Combust

by Tessa Teevan

  All too quickly, however, he’s pulling away. “But I can’t today. I have somewhere I need to be. I’ll see you around, Ruby.”

  The feel of his lips are warm as they press gently on my cheek. I’m frozen in place as I watch Cohen turn and leave the tutor center, not looking back once. My hand comes up to the place where his lips kissed me, and I have to wonder to myself, What the hell just happened?

  And when can it happen again? Unlike mine, Cohen’s ‘see you around’ wasn’t just a flippant goodbye. Instead, it’s laced with promise, and I can’t wait for him to keep it.

  AFTER CLASS, Teddy picks me up and thankfully doesn’t ask about my meeting. When I get home, I try to get ahead on my coursework, but I find myself still reeling from seeing Cohen. Deciding to check out the new band in town and take the edge off with a few friends, I head to Reese’s workplace, Preservation Pub, one of the best bars in Knoxville for live music.

  I spent last semester interning in the research department at the newspaper and not writing articles, so it’s been a while since I’ve been here, but I still feel at home. Somehow, I’m able to find a single empty barstool at the end of the counter, so I park my ass right there, waiting patiently until Reese notices that I’ve shown up.

  As I wait, I think back on the day and still can’t believe how it ended up. After leaving the academic advising meeting¸ I had time to kill before going to the tutor center, so I found myself at the library. I was able to get my mind off my upcoming chemistry course by concentrating on the journalism assignment given to me. As depressed as I felt about having to take a science class instead of just focusing on my final major courses, I was even more thrilled to be tasked with checking out the local music scene again—something I hadn’t been able to do with my internship. It couldn’t have been more perfect. I just hope that my tutoring sessions won’t interfere with it, but then again, I guess I really have no choice. It’s the final stepping stone to my degree and pursuing a career in journalism.

  My freshman year, I had no idea what I wanted to do. I’ve always loved music, but I never thought I could have a career that I could pursue music with. It wasn’t until I met Cohen that I realized how much I loved introducing new bands and music to other people as well as discovering new talent for myself as well. After everything that happened and we went our separate ways, I still never forgot his finals words to me.

  “We’ll always have our music.”

  It’s a statement that’s stuck with me for so long, and it made me finally determine what I wanted to do. So I declared my major in journalism and joined the school paper, and by junior year, I was writing my own music column. My closing line was borrowed from Cohen. I hadn’t meant to do it, but when I got to the end of my first column, something was missing, and when I typed out those words, I knew it was perfect. Not that it didn’t freak me out. The first few weeks, I was nervous every time I went into the editorial room, just waiting for my boss to pounce on me, telling me that someone had contacted the office to say that I’d claimed his words, but it never happened. It probably helped that my byline was A. Kane. Cohen never knew my last name, so there was no reason for him to make the correlation. Plus, it’s not like he had a copyright on the words anyway.

  At the thought, I sigh to myself, not sure why I’m rethinking the last three years without him. Until today, Cohen was faded history—at least for the most part. Somehow, we’ve seemed to have taken completely different paths because I haven’t seen him since freshman year. I was semi serious when I told him that I hadn’t been sure if he was still on campus. The only reason I knew he was still around is because of the girls I heard whispering and giggling about him in the library. And the coffee shop. And the bathroom. It was as if I couldn’t escape him, but he was always nowhere to be found. Not that I was ever seeking him out or anything. Bygones were bygones long, long ago, and Cohen Wellington was nothing but a blip on my radar. Hell, he wasn’t even a blip. He was so far from my radar that my sonar never even came close to detecting him.

  And then today, with one look, the sonar went off, the beeping increasing until he was right next to me. Then it was just a flat line. Like my brain was saying, Sorry, Andi. Tried to warn you, but he just came in unexpectedly and too quickly for us to be able to put up your defenses.

