“Sure, I guess. I mean, I’m not sure how much she’s allowed to tell, legally and all.” He shrugs his shoulder, as if he’s already losing interest. Over my dead body.
“Will, she would sing like Beverly Sills to you. Please get me the scoop.” He just shakes his head at my pathetic need for dirty laundry. But I know he’ll have the scoop for me by the end of the day. He’s the perfect combination of boyfriend (boyfriend, omigod) and best friend.
When I get back to my office, I pick up the phone and make the call I’ve been dreading. I chew my bottom lip anxiously as the ringing echoes in my ears.
“Richards here.”
“Dr. Richards?” Didn’t he just say that?
“Yes?”
“This is Lucy Wagner.”
“Lucy!” He sounds delighted to hear from me, which is definitely a surprise. “How are you? I take it you received my email.”
“Yes, sir. I’m extremely flattered by your offer.” And I am, that’s no lie. But even though I’m flattered, I don’t know if I’m interested.
“You should be. You were up against some stiff competition, but your research is solid, and you handled yourself in the interview quite professionally.”
I did? “I did?” Oh, I probably shouldn’t say that. But Richards just laughs.
“Yes, you did. So have we missed out on the great Dr. Wagner?”
“What?” Can he tell I don’t want the job? I’m trying my best to sound upbeat.
“Have we lost you to another school?”
“Oh…Oh, no, as a matter of fact, you haven’t,” I reply weakly.
“Wonderful. So can we welcome you to the department, then?”
“Well, there are a few things I need to work out…I mean, in my personal life. Can I give you an answer by the end of the week?”
“Sure, sure, give me a call on Friday. We’re very anxious to have you, Lucy. Talk to you soon.” And then he is gone. I sit with the phone still to my ear for a long moment, my mind swirling with uncertainty. God, I have no idea what to do. My heart wants to stay with Will forever, here in Houston, and get married and buy a house and make babies and go on winter skiing trips, because Will loves to ski and I love Will.
My brain, however, has different ideas. I’ve been in college for seven straight years, I’ve spent well into the six figures on my education, all with the goal of obtaining a job just like the one that has dropped in my lap. How can I pass it up? If Will and I are going to be together, why is it me who has to compromise her career? Would Will consider putting the brakes on his career for me? How could I even ask him to?
“Don’t hurt yourself,” Jen says as she barges into my office and plops down in the wailing chair.
“What?”
“You look like you’re suffering from painful indecisiveness. What’s the deal, Lucille?”
I sigh and drop the phone in its cradle. “Ugh. My life is such a mess right now.”
“Hey, did you hear about Brickman?” She leans forward and grabs a handful of Smarties from the cup on my desk.
“Jen—can we focus on my drama?” I’m not usually quite this self-centered, but I can’t think about anyone else’s problems today without getting a headache.
“Oh, yeah, sure. Because it’s all about you,” she sneers, rolling her eyes for sarcastic effect.
“I got a job offer from LSU.”
“You’re shitting me!” A tiny bit of a Smartie flies from her mouth onto my desk, and she wipes it off sheepishly. “I thought you tanked that interview.”
“You and me both. But apparently I was the lesser of several evils. So now what do I do?”
“Umm, you scoot your happy ass to Baton Rouge and get yourself an apartment with a second room for your bff Jen. Shit, I might even get a new boyfriend out of this.”
“What about Dax?” I’m always feeling sorry for poor Dax. Yes, he’s a horrible slacker, and a bit of a pig, but he adores Jen.
“You know I’m always looking to trade up. Did I tell you he ate a piece of cheese off the floor yesterday? Off the floor. It’s like dating Scooby Doo.”
“Hmm,” I grunt noncommittally. I want to stick up for Dax, but sometimes he makes it difficult.
“Listen, I know you’re worried about Fisher, but you guys can figure something out. A long-distance relationship with lots of Skype-sex. Alternating weekends together. An industrial-strength vibrator. It’s all good, kid.”
