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Chapter Seven
Alex
Catriona MacTaggart has cast a spell over me. I have no other explanation for what I've done or what I plan to do moving forward. I mean to go on behaving in a ridiculous manner, which means tickling her belly until she's laughing so hard that tears roll down her cheeks, teasing her about haggis, and making love to her as often as possible for as long as possible.
I didn't only spend the night with her. I stayed for the entire weekend. Even worse, I did nothing except play silly buggers with her. Can't remember the last time I took time off simply to…have fun. I work, I shag anonymous women, I eat, I sleep, and I go back to work. Christ, what a dull existence I've carved out for myself.
Not anymore. A single weekend with Cat has given me something I never thought I wanted—happiness.
It will all go pear-shaped, eventually. It must. Someone like me does not deserve this kind of joy. Is that what I'm experiencing? Joy? I can honestly say it has never happened to me before. Maybe that explains why I suddenly find myself almost dancing down the path to the humanities building this morning, and worse, realize I'm whistling a cheerful tune.Bloody hell. I've become the sort of bloke I used to scoff at, one of those poor sods who loses his head over a pretty girl.
As I enter the building, I wonder what Cat is doing right now. She's taking a statistics course, which means she must be inside the mathematics building right now, listening to a boring lecture about percentages and calculations or whatever. I probably won't see her again until noon, when we have our lunch date.
"Good morning, Dr. Thorne."
I stop and turn around to face the man who spoke. The dean of my department gives me a pleasant smile, and I can't help smiling at him with genuine happiness for the first time in…ever. Well, I grinned at Cat all weekend, so it's not the actual first time.
"Good morning, Dean Wells," I say. "It's a lovely morning, isn't it?"
"Yes, it is." He studies me for a moment. "Don't think I've ever seen anybody look so happy on a Monday morning. What's your secret?"
Catriona is my secret elixir of happiness. But I tell the dean, "I had a wonderful weekend, that's all. I feel refreshed."
"Good for you." He pats my shoulder as he walks past me. "Whatever her name is, you're one lucky guy."
As the dean wanders off down the corridor, I stand immobilized. I am a lucky man. My life has changed in the space of a week, and I never want to go back to the way things were.
Though I teach my classes and grade papers the way I'm meant to do, my thoughts keep rewinding to the weekend and Cat and all the things we did together. Noon finally arrives, and I sit on the bench I've come to think of as ours, waiting for Catriona to stroll up the path. When I finally see her, I swear my heart skips a beat.
She smiles and waves at me.
And I get an odd twinge in my chest.
"What did you bring for lunch?" Cat asks as she sits down beside me. "I'm fair starved."
"Must be the aftereffects of two days of sex and sightseeing."
"I think so." She bumps her shoulder into mine. "I loved our weekend together."
"So did I." Reaching under the bench, I pull out the picnic basket I'd hidden under there. "Sorry. I didn't have time to cook for you, so I ordered a picnic for us from a restaurant."
Catriona rubs her palms together and licks her lips.
I chuckle. "You are adorably ravenous."
We enjoy our picnic while talking about nothing of consequence, unless secretly joking about what other people are wearing counts as an important discussion. On our way to the humanities building, I guide her off the path and into a secluded spot surrounded by bushes and trees, where no one will see us.
And then I kiss her.
She wraps her arms around my neck and moans. I need to kiss her all the time, to taste her and feel her body pressed to mine every moment of every day. But I can't do that. I'll have to resign myself to taking whatever I can get and making love to her every night.
For the next three weeks, we ignore the rest of the world as much as possible and just enjoy being together. The longer I'm with Cat, the more I want to keep her with me forever. Do I have the right to do that? Should I do it? She has no idea about my past, and I never want to explain that to her.
This weekend, I've invited Cat to stay in my loft. For me, that's a huge step and a huge risk, though it doesn't terrify me as much as what I mean to do next.
I drive Catriona to the outskirts of town where my apartment complex lies on a quiet street, surrounded by trees and set back off the road just enough that I can't see the street or the neighboring buildings. Yes, I cherish privacy. Cat's eyes widen as we walk through the entryway of my second-floor loft and continue into the living room.
"Are you rich, Alex?" she asks. "I've never seen a loft like this before."
