“How can you just talk to women like that?” I asked. “Don’t they ever get offended?”
“No, why would they? I always look for a wedding ring first, and if they’re single, it’s my experience that most girls like a little innocent flirting to brighten their day.”
I supposed that made sense.
“Why do you think your Ms. Wilde is always flirting with you?” he asked. “She’s probably trying to cheer you up a little. Pretty decent of her, if you ask me.”
A terrifying thought popped into my head.
Did she sleep with me because she feels sorry for me? Out of pity?
It seemed plausible. She was young, bizarre, and pretty, and I assumed that guys her age liked that a lot. She had plenty of options to choose from, and she probably could have had her pick of the men at Matt’s bar last night. It made me feel horrible to think that she may have only wanted to be with me as an act of charity, because I was so socially inept.
“Plus, it sounds like she’s into you,” he added, unaware of my inner turmoil.
I hoped that he was right. She had, after all, called me both good-looking and…what was it? “Insanely hot”? That doesn’t sound like pity. Plus, she did have an orgasm.
That was important to me. I was thrilled to know that she had enjoyed herself, since it had been the best sex of my life, and I did not want to be selfish in bed. I had just never been with a woman who was so willing to show me how to make her feel good. I never would have figured it out for myself, and I certainly never would have mustered up the courage to ask her.
“Incoming, bro,” Matt stage-whispered across from me, yanking me out of my thoughts.
“What?” I asked.
His eyes were fixed somewhere behind me and, like the idiot I was, I turned and looked to see Ms. Wilde and her two friends from last night, sauntering down the sidewalk in our direction, talking and laughing.
In two months I have never seen her outside of class and now that I’ve slept with her, I see her the day after? The universe is against me.
I faintly registered saying something and whipped my head back toward Matt.
“Did you just say ‘shit’?” he laughed.
Did I? I hardly recognize myself anymore.
I ducked my head, wishing that I still had a menu to hide behind. I could hear Ms. Wilde laughing just a few feet behind me, and it sent tingles up and down my spine.
Please don’t notice me, please don’t notice me.
“Stephen!”
Of course. Why did I even bother trying to hide?
I looked up, stunned by the bright smile she gave me. Was she actually happy to see me? My eyes traveled over her body, taking in the long-sleeved shirt that hugged her body, making it possible to make out the shape of her nipples under the fabric. Underneath her arm she had a rolled-up mat and in her hand she was holding some sort of blended ice drink. I looked at her face again and realized with complete humiliation that I had been caught ogling her like some sort of degenerate and my cheeks flushed. She simply smiled wider and gave me one of her winks.
“It’s Professor Worthington,” I heard myself mutter.
“Well, Stephen. Who’s your friend?” Matt enquired, as if he didn’t already know.
“Ms. Wilde, this is my brother Matt. Matt, this is Ms. Wilde,” I said in a monotone, while I avoided looking at either of them as they shook hands.
“Nice to finally meet the famous Ms. Wilde,” I heard him say. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
I wonder what the sentence is for committing fratricide? Surely the judge would be sympathetic if I showed him video clips of Matt’s asinine behavior.
“I’m famous?” she asked, sounding amused. “Well, I guess I should get myself a stalker and a drinking problem, then.”
Matt laughed. “And who are these two lovely ladies?” he asked, motioning to her friends.
“This is Sophia Perez and Megan Wilson,” she said. “Girls, this is my lit professor, Stephen Worthington, and his brother, Matt.”
I studied the faces of her two friends, trying to see if my name elicited some sort of reaction from them. That would certainly reveal if Ms. Wilde had told them anything about our tryst last night. Their faces held neutral smiles and I breathed out with relief. They didn’t seem to know anything about me.
“Nice to meet you,” I said in an effort to be polite.
“Yes, very nice,” Matt crooned, addressing the tall girl with the red hair. “Megan, was it?”
“Yes,” she said, looking slightly bored.
“What have you been up to?” he asked her, using the same voice I’d heard him using minutes earlier with the waitress.