“I dunno. Do long-distance relationships work out? I’ve never been in one.” I’m skeptical, but really, this seems like the only solution from my perspective.
“Sometimes. What does Will think?”
I haven’t exactly told him yet.”
Jen rolls her eyes in irritation. “It figures. Why don’t you sit here and freak out for a few more days, get to the point in your head where you and Will have rejected academia and joined the circus, and then tell him what’s going on. Because, you know, that would be the mature thing to do.”
“Just because you’re all reasonable and level-headed doesn’t mean that you’re not a total bitch,” I pout.
“Whatever, Sunshine. You’re just pissed because I nailed you. Now go talk to him and work it out, for God’s sake. I’m getting tired of your drama.” I know that’s a lie, because she loves drama, but it doesn’t change the fact that she’s still right. Goddammit.
Chapter Sixteen
I invite Will over for dinner that night. I figure we can have some Thai food, and some wine, and talk seriously about our lives, and our jobs, and what we both expect out of this relationship.
However, the second I open the front door, I realize things aren’t going to go quite as planned. After he’s kicked the front door closed behind him and pinned me back against the coat closet, he kisses me so deeply it feels like he might crawl right inside my skin, then leans back a fraction of an inch.
“You taste sweet. And you’re sweaty.”
“I ate a Jolly Rancher. And I’ve been cooking,” I mumble. I try to pull away, but he holds on tight.
“Good sweaty. Sexy sweaty,” he assures me, dipping his head to kiss the skin behind my ear. His fingers graze down to the hem of my tank top, and I raise my arms immediately, unquestioningly, and help him slip it up and off. His lips trail down my neck, my shoulders, my stomach, marking me with his touch, and then he’s on his knees, unbuttoning my jeans, before I can even catch up. I plunge my fingers into his thick curls and hold on, gasping as he peels down the front of my pants and runs his tongue along my hipbones. He stops to look up at me, and I see the dark desire in his eyes. I’m having a hard time catching my breath.
“You okay?” He whispers, and I nod wordlessly. He continues to pull off my jeans, and I finally kick them off my feet impatiently. He pauses to kiss the tender flesh between my belly button and the waistband of my panties. His wet lips, his hot breath on my abdomen, kick the butterflies in my stomach into overdrive.
“I can’t wait…I need you now,” I choke, grabbing a handful of hair and pulling him up to me. He rises slowly, and his lips hover over mine for a delicious second before I lunge toward him, locking my mouth over his, tasting his breath, feeling the tickle of his afternoon stubble against my cheeks. Finally he pulls away and walks backwards towards my bedroom, squeezing my hand, his eyes locked with mine.
We fall into bed, and he rips his t-shirt over his head, his long, lean body hovering over mine. “I need you, too. Always. I love you.” His voice is low and rough, and I close my eyes because it’s all too much, too intense, too…everything. And as our bodies come together and begin to melt into each other, I wonder if I will ever be able to leave him. To leave this.
***
Four hours later, I wake up with my face buried in Will’s chest, our legs tangled together, the bedding kicked off the end of the mattress in a inelegant lump. Okay, so the Pad Thai is probably cold and gelatinous in the kitchen, but I can’t muster the energy to care. Will shifts slightly, and makes tiny sleep sounds as he n
uzzles his nose in my hair. I kiss his chin and untangle myself from his embrace as delicately as I can, but obviously it’s not delicate enough, because he shifts and lifts himself slowly onto his elbows. “What time is it?” His eyes are squinty in the lamplight, and I immediately slide back into bed.
“It’s almost midnight.” I kiss his bare shoulder, and it’s smooth and hot and delicious.
“Oh man, your dinner. I bet it’s cold--I’m sorry.”
“I’m not,” I murmur, still worshiping his shoulder. There are a few stray freckles near his collarbone, and I trace them with my fingertip. “I can eat Thai food anytime. Orgasms are a little harder to come by.”
