“So,” he started, settling at the breakfast bar.
“So,” Beau agreed. “How was your evening?” He rinsed two salad bowls and rewrapped what remained of the bread. “The sauce was great. Thanks.”
“Not a problem. It burned, huh?”
Beau shot him a sheepish look. “I was distracted.”
“I can imagine. I don’t want to, but unfortunately, I can.”
Smiling, Beau said, “I promise, nothing you could possibly imagine, nothing in your wildest dreams, nothing you’ve ever experienced—”
“Jesus Christ, stop! I get it. You heard angels sing.”
“Right there at the foot of the bed.”
“I’m thrilled for you.”
Beau laughed. “I can tell.”
“When are you seeing her again?”
“Next Friday. She has to see Little on Wednesday.”
“What? Seven hours with the god of the sheets and she’s still going to sleep with that little wimp? Pun intended.”
Beau absently scratched his arm. “You were right. There’s something going on, something she’s doing with him and me.”
“God only knows what she’s doing with him.” Steve studied his friend. “Does it bother you?”
“Well, yeah. I think it does.” He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms, in the same pose he’d struck when Leah arrived.
“I mean, it’s not like it was me she was with as the second man.” Steve said it as a joke but half wished it was true.
“I know,” Beau said, surprising him.
“So what do you think is going on?”
“Don’t know. It’s as though we’re subjects in an experiment. And it won’t be you,” he added. “I tried to tell her that you’re okay, but she wouldn’t even consider giving you another chance.”
Hearing that bothered Steve more than he cared to admit. When he’d first known her, Leah had been the mythical girl about whom someone could say, “she has a good personality.” The fact was, he would have been happy to vouch for the fact that she was worth spending time with. Sure, he was as shallow as the next guy. He wouldn’t have tried to get her into bed. But there was real substance in her. Substance he’d appreciated then and still did. Taking a woman’s virginity in a drunken fuck was a big deal. But he hated that Leah didn’t think of him with even some small degree of friendship, despite that last night.
“She has good reason,” he said. “I wish I’d never asked her to the party.”
“Maybe she’ll come around.”
“Maybe.” But he didn’t think so. Regret settled in his stomach like a stone.
“Well, I’m hitting the sack,” Beau said. “Thanks for giving us some space tonight.”
“Hey, no big deal.”
“You going to bed?”
He’d come home ready for bed, mentally drained. Now, for some reason, he knew he’d never be able to sleep. “After a while.”
“Okay. See you in the morning.”
“Yeah. Sleep well.”
Beau’s door closed. The evidence was clear. Beau and Leah had hit it off, big time. They had fucked the night away then eaten his sauce with bread, no doubt in bed. Probably feeding each other like lovesick teens. Then they’d planned another tryst, during which he’d probably have to vacate the house again.
The first woman he’d ever thought of as a friend—which was a hell of a lot harder to find than a woman to fuck, and he wished Leah could appreciate that—wanted his best friend. At the same time, she hated his guts.
What was he going to do about that?
Chapter Eight
Leah walked into class Monday morning with a spring in her step even she noticed. Friday night had done more for her well-being than any tonic available at Cardinal Drug. Fucking should be touted by the medical profession as a prescription for whatever ails a body.
“Good morning, class,” she said. Since she’d stopped wearing the sexy, outlandish outfits and settled on business attire, the class attendance had settled, too, to a reasonable number of students with mostly average grades.
“No test today,” she announced and was greeted with kids sitting up straighter and looking brighter. “What’s the smallest number that constitutes a group?”
“Three,” said a boy in the third row.
“Correct. So today we’re going to divide into groups of three and work collaboratively on a sociological problem. You will spend class time today exchanging ideas. Then you will decide who writes the paper, who creates the presentation, and who will deliver to the class. You will receive an individual grade as well as a group grade. This will be due on Friday, but you won’t have class on Wednesday to work together. Only today. Make the most of your time.” She pulled out a sheaf of papers from her briefcase. “We have fifteen people in class.” She pointed to the boy sitting on the end in the first row. You can start the count off, by fives.”
“One,” he said.
“Two,” the next person said, and it went on until the last person said, “Five!”
“Okay, all the ones gather down here.” She gestured to the left side of the room and then pointed to the front center. “Twos down here.”
When all the groups settled, she passed out each group’s problem. “Papers should be two thousand words or more. Everyone in the group is responsible for research and developing the idea for the presentation.” The euphoria over not having their daily test quickly faded when they realized the task before them, but soon each group had heads bent and were hard at work.
“I’m right here if you have any questions.”
She sat at the desk and took out her own work.
It hadn’t been only the sex with Beau on Friday that made her smile. She had sat most of the weekend at the computer, compiling the several references Beau had made regarding Charles and her having sex with two men as well as those Charles had made before their date.
