“It's okay, I'm sure we can work something out.” A hopeful smile lifted her cheeks.
“Okay. I'll text you.” I held her gaze as my thumb trailed along the curve of her bottom lip.
“Sounds good.” She murmured.
“Okay,” I breathed, eyes locked, before I had to touch her. Feel her. Remind her. I kissed her long and slow, hands in her hair, lips tasting her skin with gusto. I missed her already.
“Bye, Reed.” Her stunning face lit up in that most disarming way I still wasn't used to.
“Bye, Auburn.” I placed one last kiss on her lips before opening the door and watching her step out. My heart constricted inextricably.
There was some piece of me that felt like we were trying to hold onto a live wire ready to lash out and bite, but I couldn’t convince myself into avoiding it. I didn't want to.
seventeen
My phone chimed in my pocket indicating a new email just as I left the hardware store Monday morning.
Meet me for coffee tonight. 7 at Stella's.
I’d planned on seeing Auburn tonight, but I hadn’t planned on going out with her. My mind instantly jumped to the possibility of being seen, but Traverse was a town of more than ten thousand people and still flooded with summer tourists, we'd melt into the crowds.
I hit reply and typed out a quick message. Before I hit send I noticed the 'from' line in my address bar was my work address. My fists instantly twitched. Shit. My work email.
I quickly opened my personal email, irritated by the simple mistake.
You emailed my work email. That can’t happen ever. They monitor everything. Yes, to coffee. My reply was short and abrupt, those tiny slip-ups could cost us everything. My future, our future, was all riding on how I handled this. Her reply was quick.
I’m sorry. I was wide awake at three am when I sent it. Please don't punish me, Mr. West ;) I shook my head at her reply, a lovesick grin on my face.
I plan on it. See you tonight. I hit send before putting my truck into gear and heading for home to settle in with a handful of twenty-thousand-word fictional memoirs.
***
By six fifteen I was out the door. The end of August traffic would be a bitch, and I didn’t want to be late for the start of my last night with Auburn for who knew how long. Thirty-five minutes later I was weaving my way through tourists to get to the tiny coffee shop tucked away on Front street, in the heart of bustling downtown. My eyes scanned the packed space before they landed on her, in a dimmed corner table towards the back. As I weaved my way between the tables to get to her I was conscious the entire way of being recognized. I suddenly felt like I couldn’t go anywhere with Auburn, not even a forty-minute safety zone was enough.
“I ordered for you.” She pushed the cardboard cup to me.
“Shot in the dark?”
“Yes, sir.” Her eyes glistened with merriment. “I'm really sorry about the work email thing. I promise, it won’t happen again.” She peered back at me with genuine remorse.
“I know. I'm sorry I flipped, but if this gets found out before I can do some damage control,” I paused and ran a hand through my hair, “it could be bad, Auburn. A disaster. My job is in jeopardy if we get found out too soon. I’m not technically your teacher anymore, but the legality of it is in this weird grey area, and the stigma in that town would be unbearable. They would find a way to get me out.” Fuck, the more I was talking, the more stressed I was making myself. I wanted to be all-in with Auburn, but it would require dismantling my life one brick at a time and putting it on display for our entire small town to see.
“I know. I swear, I know. It won’t happen again. We’ll do better. And it’s not like they’re monitoring every email anyway, right?”
“Auburn…someone nearly caught us with my cock in your mouth,” I grit, feeling the wave of anger take me again.
“But they didn’t. It’s going to be different when I'm gone, we won’t see each other as much, which sucks, but that gives you a chance to figure out the divorce,” her hand tightened over mine, “and it's less chance of us being caught. And if I’m not living in town, there isn’t anyone to gossip about. You can come see me at school, we can even get a hotel.” I recognized her rambling as an effort to try to convince the both of us.
“I’m sorry for putting us both in this position.”
“What position? A friend? Someone to talk to? Don't be sorry for that. I'm not.”
“A friend that finger fucked you in an elevator.” I reminded, irritated with myself.
“That’s a bonus.” She shrugged, her demeanor playful and endearing.
I quirked a grin. “That’s one hell of a bonus.”