by Alexis James
The weeks between our conversation in his office and graduation have done nothing but slowly drag on and on. I’ve trudged through my classes, homework, and finals. I’ve worked tirelessly to make certain his office is organized and ready for when school resumes in the fall. And I’ve spent too many nights lying in my bed, imagining how life is going to change for both of us once I have my diploma in hand.
I’m trying very hard not to get my hopes up about anything. There’s always the possibility that tomorrow I’ll wake up a somewhat free woman, and he’ll have decided I’m not worth it. Or worse, that I’m only good enough to sleep with him.
I despise assuming the worst, but the conflicts are real. The occasional texts I get from him do help, but I’ve been extremely cautious about contacting him, unless I hear from him first. It’s a pride thing. And something much simpler … I like knowing he’s thinking about me.
Shoving my phone into the pocket of my skirt, I smile as Charlotte approaches. Her graduation cap is perched on one side, blonde hair in ringlets over her shoulders, looking happy and beautiful as she steps right up and pulls me into her arms. “Can you believe we did it?”
“No.” Glancing around the sea of graduates, I attempt to absorb it all. Before too long, I’ll be at a new school with new friends and many new challenges. I’ll also have—fingers crossed—a tall, handsome man standing beside me. It’s hard not to be giddy about it all.
“Is your family here?”
I nod, discretely searching the crowd for a particular familiar face. “Mm-hmm. They arrived last night. The entire gang.” Rolling my eyes, I snicker. “I had no idea that everyone would be coming.”
She grins at me. “How many are there exactly?”
I pretend like I’m counting on my fingers. “Thirteen, I think.”
We share a laugh, and then she leans over and whispers, “Uh, Soph. A certain handsome professor is looking this way.”
Very carefully I scan the crowd again, finding Caleb immediately. He’s deep in conversation with one of the other history professors, but it’s not hard to miss the look he gives me or the slight lift of his head as a hello.
My stomach drops as I look away and grin, my heart pounding furiously in my chest. Just a few more hours. A few more hours.
The long graduation ceremony is a complete blur. I half-listen to most of the speakers, right up until Caleb takes the podium and then everything falls away. He speaks eloquently about his students, offering advice and counsel in that harsh yet kind way he has about him. I listen, entranced by the sound of his voice and the knowledge that he’s mine … and no one else knows it.
He keeps his gaze out among the crowd, almost as if he refuses to look my way because he doesn’t trust himself. Or me, I think with a smirk. But when he returns to his seat and our eyes briefly meet, I’m well aware he knows exactly where I am.
My entire body shakes as I step up onto the stage to accept my diploma. Thankfully Caleb isn’t one of the professors handing them out, but keeping my eyes off him isn’t easy. He looks so darn handsome in his navy suit and gray tie. Such a nice blend of sexiness and class. My fingers itch to reach out and run through his wavy dark hair, but I keep my eyes focused forward, shaking my advisor’s hand and turning slightly to have my picture captured.
The large gymnasium is filled with raucous graduates once the ceremony is completed. There’s a whole lot of yelling and laughing, some squealing, and a bunch of tears from parents and family members. It is everything a graduation ceremony should be, but I’m only half-interested in it all. Something—someone has captivated my attention. I’m beyond smitten with Professor Bonham. I’m head over heels for the man.
I push through the jubilant crowd, outside the double doors, finding my smiling brood off to one side. Mama steps up to hug me, telling me in her rapid-fire Spanish how proud she is of me. Papa is next. And so it begins. Each member of my family steps up to hug me and offer congratulations. Immediately, baby Kami is placed in my arms. As usual, everyone is talking at the same time. Marco is being crude, even though Mia is giving him the stink-eye about his vulgar talk around her children. Cruz puts his arm around me, taking the big brother stance as we talk about the ceremony and make plans for later. He has insisted on throwing me a party, even going so far as to rent a private room and hire a band. That’s my brother for you, sparing no expense for those he loves.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Charlotte talking with Caleb. His body language denotes that he’d prefer to be anywhere else other than right here in the middle of all these people, especially with me not even ten feet away.
