Cameron Moore.
“Jesus.” Bella put the phone back to her ear. “Uh, Yolanda I gotta go.”
“Are you all right?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. Call me if you need me.”
“Okay.” Bella switched to the other call.
Oh Lord.
“Hello? Cameron?”
“Hello, Professor Terry.”
“Oh we’re back to Professor Terry now, are we?”
He chuckled. “You made it more than clear that you felt lines were being crossed.”
“You calling me on my cell is another one.”
“No.” He made a clicking sound with his mouth. “Students can call professors if it’s important. It’s in the student handbook.”
“Okay.” She grinned for the first time since Isaiah left. “What is this important situation?”
“Ping-Pong at my place in about an hour. I just can’t let it go.”
“No way.” She checked the clock on her computer desk. “Besides it’s seven and time for Law & Order.”
“So you’re gonna reject a fun-filled evening with me for Law & Order?” He groaned. “Oh, that just won’t do.”
She laughed. “It’ll have to do. I told you we’re not doing this.”
“Even if you want to?”
A chill ran up her spine.
“I’m not in the mood to go out anyway.” She moved the tissue box off her lap.
“I could tell you’re upset. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing that concerns you.”
“If it’s that bad, then wouldn’t things be better if you weren’t alone tonight?”
He does have a point.
She glanced at her living room table, television, and computer.
How can a home with so much stuff feel so empty?
“When’s the last time you did something fun?” Cameron asked. “Something for yourself?”
“Oh hold on now.” She straightened up. “I’m a psychology professor remember? Don’t try those lame mind games on me.”
“I’m not trying any games. Am I wrong when I say you need a friend tonight?”
“I need a friend my own age, Cameron.”
“Ah.” He sighed. “So it’s the age thing?”
“Among other things.”
“Let me guess. You’re not feeling the race thing either?”
“I have no issues with your race.” She wiggled her foot. “But yes you being twenty-four and my student are big issues.”
“I can’t change that.”
“No but you can stop calling me. You can stop trying to get me to cross that line.”
“What if you want to cross it?”
“Good-bye, Cameron.”
“You have my address,” he whispered. “The offer stands all night long if you’re interested.”
She hung up.
Chapter Five
“Just a minute!” Cameron scampered from the kitchen when the doorbell rang. He patted his hair and trekked across the hardwood floor.
It had to be Bella. Something about their phone call told him he’d see her tonight.
The doorbell rang again.
He peeked out of the peephole.
See? I knew it.
He checked his hair in the little mirror in the corner, then opened the door.
Bella flashed a timid smile. She wore a fitted top that accented her ample bosom and thin waist. She’d wrapped her shoulder-length curls in a bob. The shimmering auburn lipstick glowed against her light brown skin.
“Wow.” He did a double take. “You look great.”
“What?” She pulled at the top. “This old JC Penney top and these Target jeans?”
He looked her over. “You look great in skinny jeans.” He tilted his head. “They’re so snug I can almost see what’s underneath.”
“Hey.” She pointed at him. “That’s enough of that now.”
He smirked.
“If I’m gonna come here, then you need to be respectful.”
“Got ya’.” He pretended to take the lighthearted reprimand seriously. “You gonna stand out on the porch all night, or do you wanna come in?”
She entered. “Wow.” She walked into the living room. “It’s so elegant.” Her wedge-heel sandals clacked on the floor. She checked out the built-in bookcase and walked to the dual-pane patio doors and windows. “Looks like something you’d see in a magazine.” She put her hand on her hip. “I don’t mean to be nosey…well hell yeah I do.”
He laughed.
“How the hell can a college student afford a place like this?”
“I guess I must confess.” He held his arms behind his back. “This is my best friend Artie’s place. His parents pay the rent for both of us at the moment.”
“I see.” She leaned back. “How did you score such a deal?”
“I’m close to the family.” He touched the back of his neck. “Actually I’m closer to them than my own but I don’t wanna get into that right now.”
Sade’s “Hang on to Your Love” started to play.
“Wait a minute.” Bella swayed from side to side. “No you are not playing Sade in here.”
“I take it you like Sade?” He approached her.
“I love Sade.”
“So do I.” He stood in front of her. “You wanna dance?” He held up his hand for her to take.
“Uh…I don’t think so.” She stepped back. “Besides this isn’t that slow of a song.”
He put his arms around her waist. “I think it’s good enough.”
“Whoa.” She moved his arm away. “Cameron.”
“I’m sorry, Bella. I can’t help wanting to touch you.”
She exhaled.
“I always do. When we’re in class it’s all I think about—”
“Stop it.” She walked to the center of the room. “I told you where I stand. We can talk and maybe we can be friends but that’s it. If you can’t accept that, then I can leave.”
“Please don’t.” He rubbed his hands together. “I’ll back off.”
“Good.” She scowled. “You don’t know how hard this is for me.”
