Professor Melinda Jenkins.
Please be wrong. Be somehow horribly mistaken about this whole thing. Maybe he has a friend over and didn’t mention it when we talked about me coming over. Maybe Blake bought a new car sometime between his afternoon class and now.
Not likely.
She pulled her car up behind the other car and stepped out, grimly noting the contrast between the expensive car and her own. Surely that transmission had no problems running over gravelly roads. It probably purred while it went.
Her heels were shaky on the pebbled pathway. That was something she hadn’t anticipated. She decided to cross between the cars and use the sidewalk, something she didn’t do often because it really wasn’t all that convenient, shoved up against the house and overgrown, with palm leaves blocking the path.
But this way she could walk without tripping and falling on her face. The last thing she needed was to sprain her ankle and get caught out here. Stuck in another awkward three-way, watching Melinda make googly eyes at Blake while Erin did her best impression of invisibility.
Orange light glowed from the kitchen window. A particularly far-reaching agave plant nipped her ankle, and she stumbled, catching herself against the brick wall. As she turned her face up to the light, she froze.
Standing at the counter was Melinda, but not as she had been before. Not put together in a business suit with her hair pulled into a bun. This Melinda was wearing only a shirt, a white business type of shirt that hung to her thighs. Her red hair fell down her shoulders, clearly mussed. She looked like a woman who had just been made love to.
The same way Erin must have on the nights she slept over.
As if to twist the knife and plunge it deeper, Melinda picked up a white container of Chinese food and fished inside with a fork. She took a bite, tilting her head and chewing thoughtfully as if to gauge the flavors.
A cat-got-the-cream smile curved her thin, wide lips.
Erin’s stomach churned, that familiar sick feeling of being on the outside looking in. God, she had wanted to believe it was all in her head. She had wanted to be wrong, but this was her nightmare, exactly so. Worse because of how comfortable Melinda looked…how smug. Erin didn’t know what that would feel like to be so sure of her position, her desirability, her man’s commitment to her that she could walk away and he’d be waiting when she came back.
Even in the fairy-tale hours after she’d first hooked up with Blake, she’d managed to push down the doubt—but God, it had been there. What if she wasn’t pretty enough, smart enough? Rich enough? Not that Blake would ever be shallow, but the financial divide could manifest in many ways. She had learned that lesson the hard way.
Feeling a heavy weight and a sickening sense of history repeating itself, she carefully pushed away from the window and returned to her car. She pulled out slowly, half expecting Blake or even Melinda to come outside and see. Surely they would notice the headlights through the window or hear the car engine.
Maybe they were too wrapped up in each other to notice or care.
Disappointment was cold and slippery in her gut, a chilling companion for the ride back to her apartment. She parked in her usual spot, but instead of heading directly inside, she wandered over to the shaded courtyard. The night was cool for a walk, but she wanted that: the darkness, the quietude. She let it envelop her as she tripped along in her borrowed three-inch heels, gathering blisters on her feet for no reason.
The end of the courtyard was marked by nothing but a curb leading onto a sloping street. During the day this was busy, but now the road was empty. She could see lights glittering from downtown. Campus was indistinguishable from the rest of the city.
A bench had been installed beside a stop for the city’s bus line. She sat down, feeling more contemplative than gloomy. The concrete reached through the thin fabric of her dress and chilled her.
What was she doing, getting all wrapped up in a man, in a relationship? Stress and drama. That wasn’t why she was here. It wasn’t why her mom cleaned houses twelve hours a day back in Laredo. Not why Erin herself busted her back at Blake’s house and then for the company, taking extra hours cleaning the liberal arts computer lab when the custodial staff had vacation.
She was here to make something out of herself and her life, to be someone powerful enough that no one could mess with her—or her mother—ever again.
You and me against the world.
When she and Blake had first made love, it had been amazing, sensual, unlike anything she had experienced before. A high in contrast to the low she felt now, when she shouldn’t be on the roller coaster at all.
So what now? Avoid him? She wasn’t sure that was possible because his office was located in a building where she had some classes. Confronting him didn’t seem like the right choice either. She didn’t want to make him feel bad about any of this…but she’d have to do one or the other. She couldn’t continue in limbo. He deserved a fair accounting from her.
With a sigh, she pushed herself up. Her skin had goosebumped while she sat, and now she ran her numb fingers up and down her arms, trying to rub some warmth back into her. Her nipples had tightened in the cold, pressing through the thin material of her bra and dress. She crossed her arms and ducked her head against the wind as she slowly hobbled back.
Chapter Eight
Blake
Blake knocked his head back on the brick wall. The wind howled softly, starting to pick up speed as the night wore on. The small alcove in front of her door blocked most of its bite, but he couldn’t feel it over the coldness inside.
Dread had built inside him, from the first expression of shock on Erin’s face, to watching her flee down the hallway, him helpless to stop her, through the long, agonizing day of watching his new students whisper about what was wrong with his face.
And he hadn’t cared about the last part as much as he’d thought he would because he was too worried he’d screwed things up with Erin.
She was always cautious with him. Even when they were making love, a part of her remained guarded, waiting for him to lash out, and he wanted to beat the shit out of whoever had made her feel that way.