Easing out from under Cruz’s arm and handing the baby to him, I mumble, “Be right back,” and move up to Charlotte’s side. She shoots me a wide smile and takes my hand. “I was just telling Professor Bonham about the graduation party your family is throwing.”
Nervously glancing at him, I say, “Oh, that’s good.”
He reaches out to shake my hand. “Congratulations, Miss Moran.”
I slide my palm in his. “Thank you. Your speech was wonderful.” Our eyes lock. In his I see exactly what I used to see: cold, hard, nothingness. Gone is the warmth I caught a glimpse of from time to time, the need he attempted to hide whenever we were alone. Now he’s right back to being the hostile, brooding person he once was. And suddenly the future I was so excited about seems dismal.
Dropping my hand quickly, he nods and glances around. “So I see your family made the trip.”
With a forced snicker, I shrug. “Yeah. They’re all here.” Tipping my head to the side, I ask, “I’d like you to meet them.” I take a breath and a chance. “You’re welcome to come to the party.”
His eyes narrow and dart briefly to Charlotte. “I have to be going. Good luck, Miss Moran, Miss Lewis.”
Charlotte and I stand in silence, watching him walk away until finally she turns to me and mumbles, “Okay then.”
I completely understand his reasons for not wanting to appear that we’re close, but I did work for the man. It would be natural to want to introduce him to my family. Glancing around, I see a host of other students doing just that, and my heart sinks.
I feel her hand connect with mine again. “You okay?”
“I don’t really have a choice, do I?”
“No. You don’t.” Releasing me, she steps back and smiles. “I’ll see you at the party?”
My smile feels forced. “Yep. I’ll be there.”
She walks off and immediately Bella is at my side. Her blue-green eyes meet mine and the concern is evident in the hurried way she speaks. “Soph, was that him?” I nod and look away. “Are you okay?”
“I really wanted him to meet you guys.” I know it is dumb to feel so disappointed, but I do. This is not exactly the place to introduce my … whatever he is to my family. Doesn’t mean I didn’t hope for just that outcome.
“Is he coming to the party?”
“No.”
With a heavy sigh, she pulls me back toward the group, and I attempt to lose myself in the warmth and love from my family. I feel my phone vibrate against my hip and as it does, my heart begins to shatter.
I know without looking at it that he’s changed his mind. For whatever reason … maybe it was being around all these people, maybe it was the suggestion I made to meet my family or the party invitation … but apparently he’s decided I’m not worth taking a chance.
“Hey, little sister, you doing okay?” Roman says.
Forcing a smile, I nod. “Oh yeah. I’m good.”
I’m the furthest thing from good. Maybe I’m overreacting. Maybe he needs some time to work it all out in his head. And maybe the text isn’t from him. Maybe he’s not cutting me loose, and I’m simply imagining his hostility. But something about the way he looked at me, that reserved coldness he wears so well, told me everything I ever needed to know.
Bella takes my hand, stating, “I need to find a bathroom.” She pulls me along after her, around the side of the buil
ding until we’re away from all the prying eyes. She must have known I was going to implode, and if I could speak I’d thank her.
When we come to a stop, I reach under the robe and take my phone out of my pocket with shaky fingers. Tears well up in my eyes as I see in black and white exactly what I knew the moment he looked at me:
This can’t happen. Goodbye Sophia.
Closing my eyes, I let her pull me into her arms, the silent sobs overtaking me. I’m such an idiot. Why in the world did I ever believe a man like Caleb Bonham would want to settle for a college girl like me? I’ve been so blind to my own faults … and his too, I suppose. I failed to see that amidst all these grand plans was the simple knowledge that we hardly know one another. We haven’t spent enough time together to earn trust, even though I know without a doubt that I do trust him. I trust that he’ll be honest, and he was. I trust that he means what he says. And that’s what hurts the most.