“And you don’t know how hard it is having these feelings for you.” He walked up to her and took her hand. “You think you’re the only one that’s been fighting it? I know it’s not right to fall in love with my teacher but—”
“Stop.” She put her hand in his face. “We can’t talk about that, Cameron. Please.”
“Okay.” He gestured toward the kitchen. “Since you came would you like to have dinner? I was just about to eat, though I’m not sure you’ll like it.” He went to the kitchen.
She followed. “It smells wonderful.” She stood by the table. “What is it?”
He took the lid off the pot on the stove. “Vegan ravioli.” He smiled.
“It smells heavenly.” She went to the stove. “I didn’t know you were a vegan. I guess that’s why you stay in such great shape, huh?”
He looked at her with the lid in his hand.
“Uh…” She looked down and took a deep breath.
She’s attracted to me. I knew it. I knew it.
He grinned and set the lid down. “Thanks for noticing that I have a great body.”
“I didn’t say that,” she whispered.
“But you’ve noticed, right?”
“Of course I’ve noticed. That’s the problem. I notice you too much.”
“Why does it have to be a problem?”
She glared at him. “Because I’m old enough to be your mother.”
“So?” He turned the stove off. “The last time I checked twenty-four was considered grown, Bella.”
“Yeah.” She scoffed. “Not grown enough.”
“Give me a chance to show you and you can tell me if I’m grown enough or not.” He dumped ravioli on a plate and set it on the table.
She sat down and pulled the plate to her. “What’s in it?”
He stirred the spoon around in the pot.
“Mushrooms, sautéed garlic, greens, and a veggie sauce.”
She scooped some on her fork and blew on it. “If it tastes as good as it smells, then I might switch to being vegan.”
He sat down beside her with his own plate. “You like it?”
She swallowed. “It’s delicious. You can take that as a big compliment because I’m a meat lover.”
He grinned and blew into his plate. “Oh.” He snapped his fingers. “I forgot the drinks.” He went to the refrigerator then stopped. “You know what? Since you don’t come over often I consider this a special occasion.”
She wiped her mouth. “What are you talking about?”
“And special occasions call for a special treat.”
“Cameron.”
“I’ll be right back.” He rushed out of the kitchen and returned with a bottle of white wine.
“Cameron.” She put her fork down. “There’s no need for—”
“You like wine?” He took two champagne glasses out of the cabinet. “You don’t know how much it means to me that you came here.” He set the glasses on the table and yanked up the wine bottle. “I mean this might be the closest I get to a date with you.”
“Cameron, I don’t want any wine.” She put her hand to her mouth. “Water or juice if you have it is fine.”
“Oh no.” He winked. “You’re my guest and I’m gonna treat you good.”
“I don’t want any wine.”
“Ah.” He shook his head, smirking. “Is this another line you think we shouldn’t cross?” He popped the cork and grabbed one of the glasses. “Here we—”
“I don’t drink.” She pushed her plate away.
He set the glass down. “You don’t like wine?”
“Don’t like it?” She nibbled on her thumbnail. “I like it too much.”
“Jesus.” He looked at the bottle. “Are you an—”
“Fifteen years sober.” She avoided looking at the bottle. “I hope to make it to sixteen.”
“Jeez.” He put the cork in the bottle and set it way across the kitchen on the counter. “I’m sorry. I feel horrible.”
“You didn’t know.” She rubbed the front of her neck.
“Shit.” He slumped to the table and sat down. “Here I was thinking I was doing something nice and I made you feel bad.”
“It’s okay.”
“Fifteen years sober, huh?” He smiled. “That’s great. What keeps you so strong?”
“My job, my faith, my self-worth, and my sponsor.” She crossed her legs. “I couldn’t have made it without her.”
“Wow.” He blew a hard breath. “I just never imagined anything like this coming from you. You’re so put together and in control.”
“I didn’t used to be this way.” She looked straight ahead. “I was a wreck back in the day. I was a complete monster. I started drinking when I was thirteen.”
“Thirteen?”
“I learned from the best. My mother could teach anyone a thing or two about drinking. By fifteen I was a full-fledged drunk.” She touched her cheek. “My grandmother, that’s who raised me after Momma took off, got me clean.”
“What happened to your mother?”
“She met a man she felt was more important than me and ran off with him.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“I stayed sober for years, but I got married, was working on my degree, that and the stress of being a mother just took over.” She tapped her fork on the plate. “See in AA I learned that I can’t cope with stress well, so that’s why I drink. I should probably be on some type of anxiety medication but popping pills was the last thing I need.”
“This is amazing.” He bucked his eyes. “I think of you as perfect so I’m shocked.”
“I’m far from perfect.” She leaned her head back. “It’s hard to talk about the drinking because it brings back all those painful memories.” She flinched. “Brings back all the pain I caused others.”
“We all cause people pain sometimes.” He ate his lukewarm ravioli. “It’s part of being human and doesn’t make you a bad person.”
“I did something horrible, Cameron. Something I can’t bear to think about.”
“I’m sure you didn’t mean to do it whatever it was. You were sick, Bella. You couldn’t control your actions.”