The reactions of the men at the beginning of the sexual timeframe and how they changed as the males became more proprietary was the whole thesis of her book. She hypothesized that each man would jump at the chance to have sex with a woman if there were no strings attached and not care that there was another man—as long as he knew about it. But she also theorized that the men would turn more selfish about her as time went on. Beau had already shown signs.
She further planned to prove that the male response was nothing more than a biological instinct, a remnant of evolution. Primates fought for a harem of females. Ancient man took many women for procreation because of the high mortality rate. Men liked lots of women now because they enjoyed sex, but they still wanted that one they could put claim to. She planned to show that she was the “one” for both Charles and Beau—males who already harbored antithetical feelings for each other.
She rubbed her hands together, hardly able to contain her glee. The two publishers she’d contacted assured her that no other book went beyond theory. No other author had been a participant, right there to hear each word and observe each nuance. That was her ace in the hole. How lucky that she enjoyed her “work.”
She watched the class, taking occasional notes. Before she knew it, the bell rang.
“No homework this week except this project. Wednesday we will discuss Texas. The state has some dynamic population issues that affect those beyond state lines.”
Leah was pleased to see the groups mostly exited together, still talking. She would present her own presentation on grouping virtual strangers and seeing how they worked together. The projects were for them, but the information of how they handled the project would be for her as well. People never failed to amaze her.
“Hello.” Steve stuck his head in the door just as she was loading her briefcase.
What part of leave me alone did he not understand? “What are you doing here?”
“I just stopped by to say hi.” He stepped into the room and then stopped. “Can I help with that load?”
“It would be wonderful if there was an
easier way to carry work around besides lugging all these papers and books,” she said. “But no. I can handle it.”
He didn’t move. “I hope I didn’t cut things short when I came home the other night.”
She slung her bag over her shoulder and picked up the briefcase, which felt now like it weighed a ton. Walking toward him she tried not to look at his face but found she couldn’t avoid it. How could she have stared into those eyes last week and not known immediately who he was? At one time, she’d thought the world spun only because he spoke to her and the stars twinkled in the sky because he took time to laugh with her. That was all before the night of the frat house party and lying in his bed, a place she never should have been.
“You didn’t disturb us. We were finished with what I’d come over to do. I’m sure Beau told you all about it.”
“You’re wrong. Beau told me nothing except—” He pursed his lips and glanced away.
“Except what?”
“Never mind. It’s not for me to say. But you should know that he didn’t kiss and tell.”
“Unlike you, then.”
His brows wrinkled. “What are you talking about?”
She didn’t want to talk to him. And the feeling of neutrality she had vowed to project would never last if she discussed that night. Still, she couldn’t help herself. “I’m talking about the way you shared with your fraternity brothers that I spent the night in your bed.”
Shaking his head he said, “I didn’t tell anyone.”
Liar! She tried to get past him but he blocked her way. “Then how did people find out? Several of the girls in my dorm mentioned that they’d heard I’d lost my cherry at the frat party and how lucky I was to have lost it to you. How would anyone have known I was there with you if you didn’t share the news?”
“Leah, I swear to you, I did not tell a soul.” He stared at her as though waiting for her to agree that yes, he was decent and good and pure of heart. “Look. Don’t you remember? Even Beau didn’t know about you. He didn’t know that we were friends or that you were at the party until last week. And he was a frat brother as well as my best friend. If I was going to tell anyone about what happened, it would have been him, wouldn’t it?”
He looked sincere. And he was right—Beau had been surprised to find she and Steve knew each other. “I don’t believe you.”
“You were my friend, Leah.”
Had she been wrong? God help her, she believed him. Her mouth was dry. She could barely speak. “If not you, then who?”
“I don’t know. Maybe someone who saw you run out the next morning? I’m pretty sure you were carrying your shoes and maybe your blouse wasn’t totally done…?” He heaved a sigh. “I wouldn’t have done anything to hurt you.”
Her shoulders slumped. For years she’d been righteous in her anger against him. Now it came back on her. She should have talked to him when he came to explain. But she’d been hurt. Hurt and dismissed by him that morning in his room. His words rang in her mind. What are you doing here? God, Leah, you’re the last woman in the world I would fuck. “But you did hurt me.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. If I could take the whole night back, God knows I would. Can you ever forgive me?”
The sun had risen and set with Steve Hardin. She’d created fantasies that he could someday love her as she did him. And then he’d driven a stake through her heart. Metaphorically, but it hurt just as much. “I’m not sure,” she said.
“I’ll just keep my fingers crossed,” he said. And then he left.
* * * *
Leah walked to her 240Z, stunned. All these years she had blamed Steve for the trouble that came after that night at the frat house. It had only made sense. She hadn’t seen anyone on her way out of the house or running into her own dorm. Who else could have known where she had run from?
There were two types of girls in the ‘60s, good girls and girls who had fun. She had never been part of the fun group. Until Steve, she hadn’t minded too much. But later that day, when everyone assumed she had casually spread her legs for him, attitudes changed. Several girls had looked at her with admiration, but they weren’t the ones she hung out with, not the group she felt comfortable with. The people whose opinions she cared about looked at her with disappointment.
