Shit. My stomach twisted into a knot. Why did I feel so bad? I wanted to blurt out that nothing had happened, that he was jumping to conclusions, but I pressed my lips together. I could have whomever I wanted over at my house, for whatever reason. Right?
I wondered if he’d storm past us to his apartment, but he surprised me by fixing a smile on his face and stopping to say hello. “Professor.” He nodded to Stu.
Stu straightened his jacket and offered his hand. God, could he be any more awkward?
Observing Cohen next to Stu made for a ridiculous comparison. Cohen looked young and relaxed in dark-washed jeans that fit low on his hips, a soft, worn T-shirt that hugged his biceps and a rugged pair of vintage-style navy-blue tennis shoes. He was f**king hot, in a casual and understated way. He wasn’t trying, he was just delicious, like the sexy boy-next-door. Whereas Stu, well…he was Stu. He gave off a distinct dad vibe that signaled his divorced status and professional job. He was someone I wasn’t even remotely at risk of falling for. Which had been part of the whole attraction in the beginning, but now I knew that that was wrong.
I couldn’t help but continue to draw a comparison between fun-loving, playful Cohen and buttoned-up, tassel-loafered Stu. Stu’s down-to-business approach to sex hadn’t bothered me before, but I realized Cohen made me want something more. That giddy, butterfly feeling that I hadn’t allowed myself to feel in so long, I thought I’d forgotten how.
I smiled, knowing I hadn’t completely lost it. I thought I’d lost it all when Paul died, but maybe I hadn’t. That thought both comforted and terrified me.
But I reminded myself that Stu was safe. Boring, practical and lackluster in bed, but safe. End of story. If it was possible, that thought made me feel worse.
Stu was saying something to Cohen about the midterm, but Cohen looked unconcerned and bored by the whole interaction.
“All right, I guess I’m off. Eliza.” Cohen tipped his head to me.
I dared a look in his direction, just as he passed by me. Anger, sadness, and…something else…was reflected in his eyes. It was that spark, that flame…whatever it was that burned between us.
I swallowed and said goodbye to Stu. That was the other good thing about his visits—no goodbye kiss was needed. I headed back inside, feeling worse than I did before Stu’s visit, which had been designed to relieve tension, not cause it.
Chapter 13
I walked home from campus on Friday evening, thankful that the weekend had finally arrived. I had nothing on the agenda but spending some quality time with my couch, bundled up in my comfy pjs with a nice glass of wine. I hoisted my bag up higher on my aching shoulder and mentally reminded myself I was overdue for a massage. And would need another waxing appointment soon. Not that anyone would notice right now. I obviously hadn’t seen Cohen and since that awkward night I’d let all of Stu’s calls go unanswered.
When I reached the front walk, I couldn’t keep myself from glancing up at Cohen’s window. His apartment was dark. He was probably out tonight, doing whatever it was undergrads did on a Friday night.
I let myself inside, tossed my bag onto the bench beside my door and collapsed face down on my sofa.
I was somewhere in between sleep and wakefulness when I heard my phone ringing from inside my bag.
I scrambled off the couch and answered on the fourth ring. Not surprisingly, it was Ashlyn.
“I have some crazy big news!” she shrieked. I shifted the phone from my ear, hoping to preserve some of what was left of my hearing.
“So spill it, doll.”
She giggled with excitement. “Oh, it’s too good. I can’t just tell you over the phone. Meet me and Aiden for drinks tonight. This is something we need to celebrate.”
“Okay. Where?” To be honest the distraction of getting out for a drink sounded good, and her giddiness was contagious. I could certainly muster up some energy for my best friend, after all.
We made plans to meet up in thirty minutes at a swanky club downtown. It was the same place we went to celebrate last term when Ashlyn’s thesis proposal was approved, and the place where she first she introduced Aiden to others, rather than keeping him all to herself in her apartment all the time. Of course, that was back when he was still known as Logan.
I peeled off my clothes and stood undressed inside my walk-in closet. I rifled through the hanging blouses and pencil skirts, but nothing seemed right. I settled on a pair of black skinny jeans and a simple black tank top, along with the tallest pair of heels I owned.
I stood in front of the mirror and twisted my hair up into a sleek bun. I hadn’t meant to dress in all black, but I supposed it fit my mood. I added lipstick and blush to wake up my look and grabbed a small leopard-print clutch, then I was on my way.
Several minutes later, I was elbowing my way through a wall-to-wall crowd at Club Aqua cursing Ashlyn’s name and regretting my decision to come out.
I should have just made her tell me her big news on the phone. I was pretty sure it had to do with the fact that her thesis was now finalized. She’d reworked it over the last year and had removed all traces of Aiden’s case from it. She’d come clean to Professor Clancy about their relationship and explained that she no longer felt right about mixing business and pleasure, so to speak. She didn’t ever want her professionalism or judgment called into question, so she spent the last year reworking her whole project. But it’d paid off. I was sure that was what tonight’s celebration was about. She’d already had a few articles published in small journals about amnesia and was really making a name for herself. It was cool to see, but that didn’t mean I needed to be out right now, getting groped and having drinks spilled on my beautiful shoes when all I felt like doing was curling up on the couch.