Page 82 of Voyeur


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But none of it mattered when I opened the door to the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Her golden eyes seemed to glow under my porch light, wide and filled with nerves. It was an intoxicating mix with the black dress she wore. Sleeves stretched down her forearms, but her shoulders were left completely exposed. It was fitted up top, just hinting at cleavage before flaring out above her waist. I stepped back with my jaw hanging open to let her in and looked down at a small expanse of thigh exposed before being met with over the knee suede boots.

Her fingers touched my chin, lifting it back up to close my mouth. I breathed a laugh, still unable to form words.

“Like it?”

“I fucking love it. You look beautiful.” Her makeup was still subtle, and her hair pulled back in a pony tail that looked both sophisticated and still hinted at her nineteen years. “Come on in. Dinner’s ready.”

Her eyes looked all around, wide with excitement as she took in all the candles.

Her smile from across the table as we ate, talked, and laughed filled me with pride that I’d put it there. She joked, asking me where I hid the tin containers the food came in. It had to have been one of the easiest dates I’d ever had.

She set her silverware aside and took a drink of water, watching me the whole time. It was intoxicating watching the candle light flicker across her features.

“Thank you for the flowers,” she said. I’d given her a dozen roses once we entered the kitchen and she beamed, saying no one had ever gotten her flowers before. I loved being a first for her.

“I’m glad you like them.”

“My dad always got my mom flowers. Sometimes they were the ones they were about to throw out at the store and sometimes they were even just wildflowers around his building at work. Mom said it didn’t matter. It was the fact that he’d thought about her.”

“How are your mom and dad?”

“Good. Busy as always. Life hasn’t seemed to change too much for them over the years, minus having to support me. But they still work a lot to stay afloat.”

I hated that she’d had to struggle, but her smile when talking about them, didn’t make it seem like it had affected the love too much.

“How are your parents?” Oaklyn asked.

“They’re good. Just got back from a trip in Italy. Dad had some brief business to do, and my mom talked him into staying the whole week. She called me last night to tell me all about it for over an hour.”

She laughed at my eye roll. “You seem close to them.”

“I am. They’re good parents and always strove to give the best to me. They just want to see me happy.”

Her eyes dropped to where her thumb was rubbing at the side of her glass before she spoke. “What do you think they would think of me?”

Probably not happy that she was my student, but I didn’t say that. “I think they’d like you because you make me happy.”

She peeked up at me from under her lashes. “Good.”

“It’s very good.”

“Are they visiting you any time soon? Not because I’m trying to hint at a meet and greet,” she rushed to explain. “I just know you haven’t seen them in a while.”

“They may at the end of the semester. They were just here for Christmas.” I took a drink of water and tried to decide if I wanted to confide in her, but it was a no-brainer. I always wanted to confide in Oaklyn. She was my safety. “They actually mentioned me coming home.”

“I thought you didn’t go home,” she said, sitting upright, concern covering her face.

“My cousin, Sarah, is getting married.” I took another drink of water trying to ease the tightening in my throat. She didn’t say anything, but I could see the question in her eyes. “Sarah was his sister.”

“Are you okay?”

I paused before answering, taking stock of my body. Other than the nerves of speaking about it, I was calm. No sweating. No racing heart. No shaking. I was okay. “Surprisingly, yes.”

“Good,” she said smiling. “What are you going to do?”

“My original thought was no, but I feel like I’m in a better place, like maybe I could. I always assumed I’d never go back to California, but maybe . . .” I hadn’t been sure I was going to say anything, but just seeing her across from me, feeling her happiness for me, I had to. I had to ask. It was an urge I couldn’t swallow down. “But I thought, maybe, with you by my side, I could face it.”

Her eyebrows rose toward her hairline. “You want me to go home with you?”

“If you want to,” I rushed out. Her eyes were wide and not really giving any of her emotions away and nerves began to set in. “It wouldn’t be until October.”

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