For a guy on campus who wanted sex, there were lots of girls willing to accommodate. But she had values.
Liar. You would have stayed in bed with him all day if he’d been willing to make love with you.
But only because I loved him!
Never would she have gone to a man’s bed with only a casual desire for sex. She’d thought she loved Steve. But once the rumors circulated, no one had believed that.
If only he had made love with her, damn him. She could have dealt with the humiliation then, even if he’d only pretended to have feelings for her. But his rejection isolated her. She couldn’t join the legions of his conquests knowing the rumor was a lie, and she couldn’t slide back into her own group because no one believed she was one of them any longer.
What had been wrong with her, anyway? Why had she not been good enough for him? Somehow, though he pretended to like her, he must have seen what everyone else, including her family saw—that she didn’t have what it took to be somebody. She didn’t have the personality, the looks, the drive, the intelligence, the…something magical that she recognized in others but no one saw in her.
“That’s old baggage. What do I do about Steve now?” She placed her briefcase on the backseat and then climbed behind the wheel. Key in the ignition, she sat staring out the windshield, trying to determine if he had spoken one word of truth back in her classroom. He’d sounded sincere. He’d looked sincere. Maybe he’d told someone without really meaning to, without trying to cause her harm. But what besides guilt could have made him run over with a mouth full of apologies and arms full of flowers? No innocent person did that.
A movement from the side of her eye had her turning her head just before Beau knocked on her window. He smiled and made a circular motion with his finger. She rolled down the window.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hello.”
“I wondered if you want to have dinner tonight. At a restaurant,” he said quickly. “Not in bed.”
It was sweet of him to make the distinction. “Eating in bed was wonderful. And don’t be nervous. Sex is the whole reason for this relationship.”
A cloud passed over his face, and then he smiled again. “That doesn’t mean we can’t go out, does it? I mean”—he waggled his brows—”we can always go home afterward and have our dirty way with each other.”
She couldn’t help laughing, “As tempting as that sounds—and it does—I have to divide my time between you and Charles. I don’t see him until Wednesday.”
Beau frowned. “So he just reminded me when I saw him crossing the quad. Everyone within earshot heard that you and he were spending the night in Charlottesville.”
“What?” I’ll kill him.
“I thought being seen in public with me, having dinner tonight, might counteract whatever trouble he’s stirring up.”
“I’ll take care of Charles. And I will have dinner with you. Where would you like to meet?”
“I’ll pick you up. Say about seven?”
She shook her head. “I’ll meet you. I’m inviting Charles, too, and”—she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The only way to get to the bottom of whether or not Steve told the truth was to see more of him. God help her, she’d have to get to know him again—”I’d like you to ask Steve to join us.”
The look of surprise on Beau’s face couldn’t be described. “Okay, I’ll ask. Shall we go to Rowlands?”
“I’ll be there at seven.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” he said. He straightened and started to turn.
“Beau?” He faced her, head tilted. She said, “I’m looking forward to seeing you again, too.”
He winked and left her there.
“I
f only there was a simple way to call someone without having to find a phone,” she grumbled. She’d have to go back to her office or call Charles from home. Leah opted to head for her house.
How interesting that Charles had made a spectacle pointing out that they would be sharing the night so that Beau would know. “Even more interesting that he would screw around with my reputation by making sure others heard about Wednesday night, too.” Yes, she could use this in the book.
And yes, she was sleeping with two men and writing a book about their reactions, but she was being discreet. Now students knew that Charles thought she would be with him for a night and could infer that he was making a point to Beau. It took little extra effort to leap to the assumption that she had been with Beau, too. The whole situation was eerily similar to what had happened with Steve years ago. Rumors, well planted, often took root.
By the time she reached her home, tucked away at the end of a long drive that wound up Massanutten Mountain, she was beyond angry. She dropped her case and tossed her purse onto the couch before stomping to the kitchen and the wall phone. Dialing Charles’s number, she tapped her foot, wanting to hear the excuse he would come up with.
“Hello?”
Good thing there was no such thing as video phone. If he had seen her expression ahead of time, he never would have answered. “Charles, how could you? I thought we were friends.”
“Leah. Hello. What are you talking about?”
“You know what. How could you announce that we are spending the night in Charlottesville in front of students? Don’t you care what people think of me?”
“Students?” He sounded genuinely perplexed. “I made sure that mass murderer knew, but I don’t know about any students.”
“Charles, you were on the quad! Every student within half an acre probably heard you.”
He was silent. “Leah, I’m so sorry. I saw that man and became so angry, I just never thought about where we were.”
That was so like Charles. Most often he was easy to get along with, but he had a stubborn streak that led him into trouble at times.
Teacher's Pets [Unlikely Bedfellows 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 7