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Simon looked up, still embarrassed, the conversation clearly making him uncomfortable. Finally he sighed.
“I meant I have feelings for you and I shouldn't.” He shrugged. I watched him as he focused way too closely on a loose thread in the seam of his pants. He liked me. Hearing him admit that made my heart swell. If he liked me then I wasn’t being a psycho crazy stalker girl.
“Simon-” I began. He cut me off.
“No Emma. Please don't say anything. Nothing you say right now can be a good thing.” I moved away from him, hurt by his words. Nothing I say could be a good thing? What the hell was that supposed to mean?
He sighed. I saw guilt in the eyes. Good. He should feel bad. For the first time he was living up to his reputation as an asshole He reached for my hand. I jerked it away, the contact like an electric shock. Now it was my turn to focus on something completely irrelevant. I chose a small stain on the arm of the couch.
“Em, I couldn't handle it if you told me you didn't feel something for me.” He turned my face to his. Oh my god, his eyes. He was staring so deeply into my eyes I felt naked. “But I don't think I could stop myself if you said you did.” His hand gently touched my cheek.
All of a sudden I was lost in his eyes. All I wanted was for him to kiss me. I wanted to feel his lips touch mine. I needed him. I hated that I needed him.
I kissed him. His shock only lasted moments, before he kissed me back. His soft lips pressed against mine, urgently searching, exploring.
He tasted so sweet. His hand cupped the nape of my neck, pulling me in closer. Our kiss deepened. His other hand enclosed mine, our fingers threaded. His skin was so soft and warm.
Eventually we parted. I sighed, leaning back into his arms. He gently stroked my arm. I could still feel it the tension. The kiss hadn't changed anything. I could feel it in his body language. He wasn’t going to give in to this, he was going to fight it.
“Em, we can't. There are so many reasons why we can't do this.” His voice was cracking, like all this was so hard for him. Had he considered what I wanted for even a second?
How could I be angry when I myself had no idea what I wanted? The irony almost made me laugh.
“What reasons?” I challenged, holding his gaze.
“For starters I am your teacher. We could both get into so much trouble over this. Second, I have a daughter. Are you ready for something like that? You're only twenty for Christ’s sake. Which brings us to number three, I'm 38-”
“Do you care about the age difference?” I cut in. He looked at me, surprised by the question.
“No.” He finally said. “I don't, but others will. How old is your mother Emma? 42? 43? I am almost the same fucking age!” I winced as his voice rose. He obviously cared about what other people thought, and that would be enough to strain any relationship.
“I’m sorry, I'm not yelling at you. I'm just angry at the situation. Can you tell me your mother wouldn't have a problem with you dating someone my age?” I couldn't tell him that. I had no idea how my mom would react. I had no idea how she'd react to me dating anyone, other than Tom.
“I get it.” I pulled myself away from him. I did get it. There were all the reasons in the world for us not to be together. Yet I couldn't move past the reasons why we should. “Believe me, I get it. Honestly though? I don’t care. I haven’t felt this way about anyone. I don’t give a shit who has a problem with us being together.” Again, he reached for my hand. I didn't stop him. “If you do though, then I get it.”
“I don’t care. Not about the age. I need to consider it though. I can’t just jump into this and pretend there is nothing on the line.” I felt myself nodding. Frustration, anxiety, confusion, I felt all that. More than anything though I felt upset that he didn’t think I was worth the risk.
“I still want to be friends with you Em. I need you in my life. I've never met anyone like you, yet I know so little about you.”
For the briefest moment, I was relieved. With all the feelings coursing through me, I couldn’t handle not seeing him at all. What the hell was wrong with me? I'd known this guy for all of a week, and I couldn’t handle life without him?
“Okay. On one condition.” I finally said, desperate to diffuse the intensity of the moment. He looked at me willingly an
d nodded.
“Anything.” He agreed. I held up Pretty Woman.
“You watch this with me. Without any snide comments.” I added, catching his look of disgust. He rolled his eyes.
“Fine, but this is punishment.” He grumbled. “I don't know why girls love this so much anyway. It's a story about a hooker and a creepy old man.” He yelped as I kicked him in the thigh. How dare anyone speak ill of Richard Gere.
Chapter Ten
Since the decision to be no more than friends had been made we had spent lots of time watching movies and eating takeaway. Simon told me about some of his cases, which I loved hearing about. He had been over every night, mostly late, after he’d finished work. Niggling thoughts in the back of my head tried to convince me he must want more than friendship, wanting to be around me so often, but I tried my best to silence them.
To be honest, I welcomed the distraction as the parole hearing neared. Derek still found his way into my thoughts, and my nightmares daily. Doctor Mellow had me working through each thought from beginning to end. His idea was that maybe I could file away some of the thoughts permanently if I gave them an ending.
Simon’s presence gave me another focus. For me, nothing had changed. I was falling for him, and he was sticking to his damn promise that we would only remain friends. The more I got to know him, the more I wanted him. I wasn't sure how much longer I could just be friends with this guy. He had done something in the last ten days that nobody had been able to do in the past seven years, and he’d known me for only a week.