I’ve lost him before I ever really had him and the pain of wondering “what if?” makes my heart shatter just a little more. I’ll never know if we would have been perfectly suited for one another. He didn’t hang around long enough to find out. I’ll never know whether or not what I’ve been feeling is love or nothing more than a schoolgirl crush. I’ll never know, because I was never given the chance to find out.
Whiskey is no cure for pain, but I’m doing a helluva job believing it is. I’ve worked my way through half the bottle now, and all I have to show for it is a queasy stomach and a pounding head. I’ve been sitting here for hours, drinking and rolling my phone around in my hand. Hating myself for what I’ve done.
I never wanted to hurt her, but I know I have. Her silence the past two weeks post-graduation should be a relief. I told her goodbye, so why then am I drowning my sorrows like some sappy love-sick fool? I made my decision and it was the right one.
Or was it?
Eyes closed, I flop my head back against the couch and groan. I’d have given anything to have walked over and met her family, to let her introduce me to the people I heard so much about that day at lunch. It was clear watching her interact with them that they are a tight-knit bunch. It’s also clear that beauty runs in the family. I’ve never seen so many pretty faces in one group, though admittedly Sophia’s stands out among the rest.
She looked so damn happy. I know that was mostly due to her getting the well-earned diploma, but she made no secret of the fact that she was looking forward to the two of us finally spending some time together.
She knew. She knew when we were standing there talking that I couldn’t go through with it. The look in her eyes told me she saw the truth. I couldn’t risk hurting her any more than I already have. I couldn’t risk her family thinking that a man fifteen years her senior had taken advantage of her.
I’ve wondered often about what her summertime plans are. It’s something we never discussed, probably because we both assumed we’d be together and we’d make plans as a couple. I wonder if she’s gone back home, seeking refuge from the familiar. That’s what I would do. I’d want to be as far away from this fucked-up situation as possible.
My phone lights up with a number I don’t recognize. While I’m probably too drunk to answer, I’m also drunk enough not to care.
“Yeah?” I bark into the receiver.
The irritated female voice on the other cackles sarcastically. “Wow, nice greeting.”
Whoever this broad is, she apparently has no trouble busting my balls. Not that I give a fuck. “Who is this?”
“I really hope I have the wrong number,” she snaps. “I’m trying to track down Sophia. She called me from this phone number a few months ago.”
Vaguely, I search my intoxicated brain and recall handing over my phone to Sophia to use that night she was so brokenhearted over her niece. “Yeah. I remember.”
“May I ask who this is?”
I can’t help but chuckle at her tone. “Sure, you can ask. Let’s just say I’m a friend.” Right now I’m the furthest thing from being Sophia’s friend, but that’s neither here nor there.
She huffs out an irritated breath. “Well, friend, have you seen or heard from her? Because we’ve been trying to reach her since graduation and she won’t call us back.”
The effects of the alcohol drift away under the anxiety that suddenly takes over. I sit up straight, setting the bottle aside. “You’re her family, right?”
“Her sister-in-law, Amita. And you are?”
“Caleb. Have you called Charlotte?”
“Yes. But she’s out of the country on a trip with her family.” There’s a lot of voices in the background. The other family members, I presume. “Caleb, we’re worried about her. Something was wrong at graduation and she seemed … sad. Do you have any idea what could have happened?”
“Me,” I reply without pause.
There’s a long moment of silence. “Oh. Okay. So are you her boyfriend?”
With a sigh, I get to my feet and begin to pace the length of my living room. “No, I’m not.”
“Do you have any idea where she is?”
“No, I don’t. We haven’t spoken since graduation.”
After another long pause, she says, “I swear, Caleb, if you have hurt her in any way, I will lop your dick off with a dull knife. Do you understand?”
“Sweetheart, start cutting.” Tearing my hands through my hair, I stop pacing by the window. “I broke her heart, Amita. But I would never harm her physically. I hope you believe that.”
She makes a growling noise in her throat that rivals my own. “I still want to lop your dick off.”