  It’s not that he’s always been completely void from my mind over the years. The whole ‘out of sight, out of mind’ thing has been utter bullshit, at least when it came to him. I found myself still thinking about him every once in a while when a wave of nostalgia flowed through me due to some unforeseen circumstance. Like when I’d hear a new song I knew he’d hate on the radio. Or when Reese and I would go to Nashville to check out the rising stars and I found myself wanting to text him about a new must-listen song—not that I had his number to even do such a thing, but the urge was still there from time to time. The day someone introduced Spotify to me, the first person I wanted to tell was Cohen. And all those incredible YouTube sensations who sing better than most artists you hear on the pop radio stations? He’s the only person I know who would appreciate an acoustic cover over the real thing.

  I remember when Stone Sour’s House of Gold and Bones came out, I tried to get Teddy, Cy, and Reese to listen to it, but none of them were interested. I knew right then and there that denying a friendship with Cohen had been a big mistake. If he were still in my life, I have no doubt we’d have ended up shoulder to shoulder on my bed, listening to Parts One and Two all the way through, unable to speak as the story played out in our ears.

  Instead, I listened to it on my own. It was an absolutely brilliant masterpiece of an album. It was solemn, sorrowful, and it spoke to me on so many levels. I wanted desperately to talk to my friends about it, but no one quite got it. As soon as the final song played its last chord, I knew I missed having that connection with someone like I’d had with Cohen. Even though he didn’t know me, in just one night, he’d understood me more than anyone has. Music was our thing. And I’ve missed that connection.

  That seems petty, but as the years went on and I started to use music to define me, my emotions, my feelings, I was suddenly very aware just how important it was to me. It wasn’t just entertainment. It was awe inspiring, soul awakening, and the most honest emotional outlet I could find. As much as I’ve looked for it over the years, I’ve never found anyone who gets that. Someone with whom I’d find a connection so strong, so compatible that all I’d have to do is play a song and he could read my mood. So I found myself comparing my dates, unfairly, to a guy I barely knew and they still never measured up.

  Maybe it was more than the music. Maybe it’s true what they say—that you never really forget your first and that’s why I’ve always had him in the back of my mind even after having spent just one night together. And why he’s now at the forefront of it after seeing him earlier today.

  Everything from that night has risen to the surface. Every moment, every feeling, every word said between us. And unlike my childish reaction way back then, I remember the night as so much more than just one single act. I just wish I’d been mature enough to realize that it wasn’t such a big deal, that I’d listened to Cohen when he said that everything else had been perfect and not to let what we’d done negate the rest of the night. Right about now, I really wish I could go back and kick eighteen-year-old Andi in the ass, especially since it’s obvious that I still have some sort of chemical attraction to Cohen, even though it’s probably way too late in our relationship—or lack thereof—to ever explore. Nope. That ship has definitely sailed. Hasn’t it?

  I’m telling myself not to overanalyze things when a finger snaps in front of my face and I pull back.

  “Hey, hooker. It’s about time you get here!” Reese shouts over the sound of the live band and the roar of the crowd singing along. She sets a Jack and Coke in front of me and then leans across the counter, giving me a tired smile. “We’ve been packed all night thanks to the new band in town. I’m surprised you were able to even find
room at the bar to sit down, but I’m damn glad you did. I’m exhausted and I still have five more hours on my shift.”

  Pushing Cohen out of my mind, I give her a sympathetic smile. “Sorry. I was trying to get ahead on homework. God, I am so ready for this semester to be done so I can graduate.” I lift the glass to my lips and toss my head back, downing half the drink in one long swallow.

  Reese raises an eyebrow at me as she leans her elbows on the counter. “So it’s going to be one of those nights? Girl, what the hell is on your mind?” she asks. “Is it Teddy?”

  Groaning, I take my drink and finish it off quickly before I give her the evil eye. “Don’t go there, Reese. You know how Teddy and I are. Like I tell you every time you bring it up, we’re fine. We always have been. Nothing is ever going to change between us, so you might as well get the idea of us out of your mind. For good.” She looks at me with disbelief and pours me another drink. This time, I take it easy, just taking a small sip. “I guess I’m just nervous about this semester. That’s all. I found out today that it’d be in my best interest to use a tutor for my required chemistry course. It’s just a precaution, but I agree with my advisor. I’d rather be safe than sorry. If I don’t graduate in May, I’ll go insane. Not to mention Dad will kill me.”

