Page 27 of Master Debater

Easier said than done, but she was right, and I was working on it. The truth was, when I’d met Eric, I’d been at my lowest weight. Because I’d been so poor, busy, and stressed while completing the last year of my master’s program and working my part-time job, I’d rarely eaten.

While he’d conveyed his unhappiness over my not weighing the same now as I did when we got married, I never wanted to return to that ragged, unhealthy version of myself. It didn’t make me happy, and it wasn’t worth it. “Thanks for the reminder it’s okay to be the real me. If it wasn’t for you, my self-esteem would’ve shriveled into a gross raisin a long time ago.”

“Not the raisin discussion again. They’re good in oatmeal cookies.”

“No, chocolate chips are good, and you didn’t warn me what I was biting into until it was too late,” I said with a laugh. Turning to rest my butt against the desk, I smiled at the memories Leah and I had made in that tiny community center that forever smelled like the inside of a spice cupboard. “If it hadn’t been for you, I’m not sure I would’ve survived Sugar River as long as I did.”

“I’m not sure that’s a positive thing. I’ve wanted you to kick Eric to the curb for a while—stupid jerk never did appreciate you enough. Oh, and get this. He is struggling to keep up without you. He’s had to hire three people to fill the position you did alone. I miss you, but you carried that man and that business for far too long.”

Victory stirred but didn’t fully take hold. As easy as it’d be to cast Eric as the sole villain in the blame game, I was the one who’d accepted his treatment of me. Not that I—or anyone else, for that matter—deserved to be admonished for having feelings and requiring effort.

You just take a lot more work than you used to. That was the answer I’d received when I couldn’t get there in the bedroom, or after telling him I missed live music and suggesting we head into the city for a concert.

In answer to that last request, he’d taken me to the local restaurant where several townspeople stopped by to say hello, and one person asked for a free dental consultation over dinner—so romantic. I’d had a moment of clarity as he was paying more attention to a possible cavity than he’d paid to me all night: the man who’d showered me with affection while we were dating was gone, along with the guy who promised me I could follow my dreams after his practice was up and running.

As mad as I was at him over how things played out, I was equally as mad at myself for letting him chip away at me for so long—for acting as peacemaker in favor of fighting for what I wanted, and for waiting until he cheated on me to get out.

Never again.

“The real you is a total catch, and like I told you dozens of times, you deserve effort,” Leah continued. “You remember that. I’d be happy to come lecture this Nate guy about it too.”

“While I appreciate it, Nate and I are keeping things casual. I don’t want to jump into another relationship. His bed, on the other hand…”

We laughed, and Leah said, “Yeah, I’m going to need you to tell me more, and don’t skimp on the details. The fact that I’m happily married means I’ve been having sex with the same guy for ten years. We’re all for any inspiration that’ll help us spice things up in the bedroom.”

I’d always admired that about Leah and her husband. They kept working at their marriage. When I was ready for a relationship, I wanted one like theirs. One that involved compromising and making time for each other, while pouring so much love and affection back and forth that it spilled over and made everyone around them feel whole.

After Leah and I exchanged goodbyes, I answered a few emails and then began to gather up everything I needed to take home over the weekend.

Earlier, the halls had been bustling, with voices and movement and a flurry of energy. But just like when I’d been attending college here instead of instructing, Friday nights had a way of amplifying all traces of loneliness. It was one of the reasons that, back in the day, I’d committed most of mine to performing at a local bar. What could be better than guaranteed plans that included singing, dancing, drinking, and meeting people?

Back then, nothing. Right now… Nate’s image flashed to mind. I relived how tenderly he’d treated my wounds to how primitively he’d taken me in the bedroom and experienced a whorl of desire and a pang of rejection.

If it was as good for him as it was for me, wouldn’t he have come knocking again by now?

The rap of knuckles sounded against my open door, and I looked up. For a beat or two, I merely gaped, sure I’d conjured the man with disheveled dark hair, devastatingly brown eyes, and scruff that accentuated the pouty lips he used to conquer and destroy.

“Hey, neighbor.” His deep voice immediately infused me with joy. “Long time, no see.”

“Nate. Hi.” Was it normal to be jealous of clothing? Because his navy suit, pale blue shirt, and tie clung to him in the same way I longed to do. Shyness set in at the same time reality did. This man had seen me naked. He’d been buried deep inside of me; he knew what I sounded like when I came around the big cock barely hinted at behind the confines of his navy slacks. I swept my hair behind my ear and cleared my throat, doing my best to play it cool, despite it never in the history of ever working for me. “This is a surprise.”

“A pleasant one, I presume.”

“You would,” I teased, his cocky words chasing away my bashfulness for the bolder version of myself that came out to play whenever this fine specimen of a man was around. The quirk at the corner of his mouth turned me into a giddy fangirl, one that didn’t dare move, lest she tackled him to the ground and licked his face like an overly excited golden retriever. I couldn’t even promise there wouldn’t be leg-humping.

“Well, I did take certain measures to ensure it would be one.” With a flourish, he brought the arm partially hidden by the doorway forward, revealing a bouquet of purple roses. Butterflies swarmed my belly. “Congrats on your first week, Professor Trainor. Work’s been extra busy lately, but I snuck out early today so I could hunt you down on campus and ask you how it went.”

My hand trembled slightly as I reached for the extended bouquet. Nate didn’t release his hold, though. “Purple. For the color you were wearing the other night.” The suggestive smile that spread across his face conveyed he was replaying all the tawdry things we’d done together.

My cheeks heated, the memory of his hands gliding across the satin nightie, and then beneath it, causing a wave of desire that crested and crashed with the current moment. He remembered details like the color of my nightie; he’d brought me flowers. It’d been a long time since I’d felt so noticed.

I lifted the roses to my nose and sniffed, sighing at the floral deliciousness. “Thank you. As for the job, it’s seriously a dream come true. I get to do what I want again, and the students are so talented. I’ve almost pinched myself a dozen times to make sure it’s real.”

Nate lifted his hands in front of him. “Hey, now. I know that trick. You keep the pinching to yourself.”

“Hands to myself. Message received,” I said, and he arched an eyebrow. As hard as I tried to hold it back, my smile broke free, spreading over my face at the same speed warmth tumbled through me.

“There are other ways of checking to see if what you’re experiencing is real, you know.” He cupped my cheek. “Touches that are better than pinches.” He placed his thumb on the center of my lower lip and depressed the softness there, his eyes dilatating as my breath whooshed out of me in a rush.

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