Once during the night, I wake up to Ander sliding inside of me. I groan and we quickly fall into a mutual rhythm. We take our time this time, learning each other’s bodies. When I fall asleep again, it is in his arms. He, alone, keeps the dreams and memories away.
In the morning, despite our discussion of birth control, we don’t use any precautions again. This really doesn’t bother me, but I am sure that, since he brought the topic up, it will bother him. Deciding to discuss it with him later, I get up and shower, redressing in yesterday’s clothing.
I have to get home to change before heading to work. College students will definitely notice if I am wearing yesterday’s clothes. It would be a disaster I am not ready to handle. Instead of waking him, I leave a note on the pillow next to him and give him a light kiss, already missing him. As an English professor, I have a better way with written words than spoken, and he needs to know exactly how much he really does mean to me. I find a pen in a drawer and start to write. Earlier, I remember him mentioning me mellowing out his rough edges and it reminds me how the power of the ocean has the ability to smooth even the roughest of edges into something beautiful.
A~ I am sorry I had to leave before you awoke, but you were too beautiful asleep to wake you. I will miss you all day, think of you all day, and feel you all day. You are quickly becoming my everything. Text me later if you can. I want to see you after work. Earlier, you said I smoothed out your rough edges. Well, you do the same for me. You are my sea glass, Ander.
~Leire
By signing it simply Leire, I know he will see past the simplicity and see that it means so much more. I make some quick coffee, so it’ll be ready when he wakes up, and head home, so much more happy and free than when I arrived here yesterday. How is it that I was so unsure and so unhappy yesterday, and now…? I swear I am in love with a man I have only known for slightly over a week. Is that even possible? With how much I currently miss him, my heart is telling me yes, it is possible. Pondering these questions, I drive myself home to get ready, then head in for another day of teaching the craziness that is the college student.
ANDER
When I wake up this morning to an empty bed, I’m a little angry. Then I notice the note. I read it over and over. Somehow, my past has been washed away. The sharp edges of my life have been softened by her presence, just like the beach glass she mentioned. I am made better just by her being near. One fucking week, and I am falling fast.
I dress and head to work, a goofy smile on my face, which Wyatt and Cora notice right away. Cora is so excited for me, but Wyatt is still on the shelf. I understand that. After Brittany, I deserve a little pessimism from my best friend. He really does only have my best interests at heart. I check my schedule and go through the motions of tattooing, all the while thinking about what we discussed. My relationship with Leire leaves me with a few new issues…namely her upcoming cancer test, and gaining custody of my daughter. The custody thing I can work through now that the divorce is final and I am the stable parent. It is the cancer thing that leaves a pit in my stomach. How does Leire live like this day after day? When we first met, she mentioned she lived for the day with no regrets. I have a feeling I am going to have to adopt that attitude, as well. I also know she has an appointment coming up sometime soon and I intend to be there for that.
As I am cleaning up the equipment from the last client, I hear somebody shouting my name up front. I stick my head out of the room and see Brittany standing there. “Ander!” she screams. “This is unacceptable. I know you love me. This…thing you have going with that little teacher is just a phase. You will come back to me. You always do. You have spent your life trying to get me back. Don’t think I will give you any chance at knowing your daughter if you continue this. Drop her now, and you and I can work it out. We can both be the parents our daughter needs.”
I was furious. “You march in here and give me orders? When was the last time you had a hard day’s work? When was the last time you did anything besides fuck or suck a dick to get what you wanted? The only thing you’ve taught our daughter is how to be a professional whore. There is no way in hell I will ever consider coming back to you, or allow you to raise our daughter any longer. I may have been blinded for a while, but now that I have tasted the sweet, I know exactly how rotten the truth was that I was clinging to. As of now, you are banned from this shop. I will also be making a stop at the police station to put a restraining order on you. You can expect the papers from my attorney sometime in the next week about how we will be handling ‘our daughter’, as you say. Now, turn your ass around and leave before Wyatt loses it and forcefully does it for you.”