  As she pulls the tap on a Budweiser, she wrinkles her nose as if she feels my pain. “I wish I could say I know how you feel, Andi, but fortunately, I lucked out with Cy as a study buddy. As much as I tried to slack off, he never let me off the hook, and I’m thankful. If it weren’t for him, I’d probably still be in English 101, wondering why a verb needed a conjugal visit.”

  Rolling my eyes, I watch as she pours another drink. She drives me absolutely bonkers, yet I love her with all my heart. “Oh God. I can only imagine how that study session went.” Her eyes shine and a smile spreads over her face. “Don’t even think about reminiscing for me. There will be none of that during my tutoring sessions. I’ll be too focused on the periodic table and all that other stuff.”

  I know I’m probably just fooling myself. Something tells me that focusing on anything other than Cohen is going to be a feat in itself, but I can’t afford distractions when it comes to graduation and my future.

  “Who knows? Maybe he’ll be a hot nerd and he’ll be all about getting his proton inside your nucleus.”

  Choking on the drink I just took a sip of, I try to cough it off. Little does she know, he already has and the reaction was a little too combustible all too quickly. “Do I even want to know how you remember those terms when you’re confused by conjugated verbs?”

  “Let’s just say that Cy always made sure that our study sessions were memorable so that when I got to the test I’d be able to answer correctly. And well, they’re lessons I’ve never forgotten.”

  I let out a groan as she winks at me then walks down the bar to take care of the rest of her customers, fortunately sparing me all the dirty details.

  Not long after, Teddy, Cy, and a few more of our friends show up, and as the headlining band takes the stage, I decide that, for the rest of the night, I’m going to enjoy the music and keep my mind off Cohen Wellington and his gorgeous, green eyes. I just finish telling myself that when I feel a tap on my shoulder.

  As I move to swivel in my stool, I begin to speak. “Whatever you want, I’m not interest—” My words are cut off when my eyes meets those gorgeous green ones I was just vowing to forget.

  A sexy grin crosses Cohen’s face as he looks down at me and leans in close. “That’s all right, Ruby. You made it clear long ago you had no interest in what I want. I just wonder if that will still be the case when I’m finished with you.”

  Warmth flows in my belly at the way he’s looking at me. Part of me wants to run away. The other part of me wants to grab his hand, run away, and let him get started with me right now.

  I see Cohen give a nod of thanks to someone behind me, and when I turn around, I see two shot glasses, two limes, and a saltshaker sitting on the bar. I’m surprised when he picks one up and hands it to me, but I accept it gratefully. I move to take the saltshaker, but Cohen grabs it before I can. He then takes ahold of my hand, which is now trembling, and brings it to his lips. He never takes his eyes off mine as his tongue darts out and makes contact with my skin. Slowly, his tongue caresses the skin between my thumb and forefinger before he gently bites down on my flesh. A shiver runs down my spine, and at the same time, I feel as if the temperature in the room just rose about twenty degrees.

  With one more lick, he reluctantly pulls my hand away from his mouth and breaks eye contact to shake salt on my hand. Without a word, he nods towards the shot in my hand and stands there, waiting for me to take it. I’m still reeling from his tongue being on my skin, and suddenly, tequila sounds like the perfect remedy to calm the inner schoolgirl who’s remembering just where else his tongue has been on my body and just how good it felt.

  I pull my hand up to my mouth and lick the salt, relishing the fact that his tongue was just here. As much as I’d rather just skip the salt and taste him, he’s staring at me intently, unnerving me, so I press the shot glass up to my lips, tip my head back, and enjoy the burn. Immediately, I slip the lime in my mouth, closing my eyes as I suck the juice to help ease the burn. Images of Cohen’s mouth on me run through my mind, and suddenly, I can’t wait to return the favor.

