Memoir in the Making: A May-December Romance

by Adrian J. Smith

  Meredith stuttered. She halted her movements before catching her pace again and sliding her hand up Ainsley’s shirt. That was a thought she hadn’t fully formed before it barreled into her mind at warp speed. She pushed it to side and focused on Ainsley, who was writhing underneath her in pleasure.

  “We haven’t tried out this bed yet, have we?” Meredith whispered into Ainsley’s ear, her fingers lighting fires across Ainsley’s chest.

  “We haven’t,” Ainsley said and swallowed. “We could though.”

  Meredith hummed. “I agree. I think we should. Think about it. You’re having sex with your favorite author. Have you thought about this before?”

  Ainsley groaned and bucked her hips. “No.”

  “Don’t lie. I know when you’re lying.”

  Ainsley let out a snort and then flipped them over so Meredith was on her back. Staring up, Meredith grinned. She loved it when Ainsley took control. It took the breath right out of her lungs and made her weak in the knees. Wanting to encourage her, Meredith raised her leg between Ainsley’s thighs and smiled.

  “You can take her right now if you want,” Meredith said, her voice husky and deep with desire.

  “I think I will,” Ainsley answered and bent down, kissing away every thought Meredith had.

  Chapter Nineteen

  She’d kept the book. Ainsley had slid it into her bag before she’d left the next morning and kept it close by her. She hadn’t had a chance to open it until after class on Monday. Sitting on one of the benches in the library on the first floor, Ainsley crossed her legs and looked around before slipping the book out of her backpack.

  She opened it carefully, running her fingers over the sleek cover and back again. She couldn’t believe it—she could and she couldn’t at the same time. She never would have pinned Meredith for write gay erotic romance novels, half of which had a BDSM theme to them. She flipped to the back of the book where the author’s bio was and read it like she’d read it a dozen times or so. It didn’t really say anything about the author.

  It said she loved to write, wrote in her spare time of her day job and loved characters she could relate to. It said she started writing at a very young age and pursued publishing as an experiment in one of her college courses. Ainsley took in a deep breath. The way it was written made it sound as though it was a class K. P. Schilling had taken, but Ainsley knew better than that. She knew it was a class K. P. Schilling had taught.

  Breathing deeply, Ainsley opened the book to the first page and read as quickly as possible. She forgot by the end of the second page that she was sitting in the library surrounded by people walking by, and by the end of the second chapter, she was completely lost in the story. She loved the characters—they had been her favorites in all the books Meredith had written, and to see them come alive on the page again warmed her heart. To have an actual physical copy of the book did that even more.

  She’d only ever had the e-versions of the books, wanting to be cheap and economical and make it faster to read. And when she wanted the book, she wanted the book—she didn’t want to wait for shipping. But this was a whole new treat. Meredith had given her the book, laid it right in her hands so she could enjoy it. Shivering, Ainsley read the next chapter, hardly thinking of Meredith as she focused only on the characters.

  Adam slipped next to her on the bench and looked over her shoulder. Ainsley paid him very little attention as she finished her page and then turned and raised an eyebrow in his direction. She asked, “Yes?”

  “What you reading?”

  He stole the book from her fingers and closed the cover so he could see. She rolled her eyes, heat forcing its way to her cheeks as he read the back cover. “Ainsley! Why I do declare.”

  “You like them to.”

  “I do, but where’d you get this? You never have paperbacks.”

  “It was a gift,” she stuttered and hoped he didn’t catch her hiding most of the truth. She wrung her hands together and watched him carefully.

  “A gift? Who would give this as a gift? Well, I would—at least to you—but that’s beside the point.”

  “Is it? Can’t I have found someone else who loves this book and through conversation found out I loved the series and then gave me the book?” Ainsley bit her lip, knowing she had probably said too much. Adam was quick to the mark, and she had certainly almost given everything away.

  He turned and looked at her, eyeing her suspiciously. Ainsley’s heart pounded in her chest, and she knew the flush in her cheeks was so bright red that it had to work down in order to continue to burn. Adam shook his head and handed her back the book. Ainsley shoved it into her backpack and stood up, stretching her back muscles.

  “Lunch?” she asked, thankful the conversation was close to being over and she had gotten away without him figuring it out.

  “Suuuure…wait. You said someone gave it to you? No one we know would give it to you.” He grabbed her arm and held her still when she tried to escape. “No one. So who gave it to you?”

  Ainsley narrowed her eyes, trying to figure out how to answer that question. She had been explicitly told not to say who wrote it, but she could reveal who had given it to her—perhaps that would deter Adam from asking any more questions.

  “Meredith gave it to me.”

  Adam stared at her dumbfounded. He let go of her arm and took a step back from her. Ainsley felt as though he was about to break. She took a deep breath and readied herself for the onslaught of what she shouldn’t have done according to the world of Adam.

  “You went and saw her again.”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I wanted to. And it’s not your choice—it’s my choice. I don’t see what’s wrong with it. Well, I do, but I went into seeing her knowing what was wrong with it, with my eyes wide open. I’m not some naive kid here.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  “I’m not, Adam. Can’t you see that? I’m not some virgin in high school who doesn’t know which way is the right way. I’m very clear about who I am and what I want, so let it be.”

