IT’S BEEN ALMOST TWO WEEKS SINCEILAST SAWEVIE, SO IT’S IMPOSSIBLE THATICAN STILL SENSEher presence in my bed.I’ve changed my sheets and washed all the linens that came in contact with her.Twice.I sleep with my windows open to the fresh air.
Yet every night when I close my eyes, there’s a sensation of soft hair tickling my cheek and a phantom body with warm curves just beyond my touch.I’m wakened by a sweet voice asking if she can help me.
My dreams are far from gentle and ghostly.Each night, Evie plays a new role.She is her innocent self, exploring my entire body with tentative hands.She’s a willing student, taking instruction in every way I like to be touched, licked, and sucked.She’s a voracious vixen, sucking me off harder and harder as she watches me climax.She’s a fluttering butterfly pinned to my bed as I spread her soft legs and tongue her hot, sweet core until she completely falls apart.And in the best dreams, she’s my passionate equal, begging for my hard cock and riding me until her soft voice grows hoarse with her orgasm.
I meant exactly what I said to her the last time we talked: I’m not the right man for her.Evie should be with someone like her.Some naïve freshman who will treat her the way she deserves.Who will fall in love with her and write terrible poems about her and make awkward love to her.
Obviously, I could fuck her better than any man on campus, but that’s not enough reason to do so.Evie deserves someone who can care for her.What she doesn’t deserve is a man who has nothing to give emotionally—as I’ve been described many times.
And so I carry on.It’s a small campus, but I never see Evie.I deliberately bypass places where freshmen congregate.I avoid the temptation of the Schultz Library and do all my research online.
Thank god the pre-season starts this weekend.I’ll finally have hockey to focus on.
On Thursday afternoon, I walk into the house and something smells delicious.I follow my nose to the kitchen.Coty is sitting at the table drinking coffee and reading a textbook.There’s a place set across from him with a plate, fork, and a dish of sour cream.
What’s going on?I ask.
He grins at me.A surprise.Sit down.
Puzzled, I drop my laptop bag and take the chair with the place setting.
Coty rises, brings over a covered platter, and lays it in front of me.I lift the cover to reveal a dozen steaming dumplings with braided edges.They have a homemade look that brings back memories of my baba crimping the dough with her thumbs.Whenever our family visited, she always made them fresh.No day-old varenyky for her grandsons.
You made varenyky?I asked, astonished.Can I have one?
He chuckles.No, I didn’t make them.And yes, you can have one.In fact, they’re all for you.He sits back down.
I can’t resist, I grab a fork and eat one immediately.The potato and onion filling melts in my mouth.It’s so delicious.Not the same as my baba’s, she always added cabbage.But it still tastes authentic.
I eat three more before remembering my manners and offering some to Coty.He grabs his own plate and fork, and we both dig in.
Not bad,he says with his mouth full.
You’re nuts.This is the best thing I’ve eaten all semester.But after I’ve eaten five and I’m slowing down, I realize how weird this is.
So, if you didn’t make these, where did they come from?Did you go to that European deli in Duluth?And how did he know that this comfort food is exactly what I need right now?
He holds up his hands.I did nothing—well, other than guard them so that our hungry, hungry housemates didn’t eat them before you got home.
I wait.There’s nothing that Coty likes better than drawing out a good story.
They’re a gift for you.
I stop eating.Sometimes, I getadmirerswho go overboard with gifts, but there are always strings attached.Although I might be willing to go on a date with a woman who can cook like this.
He laughs at my worried expression.Don’t worry, it’s not a bribe, it’s a thank-you gift.For something you did.
Stop fucking around,I growl.
Did you know that Evie gave handwritten thank-you cards to me, Mats, and Sinc, along with gifts?Chocolate chip cookies for Sinc.Protein bars for Mats.And a bag of Colombian dark roast for me.She researched all of us to find something that we’d really like.Very considerate, right?
As I swallow the last bite of varenyky, it feels thick in my throat.Somehow it doesn’t surprise me that Evie’s gift-giving style is that of an ancient aunt.It fits her old-fashioned vibe.
Coty cannot stop grinning.But your gift was harder to give because somehow she got the impression that you don’t want to ever see her again.That true, Zee?
I might have said something like that,I admit.
Awww, of course you would deny yourself the thing you want most.What is it with you this year?You’re killing yourself at the gym.Your social life is almost non-existent.It’s like you’re torturing yourself.Why?Life is short, mon ami.
