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“There are little moments,” she admitted. “Like, sometimes if a girl is showing off her boobs or butt in something tight or revealing, his eyes will wander. He always snaps out of it pretty quick, but I see it. I don’t think he’d ever cheat, but sometimes I wonder if he’ll get tired of the saggy mom tits and the crows feet.”
I frowned.
“First of all, I know you don’t have saggy mom tits because I paid for you to have a lift.”
She barked out a laugh.
“You enjoyed them once they were done. Don’t lie.”
I lifted another eyebrow, pleading the fifth.
“Second of all,” I said, bypassing her comment, “you still look like you’re thirty. Any young asshole that can’t see the worth in an older woman is just that, an asshole.”
“I know,” she agreed.
There was a long silence before Paula went to refill her glass, too.
“So, where did you meet her?” she asked eventually.
I blinked, trying to figure out what to say without fully lying, and without telling the entire truth, either.
“At the college,” I drew out.
Her eyebrows bunched in confusion, then they skyrocketed up in shock.
“You dirty fuck!” she yelped. “She’s your student, isn’t she?”
Aw, shit.
“See, I told you you’re not dumb,” was all I added.
Paula cackled away, throwing herself back onto the chaise beside me like she couldn’t even sit up with how much she was laughing.
“It’s not that funny,” I told her with a frown. “Besides, she’s not my student, necessarily. She’s my TA.”
“Oh God, like that’s any better,” she gasped out breathlessly. “And she’s an English major, isn’t she, if she’s your TA? That makes her under your department and your student, whether you teach her class or not. You’re who she’ll turn in her thesis to.”
She had a point, and I didn’t like it.
“Shut up,” I said finally, completely over the whole conversation. “School is over in a couple months, and all that goes away.”
“And you think she’ll stick around after the semester ends?” she asked, her turn to lift a brow this time.
“I think that we’re taking it one step at a time. But we…” Shit, why was it so hard to admit that I loved her? “We uh, we love each other, so I think it’ll last.”
Paula whistled. “Oh boy. Love, huh? I didn’t even know you felt such an emotion.”
I tossed her a scowl.
“And what is it you think I feel for my boys? Fondness?”
“That’s different.”
“No, it’s not,” I countered. “Love is when you are willing to sacrifice for someone. When you’ll put that person’s needs in front of your own. Someone who you’ll give everything to.”
Her face softened at that.
“You’re right,” she admitted. “You feel so strongly about her?”
