I sit up, quickly buttoning my pants back up on the sly underneath the blanket, and Skylar scooches over so we can make room for them on the couch cushions. I take the middle, and Jennifer sits next to me. Ryan brings out a couple of beers and sits down in the easy chair away from the rest of us.
“How’s wedding planning going?” Sky asks after the episode finishes. I change the show to Always Sunny in Philadelphia, because I believe Sky and I have proven our point about how watching Real Housewives is another parallel between our burgeoning relationship and theirs. And now actually watching a show we both enjoy would be nice.
Skylar leans on my shoulder as we watch, covered in a blanket. She holds onto my bicep with both hands while I stroke her hair.
I notice Ryan stealing glances at us, and I don’t think it’s my imagination that phase one of the plan is working just like a charm.
A devious half-grin crosses Skylar’s face. She slips a hand down my abs and lands it on my hard length over my jeans, I realize this plan definitely has a kink.
That kink, is that the desire compounding inside me definitely isn’t an act.
For Sky’s part, her cheeks are glowing pink right now—a tell I’m definitely learning means she is turned on.
Squeezing Skylar’s thigh under our blanket, I lean over grinning slyly, and whisper in her ear, “Are you ready to come again tonight, Sky? Because I’m already hard, thinking about you.”
She shudders, her breaths becoming deeper.
But then, a few minutes later, she stuns me.
Getting up, she says, “Well y’all, I better be getting back home. Have a good night everyone.”
She gets up and I go with her out to the back to let her out.
“Sky, everything okay?”
“Yeah, sorry, just got really tired. I don’t want to interrupt you all.”
I squint at her, noting that her vibe has definitely shifted on a dime. “What are you talking about?”
“It’s just, I have to run right now, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow maybe.”
She walks out into the cold, leaving a trail of frosty breath in the night air.
See me tomorrow…maybe?
11
Skylar
Sunday morning, I check my phone for the time again and sip my coffee nervously. I’ve been reading the same page of my Spanish assignment over and over again for the past ten minutes. It's no use; my focus is all over the place this morning.
Why? First, the actual text is in old Spanish from the 1600s, which is like trying to read Shakespeare in English. Even though my Spanish is good, it’s not my native tongue. So trying to read the old stuff is tough.
Second, my mind overflows with ruminating thoughts of my walkout on Luke last night as I wait for Janice to arrive for a morning coffee chat.
I sent her a late night text that she somehow missed when she was out at the bars, so she called me early this morning to check in and make sure I was okay. I could hear the hangover in her voice.
I’m not the type of person who generally asks for ‘help with an existential crisis,’ as I texted her last night, so she was understandably worried.
This early on Sunday, College Grounds Coffee is empty except for myself and the barista. The majority of the student body was out late partying last night, celebrating the fact that we’ve made it through the coldest, darkest month of the year: January.
I set my book down, push my glasses up on my nose, and look out the window for a few moments, allowing myself to space out.
I try to imagine how I’ll articulate the crisis I’m experiencing to Janice, and what she’ll say.
So what, a super hot guy wants to hook up with you and you feel like it’s too good to be true?
Snap out of it.
Part of me feels like I’m making a mountain out of a molehill.
On the other hand, I’ve never been the sort of person who throws caution to the wind and gets washed away in a current of romantic attraction. I’ve never been swept off my feet so hard that I truly just let myself go with anyone, let alone a man with the reputation of Luke. Despite the fact that he’s my good friend and I trust him one hundred and ten percent, there are more than a few women walking around campus with a broken heart compliments of the man. I didn’t need Jennifer’s bathroom warning to know that.
And the way I feel when my body is lying next to him on the couch—not to mention how he made me come harder than I had in my life with just his mouth and digits—makes me weary of how badly I might lose control with him. As much as I wanted to cross that line with him and go all the way, his dirty talk made me realize I wasn’t quite ready yet.
Plus, there’s some unfinished business I need to take care of with Janice this morning. I’ve been trying to get together with her all week, but she’s been busy.
The door rattles, and an attractive woman who looks to be in her late or mid-twenties appears. Definitely not a student. I don’t recognize her by name, but I swear I’ve seen her face before, somewhere. Greene State U is like that.
A few minutes later, Janice swings the door open and waves to me as she files inside. She orders a coffee and is about to sit down when she strikes up a conversation with the other woman I noticed before. The two of them come and sit down in the little triangle of chairs I’ve saved for us, laughing.
“Good morning, Sky!” Janice says, tipping her coffee toward me as she sits. “Have you met Professor Hanks?”
“I have not,” I say.
The woman smiles. “You can call me Professor Rose or Professor Hanks. I’m new here. My husband and I just got started at Greene State U this term.”
“Professor Rose is teaching that awesome course about human sexuality that everyone is talking about,” Janice says. “She and her husband co-teach it.”
“You’re the sexuality professor?”
“That’s me.” She smiles, then looks at Janice. “The weird husband-and-wife team that teaches a class about desires and how to have successful relationships.”
All of a sudden, I feel like I’m in the presence of greatness. There is a waiting list a mile long to get into their class, even though they’ve been expanding it as much as they can handle.
“It’s an area that I think people have some difficulty understanding, and everyone can relate,” I say. “It’s present in our everyday lives, not like ancient Greek history or some of the other classes.”
I take a sip of my coffee and mumble under my breath something else about my current situation.
Professor Rose furrows her brow. “Did you say something?” she asks, and I realize I mumbled too loudly for it to be just to myself.
“I’m sorry, I was just saying how I could use some of that understanding myself. I should have enrolled in that class.”
“You should totally take her spring term class,” Janice chimes in. “It’s a lottery to get in, but they’re opening up fifteen additional spots because it’s so popular.”
Rose interjects, “And if you’re going through something and want to share, feel free. One of the things that hurts us the most with relationships is when we lock down and hide our feelings.”
I hesitate, feeling like I’m about to share my personal life with a stranger.