I turn and head into my office before she can reply. Surprisingly, it is quiet. I sit at my desk and, seconds later, Wyatt is standing in my office with the biggest smile on his face. I look at him, waiting for him to speak. He just yells, “About fucking time!” He then turns and walks out. Yep, I know I have weird ass friends. I spend the rest of my relatively quiet day tattooing and feeling at peace with how my life is finally moving forward.
At lunch, I decide I need to make true on the threat of getting a restraining order. Between her threats and just showing up when she needs something, I am hoping I have enough to get this done. At the station, the officers are kind enough to help me through the forms. Even though there have been no physical altercations, they consider her constant showing up at my place of work stalking. They also don’t take kindly to the fact that none of the money I have been giving her has made it to my daughter. Despite the lack of concrete evidence, they place the order. I wish I could see her face when it’s served.
When I walk outside, I see a flower shop next to the station and decide to send Leire some with a note, just like the one she left me. I head inside and order a bunch of cherry blossoms, then sit to write the note. I write from my heart and I truly hope she likes it. The woman at the desk is practically salivating when I tell her it needs to be delivered today. I can see the dollar signs in her eyes.
With that out of the way, my mind feels clear and more focused than it has for a while, and I am able to return to work with a smile, churning out some of the best tattoos I have done recently. At times, I catch myself smirking over the fact that, sometime soon, Brittany will be receiving that wonderful paper. I feel like a kid again, free and able to look forward to the future. My life is turning around.
LEIRE
My day has been boring as hell. So boring, I have to admit to wanting to check out the ratemyprofessor site and do a search for myself. I like to think I am liked by my students, but you cannot always please everyone. While I am in my office, re-grading essays my TA had failed to grade correctly and eating a quick lunch, I hear giggling from the hall. I smile and remember the feeling of losing yourself so much in someone else. Hell, I am thirty-four and going through it all over again. Just thinking of Ander has me blushing, causing me to giggle out loud.
As I was grading, one of my more adept TAs comes in with another bunch of cherry blossoms. My blush immediately spreads, as Molly squeals, “Ms. Mac! Again?! They are amazingly beautiful and expensive. You are blushing like a bride who didn’t even know men had a penis when she got married. They must be from someone important. You have a man now, don’t you? If your blush is indicative of anything, I bet he’s amazing in all ways.”
I really don’t know what to call Ander. He is my everything. I know we are only seeing each other, but not having had the “boyfriend” discussion, I don’t know where to begin, so I give the simplest answer I can. “They are from a very important friend,” I tell her. I smile at the bouquet, knowing they must have cost him a ton. Luckily, they came in an amazing cut glass vase so all I need to do is add water and the little packet of plant food.
There is a note stuck amongst the blossoms.
L ~
Sea glass, in its lost and broken form, separated from its original purpose, beaten into submission by the relentless waves of the ocean, has never been something I sp
ent time thinking of…until now. The turmoil of the ocean places each piece where it needs to be to grow and change, the once sharp edges becoming rounded and smoothed by the pressure and constant pounding of the water around it, consistently pushing it into the ocean’s sandy floor. This continues until, finally, it emerges from the water on the shoreline, beautifully formed by the elements around it. It is perfectly made by everything it experienced. The entirely new piece of glass has completely transformed into something that gives the world so much beauty. You are my sea glass, the pressure and torture of the sands in your life shaped you for me. We are one single imperfect soul, found whole and smooth when pushed together by the weight and pressure of the world. Maite zaitut nire zeruko.