  “No. I’m not going to let it be. This is a bad idea.”

  “We’ve already hashed this out. I’m tired of talking about it. Pick a different subject, please.” Ainsley swung her backpack over her shoulder and put her foot down. She was tired of him telling her what to do and where she could do it. He was a good friend in some respects, but him being not supportive of a relationship that was far healthier than his with Cody was ridiculous. Ainsley looked up at him and waited to see what would happen.

  “No. I’m sorry. I can’t just drop it.”

  “Then have lunch by yourself.”

  She turned and walked toward the door of the library with determination in her step. Ainsley wasn’t going to put up with his crap anymore. That had been her breaking point. She didn’t need his support or his blessing, but she did need him to just accept it and move on. If she wanted to be in a relationship with her professor who had thirty-one years on her, then she would. It was a mutual relationship—whatever the relationship was. She stumbled a step and almost stopped walking to turn back.

  Adam was there before she could start walking again, holding onto her arm and issuing apologies. She straightened her shoulders and looked up at him, staring into those big blue eyes he had. She shook her head and turned to leave again.

  “Wait,” he said.

  Ainsley looked back.

  “I’m sorry. I—I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m sorry.”

  “I don’t see why you are so bent out of shape about this when you can frolic around with whoever the fuck you want and I have to sit behind you and not give a damn. Bit of a double standard, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah. I do. And it’s not right.”

  “Damn straight it’s not right.”

  “I shouldn’t judge. You’re happy with her. I can see that. And I’m sorry.”

  Ainsley held her position, waiting to see if he would make any
more apologies to her, but when he didn’t, she softened her jaw and her look, settling down. She nodded to him and smiled. “I accept. But drop it already. I don’t know why you’re being such a pain in the ass about it.”

  “Because you’re like my baby sister. I gotta protect you.” Adam flung his arm around her shoulders and dragged her in for a side hug.

  Ainsley snorted and elbowed him in the side but left his arm where it was. If he wanted to protect her, she was fine by that. But that also meant he would have to know when to step back and let her do her own thing and be her own person. That’s what the argument had been about. She pushed open the doors to the library and stepped out into the bitter cold.

  “Lunch?”

  “Yes, please,” he answered. “Hey! What are you doing for Halloween this weekend?”

  “No idea.”

  “It’s your birthday.”

  “I’m aware.”

  “Your twenty-first birthday.”

  “I’m doubly aware.”

  “You mean you didn’t set up a huge party?”

  Ainsley rolled her eyes and looked him over. “No, but I’m sure you did.”

  “Absolutely I did. The whole Crossroads crew is going to be there. I have two kegs. It’s going to be a blast.”

  “Oh joy,” Ainsley answered. Halloween was on a Friday that year, meaning she could get plenty drunk and not worry about anything at all. She bit her lip as she walked alongside Adam toward the cafeteria, wondering if Meredith would want to do anything for her birthday. Pushing the thought to the side and the worry that bubbled in her stomach, Ainsley walked into the commons ready to eat her favorite pasta dish.

  #

  The kettle sung loudly on the stovetop, and Meredith pulled it off with a flourish. Sam was in the living room watching something on the television. She had just lightly cleaned his kitchen and wanted to sit down and join him, but tea was necessary first. Pouring the steaming water into two mugs and plopping in the tea bags, she carried them both to the living room and handed one to Sam.

  Taking a deep breath, Meredith sat down on the couch and let out a sigh. Whatever was on the television was unimportant. Sam looked over at her, studying her, and she felt he was at least somewhat getting back to normal. He’d gone back to work for three days that week, and she had no doubt that was helping in his moving on.

  “So…” Sam said.

  Meredith knew that tone, and she hated that tone. That was the tone of voice he used when he knew something she didn’t want to know and when he was expecting her to answer it. He knew something was up. Meredith bit back a curse and took a small sip of her hot tea. She didn’t want to let him in on everything, but it looked as though she had no choice in the matter.

  “How’s work?” Meredith asked.

  “Good. Heard Ainsley won that memoir contest.”

  Meredith almost choked on her tea. She turned and looked at him, eyes wide. He doesn’t beat around the bush sometimes, does he? she thought. “She did. I’m very proud of her.”

  “Uh huh.”

  Rolling her eyes, Meredith leaned forward and set her tea on the coffee table. She turned back and looked at him, glaring. “What is this really about?”

  “What happened?”

  She drew in a deep breath and let it out quickly. Meredith fingered the throw blanket laid over the top of the couch, pulling the threaded end of it through her fingers. How exactly to explain what had happened in the three weeks Sam had been mostly out of it.

  “Are you sure you want to talk about this?” she asked, already knowing the answer, but she wanted to be sure.

  Sam nodded. “Yes, I do. It’s good to focus on something and someone else for a change.”

  “All right,” she said. “What happened is a big question for an even bigger answer. I guess the simple way to put it is that I slept with her.”

  “You what?” Sam coughed and sputtered out his tea he’d been trying to take a drink of. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve and then set his mug down next to hers. He put a hand on her knee and shook his head. “You did what?”

