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“Ducks are mean. One chased me on a field trip to the farm when I was a kid.”
“Those are geese. Ducks are pretty chill. Float around, eat some bugs. Geese are vicious.”
“Okay,” she said, “since you weren’t comparing me to mean waterfowl, I'll take the compliment. Thank you. I’ve felt at home here from the start. I’m not used to that. I normally act more cautious, kind of keeping to the edge till I see what the dynamic is like. But this place is special. Anyone can see that.”
When we got to her car, she shifted her bag so she could get her keys out of the pouch on her backpack. When she grabbed them—a big, jangly mess of shiny keychains and different keys, she dropped them with a clatter to the ground. I crouched down to pick them up, reaching them in time to brush her fingers with mine as she bent over. I looked up to see her face two inches from mine.
Everything got more distinct, like the moment was drawn out, moving in slow motion. I felt the light breeze, saw it stir the tendrils of hair that had come loose around her face. I inhaled the tropical scent of the lotion on her smooth skin. Our eyes locked and she swayed toward me, so close her breath was warm on my lips. Entranced, I didn’t move, not to hand her the keys or close the tiny distance between our mouths. I wanted to kiss her, needed to in fact. And she stayed so close, excitement bringing pink to her cheeks and her breath coming faster than the short walk to the car had warranted.
There was a chance she wanted me to kiss her. I didn’t misunderstand the way she leaned slightly into me, a little closer, as if all I needed to do was shift an inch and we’d be kissing. I felt feverish, urgent when I reached up and brushed back a golden strand of hair that had caressed her cheek. I tucked it behind her ear, and she smiled softly at the familiarity of my touch. That just made it sweeter and more agonizing, the knowledge that she would let me touch her, that all I wanted was for her to kiss me back.
I couldn’t risk it. Not as her teacher or her mentor on the internship. It was wrong, and I knew better. So, when she suddenly grabbed the keys, the intricate arrangement of shiny and jingly keychains sprang to life, the shriek of her car alarm blaring. She jumped, startled, and backed away from me as if I had caused the blast of high-pitched noise that broke the reverie, the stalemate between us.
With a nervous laugh, she jumped away from me and fumbled with the key fob, pressing buttons until she managed to switch off the alarm. It had served its purpose and killed the mood, I thought. I cleared my throat, a manlier alternative to the nervous laugh that had threatened to bubble out of me, I thought ruefully. I stepped back and looked at my smartwatch just for something to do to cover the fact that I was torn between annoyance at the interruption and shock at the intensity of that almost-kiss. It was only a few seconds later that a thunderclap of what-the-hell-did-I-nearly-do struck me. The force pulling us together had been magnetic and powerful. As I stepped away from the car when she climbed in, I nearly stumbled just from the force of what had almost happened between us.
“Good night,” I said. She smiled, waved at me as she shut the door and drove away.
I made my way back into the gym and sat down at the desk. My mind was reeling, and my body was keyed up. I felt like I'd just run four miles and then barely skidded to a stop at the edge of a cliff, stopping at the last possible safe second and backing away. Instead of feeling grateful and relieved that I had escaped disaster, I sat there wondering what it would feel like to run at that cliff and jump.
The exhilaration might have been worth the deadly landing.
My phone rang and for a split second I thought it might be Leanne. I saw Cory’s number flash on the screen and answered it.
“Hey, big brother, how was your day?” she asked.
As always, I had the sense of reassurance and gladness that she sounded good, strong, okay.
“I’m good,” I sawed out unconvincingly.
“You sound like you just ran for your life. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. I’m just tired.”
“Too tired to hang out?” she inquired.
“Never too tired for that. Meet me for a drink?” I proposed.
“Sure,” she replied and named a bar. I agreed and started closing up the gym for the night. Maybe it would be enough of a distraction to keep me from obsessing about what nearly happened in the parking lot.
CHAPTER13
LEANNE
Shit did not seem like a strong enough word, but it was what I was mumbling as I pulled out of the parking lot and headed home.
Oh shit oh shit oh shit.
I could not believe I almost kissed Aaron. My professor. My boss at the gym. A mentor and instructor who had been nothing but helpful and respectful to me. He’d been a gentleman, walked me to my car to ensure my safety in a dark parking area. So, I'd repaid that kindness by nearly smashing my lips to his.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, I made matters worse by dropping my keys, and pausing to gaze at him longingly. I gazed longingly. The only people who did that crap were in very old-fashioned movies, which I liked, but I didn’t live in one. I lived in the time of 2AM ‘u up?’ texts and guys who wanted to split the check for hot wings in a bar and then hook up on a futon. So maybe it was understandable how I’d start to gaze at someone like Aaron—a grown ass man with his head together, who spoke in complete sentences and listened to me with respect and could carry on a conversation. There was something really sexy about that. Maybe I was starved for a man’s attention, or maybe he really was so erotic in every single gesture and word that my body just short-circuited.
No matter what the reason, when I bent over to get my keys and so did he, the chemistry between us was sizzling. The half inch of air between his mouth and mine was so heavy, that my whole body throbbed in anticipation. I could close that distance without half trying, I thought, and I’d feel his lips on mine.
That’s how broken down I was by my desire for him. I could count my lovers on three fingers and put my education and career far ahead of dating and relationships, hardly ever feeling tempted to let a man buy me a drink much less let one kiss me. There I had been in a public outdoor parking lot, picking up my keys and wishing—not in a distant, fantasy way but in a real, gritty, in the moment way—that my professor would fuck me up against the side of a Kia. Shame burned my cheeks. I gave him a lot of credit since I'm sure I was obvious about what I wanted—he had resisted and behaved so much like a perfect gentleman.
What the hell was I thinking? I swallowed hard, trying to humiliate myself into calming down. Because my body hadn’t gotten the memo that he didn’t take me up on the invitation my parted lips, fevered eyes and heaving, flushed breasts had offered him. I was still wound up, still horny for him. I didn’t do casual sex, didn’t go pick up guys for one-night stands. But I was almost tempted then because I had never been this turned on, not even by actual sex with the guys I'd been with. This was next level. When I got home, I went directly into a cold shower. I had to cool the heat burning in my flesh and get my head on straight.
You’re not falling for your teacher. You’re not going to have feelings for him, in your heart or in your panties. Calm the hell down. Make some notes about what you learned on your gym tour, I scolded myself.
