gawk at him or expect him to acknowledge me in some romantic way, at least not during class. I take my notebook, pen, and laptop out of my bag and get myself set up. The lecture starts, and Derek doesn’t look at me again until we’re dismissed.
After collecting my things, I make a point to walk past his desk on my way out. Derek sees me before I get there, and I’m trapped in his stare.
He smiles. “Looking forward to seeing you tomorrow.”
I’m about to respond when Barbara steps right in front of me. I try to look around her, but she’s making sure there’s no way she’s going to lose his attention this time. Since I have a project group in fifteen minutes again and I’ll see Derek tomorrow, I give up and walk out of the room.
The day has passed into night. I studied, worked on some papers, and now I’m lying in bed. I’m so exhausted that it doesn’t take me long to fall asleep.
And now I’m behind Elena, who’s standing in front of the mirror in her bedroom and putting on earrings. She’s wearing the same skinny jeans and white camisole blouse she wore on the night of the accident. I look into the mirror. I can see my reflection but not hers.
“You know it’s your fault,” she says.
I hug myself as a wave of sadness washes over me. I drop my face. “I know.”
“I’ll go to the party. Have too much to drink. You’ll leave, and I’ll die.” She puts on her other earring. “You should’ve never left, Naomi.”
Oh, the pain. Oh, the guilt. I feel them so strongly, I can barely breathe. I reach out to touch her, hoping that if we make contact I can save her, but an invisible force stops my hand.
“If I had known….” I drop my heavy head once again. My tears are rolling like a dark river.
“But you should’ve known. That’s why you were the designated driver. But you were jealous.”
“I know,” I whimper.
“And now you’re trying to move on?”
I lift my face, but my shoulders are still bent in shame. I want to say one word, but I have to force it out. I push. I grab my head and force my tongue to say, “No!”
Elena whips around, and I can finally see her face. I gasp and try to pull away from her, but that invisible force won’t let me. Her face is caved in on one side. Her flesh is torn and skull exposed.
I hear ringing, and I wake up. I flip onto my side and blink the crud out of my eyes. My phone is ringing on my nightstand.
I grab it and tap Answer. “Hello?”
“Naomi?”
I blink at my phone just to make sure the caller is actually who I think it is. “Derek?” I sound too tired, so I clear my throat and give it another try. “Derek, hi?”
“Are you in bed?”
I remove my phone from my ear to look at the time. It’s 11:04 p.m. “Um no,” I lie.
“Can I see you?” He sounds desperate.
“Are you okay?”
“I just need to see you.”
I sit up. “Okay.”
He gives me the address, and I agree to meet him in about twenty minutes. I’m a ball of mixed emotions by the time I head out. I’m happy to be on my way to see him, but I’m still rattled by my dream. Or was it a nightmare?
15
I arrive at Nolan’s Point. Derek is already sitting on the guardrail looking out over the lake, so I park my car next to his and walk to him. The dark water carries the moon’s reflection atop its ripples.
“Hey,” I say as I sit beside him.
He looks at me with a smile but it quickly fades. “You look tired.”
“I had a bad dream.” I nervously swirl my foot in the damp dirt. “A visit from Elena.”
I look in Derek’s eyes. He’s already studying me.
“How are you?” he
asks.
I shrug. “Still a little shaken up.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
I look down again. “She said it was my fault.”
“What’s your fault?”
“That she’s dead.”
“Do you think it’s your fault?”
“Maybe.”
Derek tilts his head to get me to look into his eyes. “Why do you feel that way?”
It works. My gaze meets his. “Because I should have been there for her.”
He heaves a long sigh. “You should have been there for her how?”
His words penetrate me, dislodging the deep secret I’ve carried ever since the morning Patti called me to let me know Elena had gotten into a fatal car accident.
“That night, I left early because…” I say.
Derek watches me intensely, waiting for more. “Because…?”
I look away from him. “I was upset.”
“About what?” he says delicately.
I shake my head. “It was just something stupid—very high school. You heard she didn’t die alone, right? Corey Neal was with her.”
“Yes, I know. He was another student in the law school.”
“Right. Well, I had a crush on him—at least I thought I did. He was really attractive. I thought Elena knew, but… I don’t know.” I turn to face him again, and Derek fidgets. “Maybe she didn’t. But that night, they were into each other. The two of them laughing and talking was a sight I didn’t want to see, so I just left. The next morning, they were both dead.” My lip quivers. “They both drank too much. I’ve always been Elena’s designated driver. If I had stayed, they wouldn’t be dead right now.”
He observes me for a moment. “That’s a lot of guilt you’re carrying.”
My chin quivers. If I speak, then I’ll cry, so instead I nod stiffly.
“It’s not real, Naomi.”
I swallow to get a hold on my emotions. “Then what is?” I say quietly. I feel as if he has the answer. I don’t know why. I just do.
The Sexy Series: The COMPLETE SERIES Box Set Page 56