Page 60 of Pour Decisions
“Like what?” I asked, intrigued. I’d seen the energy shedescribed flashing in her eyes now and then. She radiated the same spiritedness as my brother, West.
God, those two would get on like a forest fire.
Her eyes met mine again, a heavy sigh raising and lowering her shoulders dramatically. Then she said the last thing I ever expected.
“You’re not the first older guy I’ve ever had a crush on.”
I smirked, wiggling my brows. “You have a crush on me?”
“Not the point, QB.”
She was right, of course. The more time I’d spent with her, the less the ten years between us mattered to me. I’d come to realize that, once you reached a certain stage in your life, age really was just a number. I’d only been using the gap as an excuse not to work with her before because I’d thought she was a wildcard.
And she was, only…not in the ways I expected.
“How old are we talking here?”
“He was forty to my twenty-two.”
I whistled low, mostly to hide my shock. Nearly twenty years between them? Who had this guy been? Why was I compelled to rip his head from his body?
I could do it too. And with a goddamn smile on my face.
“What happened?” I asked softly, tone completely at odds with the rage and jealousy coursing through me.
For long, seemingly interminable moments, Delia didn’t respond. She moved to the little side table where the five bottles sat. This time, she poured herself two fingers of the vodka, draining it quickly before refilling it. Then she moved back to the chair opposite me and sat, spine and shoulders curved inward.
“He was one of my professors at Northwestern.”
My blood chilled.
“You don’t owe me anything, Whiskey,” I said, reaching out my arm to circle my fingers around her right wrist. “But I’m here if you want to talk about it. I’m always here.”
I didn’t want to force her to talk about anything she didn’t want to, but the ice in my veins demanded answers.
She looked at me then, her eyes lined with silver and pain, cheeks pink with…embarrassment?
What the fuck did she have to be embarrassed about?
Get yourself in check, Lawless, I coaxed myself.Flying off the handle right now does no one any good.
“Accounting has never really been my strong suit,” she started, eyes darting around but always coming back to meet mine. “So I started taking advantage of his office hours early in the semester. I wanted to get a jump start on understanding the material so I wasn’t floundering when exam time came. At first, everything was normal. He was attentive, but not overtly so. He never touched me, his gaze never lingered, he never made any suggestive comments.
“Until the week before I turned twenty-two. I was gearing up for my birthday and Halloween, so that day, I’d tested out my costume makeup. Nothing crazy, but more than I typically wore. I was dressing up as a vampire, and I wanted to make sure I really nailed the smoky eye, you know?”
Being the man I was, I obviously had no idea, but I didn’t dare speak and interrupt her.
“Something in his entire demeanor shifted when I walked into his office that day. I still remember exactly what I was wearing. A red plaid skirt, one I’d worn probably ten times already thatsemester, and this gauzy white blouse with black tights, a red headband, and black flats. The whole thing was very Blair Waldorf.”
Okay, that reference I understood. I was in my teens whenGossip Girlfirst aired.
“And I just didn’t stop him when he leaned in to kiss me,” Delia continued, voice barely above a whisper. “He was…handsome. Not in the way you are, but softer. Prettier, in a way. And the fact that he was older and showingme, this lowly college junior, attention? I couldn’t help myself. It was so frowned upon, but so…hot. The stuff people write forbidden romances about. But we were never destined for a happy ending.”
“So how did it end?”
“The more time we spent together, the less like myself I felt,” she admitted. “Instead of doing normal college girl things, I was spending all my free time with him. And because he was my professor, that meant we holed up in his house, or took weekend trips to B&Bs in small towns where no one would recognize us. At first, it was so romantic. But…well, you know what they say about rose-colored glasses. I had mine practically glued to my face. Pretty much right around the time I told him I loved him, and he responded with, ‘Of course you do, my pet,’ I realized how stupid I’d been. All he wanted from me was sex and the thrill of fucking one of his students. So I broke it off. Thankfully, by then, the semester had ended so I never had to see him again unless we randomly bumped into each other on campus.
“It fucked me up, Owen,” she continued quietly. “And I’m still not sure I deserve to be happy because of it.”