“Well, there’s no reason you can’t have both.” He pushes the hair off my forehead and kisses the top of my head. “Let’s go warm everything up—I’m sure it’s still good.” Will pulls on his boxers, and I pull on my panties and his oxford shirt, which comes down to my knees and makes me feel like Ali McGraw in “Love Story”. But, you know, without all the cancer and stuff.
I make a pit-stop in the bathroom, and by the time I get to the kitchen, Will is already re-heating dinner on the stove top. He’s even set the table, and my stomach immediately rumbles with hunger. When was the last time I ate? “Thanks, Wilbur.”
“No prob. I’m the king of the re-heat. When I first started college, my mom would make a week’s worth of meals and bring them to me every Sunday. I thawed as directed.” He stirs as he talks, and I am overcome with the desire to walk over and squeeze his ass. I resist it.
“Your mom sounds…generous,” I say carefully.
“You know she’s a total smothers mother. But once my older sister started having kids, she moved on to smothering them, to my great relief. Although I do miss the frozen lasagna.”
“My mom was a horrible cook. Which is ironic, since her family owned a café. We ate a lot of Arby’s growing up.”
“Lucky. I always envied the kids who got to eat fast food—my mom thought it would poison my body.”
“She may have been right—I developed a debilitating addiction to Horsey Sauce. I still get the shakes when I see a hunk of roast beef at the deli.”
“I admire the way you pulled yourself up from the gutter.” He grabs the tails of his (okay, so for the moment, my) shirt, and pulls me close for a kiss.
“One day at a time,” I murmur against his lips.
He grins and moves to peck the tip of my nose. “C’mon, let’s eat. If we get distracted again, I can’t guarantee this meal can be resurrected a third time.” We serve up the Pad Thai and sit at my tiny kitchenette, our bare knees bumping under the table. Seriously, even I’m feeling a bit nauseous with our excessive spurts of cute.
“So, what’s your big plan once the new owners close on this condo?” Will’s rolling his noodles methodically around with a fork, avoiding my gaze. Does he want to talk about the future? Like, the air quotes future?
“Oh, I’ll crash with my Dad for a while until I figure out my next step. Jen wants me to move in with her, but I don’t think I can handle the drama. Or the Jerseyliscious.” I take a fortifying breath—I can’t put this off any longer. “As a matter of fact, I’ve got some news.”
“Yeah?” He looks at me expectantly. Meep.
“Well, do you remember my disastrous interview at LSU?” Now I’m the one staring intently at my noodles.
“Yes, although I’m sure it wasn’t as disastrous as you make it out to be.”
“Obviously not, because they offered me the position.” Will’s silent for a very long moment, as if he’s trying to absorb my words.
“Really?”
“Yes, really. You don’t have to sound quite so shocked,. I’ll get a complex.” I punch his shoulder good-naturedly, to let him know I’m kidding.
“No, no…that’s not what I meant.” His fork drops with a clang against his plate, and he grabs my hand quickly. “Luce, that’s great. It’s just…God, it’s a wonderful opportunity.” I look longingly at our entwined hands. “God,” he says again, shaking his head.
“Yeah…God.”
“They want you to start this fall?”
“Yes.”
“God.”
“Yeah, you already said that.” I pull my hand back in my lap.
“I’m sorry.” I know he doesn’t want to ruin my good news. But I don’t seem to have a problem with it.
“I don’t want to go,” I blurt out suddenly. “I don’t want to leave you. I know that this is the culmination of everything I’ve been working for, but I just don’t care. Does that make me the biggest loser in the world?”
“Possibly.”
“Shut up.”
“Well, you can’t turn it down because of me. You’d end up resenting me—I won’t let you blow off an opportunity like this.” His green eyes are focused on mine, and I know he means it, which makes my heart start to flutter with panic.
“So you don’t want us to be together?” Wow, how pathetic do I sound?
“Lucy, of course I do. We’ll just have to figure something out.”