With a chuckle, I reply, “She probably does too.” Glancing at my worn-out expression reflected in the glass, I cringe. “I’d be happy to try to track her down for you. But I should let you know, she might beat you to the dick lopping.”
Amita laughs. “I think I’d like you, Caleb, if you hadn’t hurt my sister-in-law. Can I ask why you hurt her?”
“Because I’m an idiot.”
She responds much too quickly with, “Most men are.” There’s another long pause. “Would you go by her apartment and check on her for me? It’s either that or one of the boys is getting on a plane and flying out there.”
One of the boys, I assume, would be one of Sophia’s very large, very intimidating older brothers. I can sure as hell hold my own, but let’s just say I wouldn’t recommend meeting any of them in a dark alley. “I can do that. But I’ll need her address.” I don’t tell her I can probably get it from the records at school. I’ll keep that information to myself for now.
She rattles off the address, and I jot it down. “Will you please have her call me? This isn’t like her. She always returns calls.”
“I’ll see what I can find out. I’ll get back to you shortly.”
“Okay, thanks. And, Caleb? Dull knife. You understand, right?”
With a chuckle, I reply, “Yes. Loud and clear.”
Disconnecting the call, I quickly shove my feet into sneakers and grab my keys. I’m in no shape to drive, so I call for a cab. I take the elevator to the lobby and stalk out onto the sidewalk. Thankfully the wait isn’t long, and a few short minutes later we’re weaving through traffic toward her apartment.
I have no damn idea what I’m going to say if she is there. Saying I’m sorry sounds … wrong. Though I am sorry for hurting her, I am not sorry for putting her needs above my own. There are multiple reasons why she and I shouldn’t be together and less than a handful of reasons why we should. Attraction is great, but it cannot sustain a relationship. Especially one like ours, which has had so many things working against it from the outset.
Fuck. What the hell am I doing? I have no business holding a piece of paper with her address on it, heading toward that destination. What exactly do I think I’ll find there? Most likely she’s either been too busy to call home or who knows … maybe she hooked up with some new guy and they’ve been busy entertaining one another.
The fury that washes over m
e makes me see red.
Jealousy is not pretty. It sure as hell isn’t warranted when the person you’re feeling it toward isn’t even your own. Truth be told, Sophia is nothing to me now. Not my TA. Not a student at my school. She’s nothing more than someone I used to know.
My whiskey fogged brain reminds me that she could be, if I do the right thing. If I take a chance. If I believe she and I can work through all the little stuff. It’s difficult to rationalize when your vision is cloudy, but I’m fully coherent when it comes to knowing how she makes me feel. She’s the first woman to ever make me question myself, my motives, my reactions, and every damn word out of my mouth. She challenges me on every level, and yet she’s innocent enough not to be swayed by empty promises.
The cab pulls up in front of a two-story brick and stucco building, and I take a look around. She lives in a decent neighborhood, and the building, though older, is in impeccable shape. The grounds are nicely manicured and the walkway is well lit. Admittedly, I don’t like the idea of her traipsing to her car in the semi-darkness.
Tossing some cash toward the driver, I step out onto the sidewalk and glance at the paper in my hand for her apartment number. Following the signs once I step inside the main gate, I wind around the fenced in pool and head up the stairway at the back of the building. Moving slowly down the walkway, I see lights on in her apartment at the end and slowly some of the anxiety starts to fade.
With a shaky sigh, I step up to the door and knock twice. There are muted noises coming from inside the apartment, the television perhaps, then footsteps and the sound of the lock being turned.
Her eyes widen in shock, seeing me standing there. Immediately, she frowns and snaps, “What are you doing here?”
“Amita called me. She was worried about you.” My eyes drift over her, from the snug tank top to the yoga pants outlining every curve. Her hair is piled on her head and red-painted toenails peek out from under the hem of the pants. She’s casual and slightly rumpled … and so damn enticing I have to wonder if I’ll be able to keep my hands to myself.