The week passed slowly. Amara spent as much time as possible reading to expand her knowledge. But she couldn’t focus, her mind often drifting to Matthew, to the night at the bar and the day afterward. Occasionally, she’d hear songs on the bookstore’s radio she’d listened to with him, and she’d be right back in his living room, leaning against his shoulder, breathing in his lovely smell.
He’d texted once to Eliza’s phone, the number of which she’d given him.
Driving lessons Saturday?
It’d taken her several minutes to reply.
Yes, pleaase. I thankk you foir yur time. Amara.
Nothing personal. A message more business-like than friendly on both their parts. But that’s how they’d said they wanted it.
So why did she lie awake at night, thinking of him, wondering what he was doing?
Likely working. The man reminded her of Deveric in his single-minded dedication to his goal, his total commitment to achieving this tenure. His need for security made sense, given what he’d shared about his father.
What was her greatest need? She didn’t know. She’d come here because she longed to break out, to rebel, to defy expectations and conventions and forge her own path on her own terms. On the other hand, she wanted a place she belonged, a place she could be accepted for exactly who she was.
The struggle between the two opposing desires had dogged her days at Clarehaven, and sadly, she hadn’t escaped it here, as she’d hoped. Her dream of being an independent woman, of achieving whatever level of education she wished, of pursuing whatever she chose, was within her grasp. She never had to be beholden to anyone again, much less a man. So why didn’t it feel enough?
Because I’m lonely.
Loneliness was an emotion to which she was long accustomed, her constant shadow even before the scandal. She’d never completely fitted in with her family, with her society.
She’d hoped to eradicate that loneliness here.
These things take time, Amara. Her friendship with Cat was deepening, though she’d yet to confide about her day with Matthew. She’d spent another evening in company with Cat’s friends, Jill and Shannon, who were entertaining companions. But all were a good ten years older than she. Not that their difference in age precluded friendship, but all three were also married, and Cat and Shannon spent much time discussing their children.
Amara needed friends of her own, friends to replace her sisters, whom she missed dearly. Her thoughts flitted to Taylor, Matthew’s sister. They’d only met that one evening, but she’d liked the woman, had enjoyed her easy-going nature. Too bad Taylor did not live in town.
Saturday. She’d ask Matthew about Taylor on Saturday.
She glanced at the phone at her side. No messages. She could text him, of course. But what could she say that wouldn’t be misconstrued as meaning more than it did?
Saturday. Saturday was fine.
Saturday couldn’t come soon enough.
Matt threw himself into work, attempting to drown out the constant thoughts and memories of Amara underneath him, over him, with the mound of papers, emails, and requests he had to deal with.
It was good on the one hand; he’d fallen behind on the goals he’d set earlier in the semester. And working was easy, familiar. He spent his days and evenings in front of the screen, rising only to teach, attend meetings, eat, and work out at the gym. Just like he always had. And yet, it felt emptier, hollower.
His hands itched toward his phone, wanting to text her, to say hi, to see if she’d like to come over. But he wasn’t about to sink to a booty call text. He wouldn’t disrespect her in such a way. He could call, but that felt more intrusive, more personal. It’d suggest more than he wished to. And besides, maybe their one day had been enough for her. Maybe she didn’t need or want to repeat it.
But, God, he hoped she did. He’d never found such pleasure with a woman. It’d been perfect right from the start.
Except for the lack of a condom. He cursed under his breath, angry again he’d been so negligent. He’d never forgotten before. Ever. But he’d studied biology, knew down to the percentage how unlikely it was one encounter would produce a pregnancy.
He ran his hands down his thighs, breathing out hard. No, focus on the fun parts, not the fear. Or on work. He’d see her Saturday, could gauge her level of interest at that point. Until then, he had tons to do. He needed all the time he could get.
Saturday couldn’t come soon enough.