“What--a Facebook relationship in YoVille? I can’t just see you for a few hours every other Saturday.”
“So, I’ll move to Baton Rouge with you.”
“Nope…nope, nope, nope,” I stand quickly, to distance myself from his bad ideas. “I won’t let you throw away all of your hard work here. You’re finally tenured, you can’t leave now.”
“Sure I can, it gives me some leverage with other schools.” He follows me into the kitchen, where I busy myself rinsing dishes.
“But LSU isn’t right for you. They don’t need a legislative specialist.”
“But New Orleans is just an hour away. They’ve got Tulane, and Loyola, and UNO, and Xavier…” He’s ticking schools off on his fingers, until he runs out of fingers.
“But those are tiny, private schools, with zero in terms of research budgets. How many times have I heard you tell grad students to stay away from places like that?”
“What, now you listen to me? What the hell do I know?”
“You know. You know that some tiny Catholic school on the bayou is not where you want to be.”
“So now you’re an expert on what I want?” He grabs the plate out of my hand and turns off the water in the kitchen sink.
“Umm, yeah? I’m your best friend. I know what you want.” My voice is getting that annoying high pitch that I hate.
“Really? Because I’ve wanted you for years, and you never seemed to notice.” The plate gets thrown in the sink.
“So what are you accusing me of here? Being clueless, or being selfish?”
“Both…Neither…I don’t know.” He runs his hands roughly through his hair, which sticks up in all kinds of crazy directions when he’s finished. “I don’t want to fight.”
“Well I don’t want to, either.” Cue sulking Lucy, which is so not a good look for me. We stand off in the kitchen, both inspecting our bare feet, me feeling increasingly ridiculous in my half-dressed state. I’m pretty sure Will would rather be fully clothed for this conversation, as well.
“Can we go back to bed and pretend none of this is happening?” I whine. Denial is one of my favorite pastimes. Plus, I just want to get him back in bed, because his bare chest is giving me naughty thoughts.
“Just for tonight,” he says slowly, pulling me into a hug. “Tomorrow, we have a serious, mature discussion.”
“Okay,” I murmur into his chest.
“An open-minded discussion. With no screwing around or Gilmore Girls analogies. Got it?”
”Yep.”
“Promise?”
Jeez. “Yep.”
***
I wake up the next morning to a persistent knock at the front door. My alarm clock tells me it’s 7:30 am. Will just grunts, flips onto his stomach, and pulls the covers over his head. I guess this one’s on me, then.
“What?” I squeak, yanking the door open roughly. Of course it’s Jenny.
“I
called you six times last night. Then I texted you for another hour. What the hell?”
“Christ, stalk much, Crazy?” I’m tugging on my robe, but I can’t seem to get it closed correctly in my semi-awake state.
“I won’t be ignored, Lucy.” She gives me her best Glenn-Close-in-Fatal-Attraction stare down.
“Whatever. I was busy.”
“With what? And who gave you permission to get a life, anyway?” She walks past me, and straight into Will, who has emerged from bed (with boxers on, thank God) to make a beeline for the bathroom.
“Fisher! What an incredibly awkward surprise,” Jen chirps loudly. She loves waking people up.
“Who flipped your psycho switch this morning?” He growls, tugging her ponytail like an annoying little brother. Not waiting for an answer, he slides past and slams the bathroom door.
“So I’m thinking he’s not a morning person?”
“Apparently not,” I answer, shrugging my shoulders and heading for the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. It’s way too early for Jenny. “Why are you here at this insane hour?”
“I was worried about you. It’s not like you to miss six calls and a dozen frantic texts.”
“Sorry. I think I left my phone in the car.” I’m not really sorry. And my phone is turned off in my purse. “Do you want some coffee?”
“Duh.” She drops her purse on the table and pulls herself up to sit on the kitchen counter. “So, am I interrupting something hot and heavy with you and your gentleman caller?”
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