Page 38 of The Biker and the Professor
Later in the evening, when I get back from my evening run, I trip and stumble over a stuffed duffel bag as I’m entering the house.
Nero’s duffel bag.
He’s home earlier than unusual and apparently packed to leave.
For a long while, I just stand there in front of the door, staring down at his bag. It is impossible to describe what I’m feeling right now. My chest feels as if it’s being dug out with a backhoe.
Granted, I’m on this same page. I came to the same conclusion last night and crystallized it during my long run. This is whathadto happen.
But for some reason, seeing his things packed hurts me.
It hurts that he’s made a unilateral decision without even bothering to talk to me. Most of all, it hurts that it’s so easy for him to do it. Meanwhile, I’m agonizing to death about our impending end.
I’m still staring at his bag, unable to move, when I hear him coming down the stairs. That gets me moving, taking unhurried steps to the living room.
He’s in the kitchen, chugging a bottle of orange juice. Such a man.
“Hey.”
Lowering the bottle, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Good run?”
“Yeah.” I plop my butt down on the coffee table. “So…we need to talk.”
“We do,” he agrees, screwing the cover back onto the bottle. “Oh, forgot to tell you. The club’s throwing Judge a party tonight. Know it’s not really your scene but, you comin’?” With a wink, he adds, “Protect me from the Club Cats?”
I’m momentarily nonplussed. Why is he inviting me to a club party when—crap. It dawns on me then that he doesn’t intend on ending this. He plans to move back to the compound and carry on with “thing-ship.” Apparently, wearen'ton the same page.
“No,” I reply with a weighted sigh. “In fact, after tonight, you can have all the Club Cats you want.”
He slams the bottle of orange juice down on the counter and I wince. “Make sense, Toni. Make some goddamn sense.”
Nerves and unwillingness under my skin, I rub my palms back and forth along my sweat-coated thighs. “This is it, Nero. Our time is up. I’m…ending it.”
“Still not making sense, babe,” he growls. “How the hell do you go from beingin lovewith me last night to kicking me to the curb tonight?”
“It’s because I’m in love with you that I’m ending this!” I half-shout, shooting to my feet.
His eyes are glacial at this point. “Thank shit you aren’t an English professor, ‘cause even a two-year-old can string more sensible sentences together than you.”
He’s being an asshole, and I deserve it. I’m singlehandedly breaking both our hearts.
“It wasn’t supposed to be anything serious,” I say slowly. “You know that. We were both sexually attracted to each other and that led to the start of this crazy fling. We let it get too far. You even staying here, that’s well beyond the line. Fortunately, we make good housemates, but this could have been disastrous, could have turned out so badly.” I throw my hands up. “Now I’ve gone and fallen in love with you.Of course,I’m ending it! I’m not allowing myself to become susceptible to the kind of hurt that being ‘in love’ brings again. I can’t. I refuse to—”
“I’m not your piece-of-shit ex-husband,Professor,” he spits.
He knows about my past, about my ex-husband, about my family. He’d asked about my old life and I’d spilled it all during a post-coital pillow-talk one night. I’d spilled tears on his chest, too. So, he knows. Heknowshow I feel and how averse I am to ever become that weak and vulnerable again.
“No,” I agree. “But you’re capable of hurting me far more than he ever could.”
“How?”
“Because I love you more than I ever loved him.”
Although indignation blazes in his eyes, his demeanor is calm. He walks his long, strong fingers along the kitchen counter as he moves around it. “This is what you do to the people you love? Fuck them up?”
I raise my shoulders to my ears, then let them fall. “Before they can do it to me…Hurt or be hurt.”
Hands at his sides, he takes slow steps toward me. “This is what you really want?” As I start to avert my gaze, he grits out, “No. Don’t bow your head now. Look me in the eyes and tell me to fuck off.”