~ Yours always, A
It is beautiful because he had written it from the heart, the emotions clearly showing. Its value is so much more than that of the beautiful flowers. We are both pieces of broken glass, beaten by life, shaped by our experiences and coming out new, smooth, and beautiful. I just need to admit what I am feeling. All those walls I had built to keep people out have crashed around me and Ander has made his way in. There is no denying it now. He has somehow not only knocked down the walls, but lives in my heart. I am his. There’s no way around it now. I have completely fallen for him. I also know I want to get to know his daughter. His past, which he was so bothered by, could give me the family I never thought I’d have. He has given me everything, and I only hope I can do the same by helping him get Lola back.
Molly is still standing in my door, smirking. “That must have been a good one, Ms. Mac.”
I just smile. “The best.”
She leaves quietly, having seen more than words could express. It is then that I realize I still don’t have his phone number.
LEIRE
I am still working around at my desk after my classes for the day when I realize I’m not only bored, but curious. Now that Ander has planted the seed, I want to know what this stupid ratemyprofessor site has to say about me. I log onto my computer and make myself a fake account, then stop to wonder how many other people have made fake accounts and left fake reviews. This can’t be a reliable source, so I am going to take whatever I see with a grain of salt. It is not going to get to me when they say I am dry or mean, or that I grade unfairly. I sit staring at the screen, building up the courage to look myself up. After about fifteen minutes, I decide it is time to take the leap.
After finding my school and, eventually, my name, I am surprised to see that I have a 4.9 rating out of 5. Wow. Then I read the comments. A lot of them stick to the norm…“Wonderful teacher who takes time to help”; “Funny and inspirational”. Then there are the ones Ander said I would see…“Take this teacher because she is HOT”. There is even a chili pepper with which to rate hotness! What kind of teaching site is this? Thankfully, I can’t see any institution using this to review or renew a professor’s contract. But if I am ever having a bad day again, I am going straight to this site. According to this, I have the perfect legs, tits, and hair. I also took “special care” with my students. Hmm… I hope they aren’t alluding to what that sounds like because that would be an issue. I search around for a while, wasting time, then log out, feeling pretty damn good. My students like me, I have an amazing lover who I hope will eventually become more, and my life is finally focused on the future.
When I get home, I have notice unknown message my cell, which is from Ander. He hopes my day was well and asks if I had gotten any surprises. So, now I know how he kept getting them to me when we weren’t speaking. My TA must have been involved. I program the number into the phone under “Studmuffin”. It makes me smile. It has been so long since I have had anyone call to check on me.
I heat up my dinner, grab a glass of red zinfandel, and sit at the table to grade more essays. I swear, sometimes TAs are more trouble than they are worth. For tests, they work fine, but for anything written, it is better if I just do it myself. I am quietly sipping my wine and grading when my phone rings. I am so used to the silence of my house that I jump and knock the chair backwards. “Yes?” I answer breathily.
“Hey. Did I catch you at a bad time?” says Ander. I can hear the smirk in his voice.
“Nope. Just not used to the phone ringing and it scared me enough, I knocked my chair over. You also owe me a glass of wine.”
He snickers. “How about dinner, including a glass of wine, tomorrow night? I will pick you up at seven.”
At seven… No question, no debate. He has declared and I am going. Eh…who am I kidding? I am going to go. “Okay. See you then.”
“Oh, and Leire?” His voice is low and gravely. “Bring an overnight bag. I don’t need those horny college boys knowing your personal life.”
With that, he hangs up and I am left staring at my phone. Did that just happen? Did he really just call and tell me he is picking me up for dinner and to pack my bag, like it is a forgone conclusion? I don’t know if I like that. I mean, I know I put out too soon, and the sex is fucking amazing, but to assume it will happen again? I don’t know how I feel about that.
I pick up my chair and sit back at the table, grabbing a towel to wipe up the wine and salvage the papers. The more I think about it, the more I realize he is right. I will never be able to look him in the eyes and say no. So… I guess I am having sex tomorrow, too. I realize I have some major grooming to do and a very short time to get it done. I hope my waxer has time tomorrow.
On that note, I continue to grade essays. When will people realize spell check is not their friend?! “Porpoise” instead of “purpose”; “Barley” instead of “barely”… I rub my eyes and try to remember why I love my job.