  “I slept with her. More than once, too.” Guilt slid into the place of her happiness, and Meredith looked down at the couch cushion unable to keep her gaze locked with his.

  “Mer—”

  “I know. I know. I shouldn’t have, but…I don’t know. I just couldn’t stop myself. There’s something about her.”

  “Something what?”

  Meredith shook her head and fiddled with the blanket again. “Something I really like.”

  Sam grabbed her hand and held it close to his chest. He looked at her, deeply into her, and Meredith’s nerves ratcheted up a notch. Sam was going to figure it out before she could even put words to it. She knew he was going to tell her exactly what she was feeling, and she wasn’t ready for that yet. Breaking the gaze, Meredith pulled her hand away and reached for her tea.

  “I thought I could avoid her, you know. Like you told me to. It didn’t work out, and I couldn’t control myself.”

  Sam nodded and said nothing. Meredith wasn’t sure what he could say to make her feel better. Their bubble of happiness had been burst, and she couldn’t think about Ainsley without thinking about consequences anymore. Her job, her livelihood—those were things she needed to protect. Those and Ainsley.

  Meredith sipped at her tea again, realization sitting in the pit of her stomach. She couldn’t keep going on like that. She needed to break it off. Sighing into her tea, Meredith closed her eyes as tears threatened to pull her away from the moment.

  Sam slid in closer to her, taking the mug from her fingers, and rested her head on his shoulder. He shushed her and kissed her temple. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m an utter mess.”

  “You’re not,” he said, and she detected a smile in his tone. Curious, she moved and looked at him, and sure enough, he was smiling.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. What are you going to do about it?”

  Meredith shrugged and settled her head back against his shoulder. She breathed in his cologne, letting the familiar scent wash over and calm her aching heart. She sniffled and wiped her hand under her nose.

  “Break up with her, I guess.”

  “Are you even dating?”

  “I don’t know. Yes, but no, but yes. I don’t know,” she repeated and snuggled into Sam’s side. “See what happens when you leave me on my own for a few weeks? Everything goes to shit.”

  Sam chuckled and rubbed his hand against her arm. “I don’t think it’s as shit as you think it is. Trust me.”

  Meredith shook her head. “No, I really did a number on this one. She’s just a kid. I should have known better, but she wouldn’t know better. God…I corrupted a child.”

  “She’s not a child so much as you think she is right now.”

  “Maybe,” Meredith muttered. “She’s still so young.”

  “In age perhaps.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “Nothing I can share with you,” he answered.

  Meredith let it lie at that, staying next to him for close to an hour. Their tea got cold, but she didn’t care. She could always make another batch if she wanted it. Sam stood up after a while and held his hands out to her. Meredith put her hands in his and waited as he pulled her to stand. He moved around the living room, picking up their snack and mugs and bringing them to the kitchen. Meredith followed curious as he hadn’t said anything to her. When he grabbed her shoes and set them in front of her and then went back for her jacket, she was more confused than ever.

  “You kicking me out?” she asked, a chuckle in her voice along with fear and worry. Sam was her safe place, and if he was kicking her out, she didn’t know where she was going to go.

  “Yes and no. You have a date.”

  “I—what?” Meredith looked at the watch on her wrist and panicked. She slipped her feet into her heels and grabbed her jacket from Sam, kissing him on the cheek. “I almost forgot.”

&
nbsp; “Not almost, you did. But I reminded you. It’s good.”

  Meredith smiled and reached for the door, opening and shutting it behind her. The cold blast of air knocked some sense back into her. She took a deep breath, standing with her back to Sam’s door. Shaking her head, she turned around and went back inside.

  Pressing her hands to her hips, she looked Sam over. “What am I supposed to do?”

  “That’s for you to figure out. I’m not going to tell you what to do. I’ve tried that before, and it never works.”

  Meredith gave him a look before worrying her lower lip. “I could break it off with her.”

  “You can try,” he answered. “Just be warned that it’ll be harder than you think it’s going to be.”

  Taking a deep breath, Meredith clenched her jaw. “What do you think I should do then?”

  “I’m not going to tell you what I think. You definitely don’t want to hear it right now.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “Mer—” he moved over and grabbed her shoulders, tightening his grip before loosening it when she calmed down. “Go see her. Figure it out in the car, when you see her, whatever. Just don’t make any rash decisions based on fear, all right?”

  She narrowed her eyes at him, wishing he would just tell her what he was thinking. Sam was always good at figuring her out. But him not telling her was more frustrating than it should have been—it meant something else was up she couldn’t see, and Meredith didn’t like that. Licking her lips, she nodded.

  “Fine. I’ll go have dinner with her, and figure something out, I guess.”

  “You do that.” He pushed her toward the door, and she walked willingly. Then he stopped and spun around, going to the kitchen counter. “Oh! Mer—don’t forget this.”

  He handed her a smooth black box. Meredith gave it a funny look and opened it, staring inside at the smooth piece of jewelry. It was a necklace with a silver chain that led down to a heart shaped pendant.

  “You owe me about one-fifty for that, by the way.”