“I killed my husband,” she whispered.
He stopped chewing. “What?”
She got up. “I killed my husband Ollie.” She walked toward the refrigerator. “It was fifteen years ago. After he died, I didn’t take another sip.”
“Hold on.” He turned his chair around to face her. “What do you mean you killed your husband? On purpose?”
“No.” A tear fell from her eye. “If I had the power to switch places with him, I would. Ollie was the best thing that ever happened to me.” She wiped her eye. “I took one of the most beautiful flowers from this earth.”
“I’m lost.” He leaned forward. “How did you kill your husband?”
“As usual that day I was drunk and acting crazy.” She crossed her arms. “We had a fight because I’d stayed out all night.”
“Where did you go?”
“I couldn’t even tell you.” She shrugged. “Ollie was upset and I didn’t wanna hear his mouth so…” She choked up. “I wanted to leave. I got the keys and got in the car. One thing Ollie did not allow was me getting into a car drunk.” She waved her finger. “He hopped into the passenger’s seat and tried to take the keys from me. I kept hitting him and hitting him.” She moved a fist back and forth. “I was out of control. I backed out of the driveway and flew down the street. Ollie grabbed the wheel, I grabbed it back, and we crashed into a light pole.”
“My God.”
She sniffled. “Ollie wasn’t wearing his seat belt and he flew through the window.”
Cameron covered his mouth.
“He died instantly.” She closed her eyes. “I’ve never had a drink since.”
“Did you go to jail?”
“No. It was a misdemeanor and I could’ve gone to jail for a year but God must’ve taken pity on me because I got probation and community service.” She rubbed her arm. “One of the conditions was that I join AA and the rest is history.”
Chapter Six
“You kept saying you wanted to know more about me.” Bella followed Cameron to his backyard patio after dinner. “How do you feel about me now that you do?” She sipped from her glass of cherry juice. “Did it destroy your fantasy of me?”
“Nope.” He took one lawn chair off the grass and set it on the pavement next to the other one. “I like you even more now.”
“I can’t imagine why.” She shook the juice around her glass. “Then again I can’t imagine why you’d be interested in me in the first place.”
“You’re an intelligent, sexy, beautiful woman.” He sat on the lawn chair and grabbed his juice from the table. “Does that completely elude you, Professor?”
She licked juice from her lips. “Why do you like me?”
This should be good. It’s easy to say you like a woman but harder to tell her why. Let’s see if you pass this test.
He sipped. “Why do I like you?”
“It’s easy to tell someone you like them.” She sat in the lawn chair beside him. “I wanna know why.” She crossed her legs at the ankles. “And remember I’m a psychology professor so my bullshit detector catches everything.”
“No need for bullshitting.” He laid his head back. “I could write a book on what I feel for you.”
A tingle erupted between her legs.
“It’s your age.”
“My age?” She turned her head toward him. “You’re looking for a momma figure? If so I’m definitely not who you want.”
“No but your age turns me on.” He sipped. “Everything you probably don’t like about how you look turns me on.”
“I like the way I look.” She lifted her glass. “Don’t I show it?”
“Oh you never go out the house looking les
s than a million bucks. I’ll vouch for that. But just like most women you’ve developed insecurities that usually come with age.”
“What insecurities?” She squinted.
“You don’t see yourself like I see you.” He smirked. “The imperfections that represent your age are what turn me on the most.”
Is he for real?
“I watch you in class.” He nodded. “You’re always aware of people looking at you. That shows me you’re self-conscious.”
She turned away and huffed.
“But I know you didn’t used to be that way.”
“I’m not self-conscious.” She rolled her eyes.
“Maybe that was the wrong choice of words.” He put his hand on the armrest. “What you don’t like is aging, and that’s normal. But you’re still young, Bella.” His hand brushed hers. “Age is just a number in more ways than one.”
“I wanna hear more about why you like my age or whatever.” She raised her eyebrow. “Let me see if I can call your bluff.”
“When I watch you in class, you seem more aware of me watching than you would someone else. You always turn away when I look at you.”
“That’s because you stare.” Her heart palpitated.
“I think it means something else. Whenever you’re uncomfortable with someone it means you like them.”
“Nonsense.” She slurped juice. “Anyone would be uncomfortable with the way you stare.”
“All the guys in class think you’re hot.” He ran his fingers through his hair.
For real?
“They’d never tell you, but I’ve been waiting to.” He laid his finger against her cheek. “I love the little creases on the side of your eyes.” He dragged his finger to her chin. “I love those lines that pop out the corner of your mouth when you smile.”
Her heart pounded faster.
“I love those tiny gray hairs on the side of your head that you think people can’t see.”
She cleared her throat and patted her hair.
“I love the softness of your fingers.” He slipped his fingers through hers. “I don’t think I’d be so attracted to you if it weren’t for your age.”
She parted her mouth but didn’t speak.
“Am I bullshitting now?” He leaned his mouth toward hers.
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