Hours later and completely exhausted, I stumble to my bed, already dreaming of the day to come.
****
I awoke extra early in the morning, intending not to only get ready for school, but also for the night. I spend time shaving everything, call my waxer and make an appointment, and apply lotion to every part of my body. I take extra time on my hair and makeup, and then choose a special outfit. My students are in for a new teacher today, which should be entertaining. I check my hair and makeup, smooth my tight black pencil skirt, double-check to make sure the white silk blouse isn’t sheer, and grab my work as I head out the door.
When I get to my office, there is a vase of daisies sitting on my desk with a note.
Until tonight.
~ A
My smile can’t get any bigger. This day needs to go fast and needs to go well. I’m not about to head to his house an angry mess.
I sit in my office for a while. Students come in and out with questions about anything from homework to majors. I do my best to answer them and put them on the right track, but my mind remains elsewhere all day. When I finally have my first class, I show up without half of my assignments and have to send my TA to get them. When I initially walk into class, a few of the guys whistle and make lewd comments, but I ignore them and go on with class. This seems to happen all day, but nothing is going to get me out of my happy place.
By five o’clock, I am nearly breathless with anticipation. I need to get home, freshen up, pack that bag, and have a glass (or two) of wine. I hurriedly finish work and grab my bag, leaving all grading at the office. I email my TA, telling her she’ll find a pile of work to be graded on my desk, and head out.
When I get home, I have about an hour before Ander will pick me up. I am assuming he will show up on his motorcycle, so the cute skirt I wore this morning has to go. I decide on my dark skinny jeans and an old AC/DC shirt. I throw on my chucks, then check my hair and makeup. With having to wear a helmet, I decide on curls that I could tuck into it. I also spend time giving myself what I like to call my “evening look”, even though I have never used it. Since I have no life, I spend a lot of time on YouTube, learning various things. By now, I think I can deliver a cow, turn a man’s shirt into a sexy night dress, and do a tracheotomy. I might even be able to remove a spleen. It is amazing what you can
learn online.
Now I am rambling in my own head. I need to get it together. It’s not like we haven’t been intimate before. This just feels so much more real. I already know about him and he knows about me, but knowing about someone is very different than knowing them. Tonight, we will start to know each other.
After finishing my makeup and double-checking how I look, I pack a bag for the night, remembering all the stuff I need for work in the morning, as well as throwing in the one cute item I own to sleep in. I realize I need to make a trip to Victoria’s Secret if this is going to continue. I pack it all up and head downstairs with just enough time to grab a glass of wine.
When the doorbell rings, I take some calming breaths before I answer it. When I do, Ander is standing there, looking like perfection. He’s wearing a dark short-sleeved shirt, and his tight jeans are hugging his amazing thighs. I clench my thighs together to stifle the reaction I am having. I can’t believe this man is actually mine.
ANDER
I spend my entire day trying to pass all my tattoos off to Wyatt and the others at the shop because my head isn’t in the game. Instead, I am focused on Leire and seeing her tonight. I manage to hold myself together to get what tattoos I need to do done, but whenever the clients start to make conversation, it goes in one ear and out the other. Typically I love tattooing but today I cannot wait to be done and on the road. I think I really only finish a few tattoos before I give in and tell the shop to close up for me and that I had better things to do. I grab my helmet and the extra one I just bought for Leire and hit the road.
When I finally get to her house, I see an angel answering the door. “Hey, Ander!” she exclaims, reaching for a bag on the floor. Thankfully, it is small because it has to fit into the saddlebag on the motorcycle.
“Hey, babe. You look absolutely delicious. You ready?” I step forward and pull her into my arms for a tight hug, which she returns with enthusiasm. Taking that as my cue, I lean down and kiss her. What starts out as a slow kiss quickly turns into an all-consuming, body on fire kiss.
One More Breath Page 7