  The thought is short-lived when I open my eyes just in time to see Cohen taking his own shot. Disappointment runs through me at the realization that Cohen didn’t wait for me to assist him with his own salt line. It must be apparent in my expression because he grins down at me, a goofy, green, limy grin. His cheeks hollow as he sucks the fruit. I can feel my nipples harden as I watch, wishing I could be the lime being sucked between his teeth.

  He pops the fruit out of his mouth, and my cheeks flush as he gives me a knowing look, almost as if he can read my mind. “What, Ruby? I wanted a shot, and when I saw you sitting over here, I started feeling nostalgic.”

  I shake my head and take his hand, holding it up to see the wet spot where he’d placed his own salt. “It’s not that. I just figured if you got to put the salt on me, I should’ve had the chance to do the same to you. You know I’m a tit-for-tat kinda girl.”

  What looks like a mixture of desire and amusement flashes in his eyes as he takes in my words. “That’s true, and one of the many amazing qualities about you, Ruby.” He pauses and looks around before leaning in close—so close that his lips are hovering over mine and I can smell the tequila on his breath.

  An errant hand lands on my thigh as the other grips the bar behind me. His close proximity is causing my mind to swim, wondering just what he’s doing. I swallow hard, waiting for him to continue.

  “But I think we both remember that last time your mouth was on me, your tongue against my skin. While I can guarantee you my stamina has increased greatly since I was an eighteen-year-old virgin and I’d love nothing more than to take you back to my place and fuck you all night long, I’m not quite convinced your tongue wasn’t responsible for the premature ending of that night and I’m not about to let that happen again. Not to mention, I don’t think you’re ready for this. For me. For us. And you know what, Ruby? That’s okay. I’ve waited three years. I can be patient for a little while longer. I have a feeling things between you and me have only just begun.”

  My eyes widen and my panties dampen as Cohen’s words echo in my mind. Fuck me all night long? This is definitely not eighteen-year-old Cohen. No, he’s been replaced with a cool, smooth, confident man who knows what he wants. Normally, I’d be offended at the implication that I’d even want such a thing, but by the knowing grin on his face, he can read my body language enough that any protest would fall flat.

  HAVING BEEN so close to Andi at the tutor center has messed with me all day. A two-hour session at the gym with Seth wasn’t enough to get my mind off her, and I know I only have myself to blame. Seeing her was enough to get my blood burning, but the moment I placed my hand
on her leg, I was a goner. I wanted to take her out of there and discover just what I’ve been missing for the last three years. And also to show her what she gave up. What she could’ve had. Not that I think she’d care. It was probably wishful thinking on my part. Either way, when I got back to my place, I had a restless feeling that I knew wasn’t going to go away, so I called up Seth and he agreed to meet me at the pub.

  We were sitting at a booth in the corner, nursing our beers, and enjoying the live music when I saw her. For the second time in less than twelve hours, I was in close proximity with Andi. After watching her go to the bar and chat with the cute female bartender, I kept my eye on her. She appeared to be on her own, doing the same as me—enjoying the music. The fact made me smile to myself, and I was grateful that she still had an appreciation for good music. I knew right then that I had my in. Getting up from the booth, I told myself that I was just going over to see how she was liking the band.

  Unfortunately, that’s not what happened. Apparently where Andi’s concerned, I have a one-track mind. I ordered the tequila shots from the other end of the bar and told the bartender where to deliver them. I hadn’t planned on helping her out with her shot, but when I saw that saltshaker, I just couldn’t help myself. Even though I knew it was dangerous territory, I couldn’t help tasting her, even if it was just the space between her thumb and finger. My cock sprung to life the moment my lips touched her skin, so when I saw her close her eyes as she savored the tequila, I made quick work of taking mine. I’m not sure how I would have reacted if she’d sucked on my skin, and I wasn’t taking that chance. Calm the hell down, Wellington. You’re not an eighteen-year-old virgin anymore. Stop acting like it.