Page 10 of After Class

I managed to throw myself into catching up on my reading for the next several days. I took careful notes, highlighted passages and tagged pages, determined to get my head in the right place. If I was going to go into a lifetime of debt with student loans, I was going to at least make it worth my while with good grades.

I worked part time in the campus bookstore, so in between study sessions I spent the rest of my hours there. I was falling back in to a strange and unfamiliar normalcy with Ethan out of my life. I had gotten so used to spending my free time after working studying with him at his mom's house that I was uncertain at first what to do with those hours. I spent way more time than was really necessary compiling reading notes and making my notebooks look aesthetically appealing with multi-colored gel pens. I was slowly learning to be myself again.

Then, far sooner than I expected, I was waking up on Saturday. It didn't hit me at first, and then I remembered: today was the day. I was going to Adrian's house for dinner.

I spent most of the day in restless anxiety. I cleaned the entire house, threw out old food in the fridge, and even began raiding my closet and throwing out the worn out clothes I didn't wear anymore. My nervousness was suspended between two ideas: the first was my worry over actually having to sit down and have an intimate conversation with someone new. Adrian made me feel comfortable, open. But our engagement had never gone beyond the realm of tense flirting and dark sexual encounters. What if he wanted more than I was ready for? He was a little older than me, so what if he was one of those commitment-ready types who drew out timelines for their relationships and set deadlines on when they should be married by?

The other idea was less a worry and more a giddy, nervous excitement. I was going into Adrian's territory now, and after all his promises of what he would do to me "next time," I could hardly bear the wait. Especially after getting no release from him after that spanking in the classroom. I could get myself off, sure. But for the first time I had found a guy who could give me more pleasure than I could give myself. Thoughts of him kept me tensethroughout the day, until I managed to distract myself getting ready to leave.

My phone buzzed, a text from him.

Still on for tonight? Here's my address.

It was for an apartment on the other side of town, a nicer area located near yoga studies and juice bars. I threw on a dark violet dress, a slim leather choker and a pair of patent leather pumps. As a final, devilish touch, I made sure to wear the new black garter belt and thong I had sent him a picture of previously. My nerves were shaking me up even more as I went to the parking garage to fetch my car. This wasn't a big deal. It was only a big deal if Imadeit a big deal. It was just a nice, simple, ground-rule laying talk over dinner.

I texted him my arrival after I had parked. The apartment building he lived in was tall and modern, a nice combination of red brick and brushed steel. There were plenty of people meandering the streets on a Saturday night, popping in the various bars and cafes. Unlike downtown, the bars here attracted a slightly older, calmer crowd. There was an actual apartment lobby and a doorman who directed me to the elevators. I entered and pushed the button for the 9th floor.

My phone buzzed.

Let yourself in, the door is unlocked :) I'm just finishing up dinner.

He was actually cooking for me? My stomach growled and I realized that I hadn't eaten anything since early that morning when I had slurped down a single bowl of cereal. Stepping out of the elevator, I found his apartment at the very end of the hall. I checked my lipstick a final time, and with an irrational fear that I was about to barge into the wrong person's apartment, I opened the door.

The smell of something heavenly filled the air, spicy and savory. The entryway turned immediately to the right, leadingme by a slim decorative table topped with some odd silver art piece that looked like a ball of crunched metal.

"Hello? Adrian?"

"In here!" his voice echoed from just at the end of the hall. I peered around the corner, and found myself looking into an open style kitchen. Everything was sleek, modern, and compact, a relatively small space that Adrian seemed to have taken full advantage of. He was standing there over a sizzling pan of what look like creamy pasta. I smiled immediately. There was no more sure-fire way to make me happy than with carbs.

"I hope you like Scoglio," he said, with an easy smile. He wasn't wearing his glasses this time, so his dark eyes caught me even more intensely as they turned to me. He was dressed casually, in a black short-sleeved button-up with dark jeans. I couldn't help wondering if he was wearing his belt today. His hair was loose, giving him the appearance that he had just been running through wheat fields, or surfing on the California coast.

Wow, Cass,stop staring at the man and say something human.

"Smells great!" I said, squeaking in my eagerness. He chuckled as he took the pan off the burner and began to scoop the pasta and seafood goodness onto two plates. He had a small table just beyond the kitchen, at which point the dining area led to an open living room. All his furniture was varying tones of greys and dark blues, and it was peculiarly clean for a bachelor pad. There was a modestly-sized flat screen on the wall, so clearly this guy wasn't surviving off of mere student wages. Off to the right was a closed door, leading to what I assumed was the bedroom.

"I heard you like wine?" I turned, to see that Adrian had already set the table and was holding a wine bottle. He popped the cork and began to pour, the blood-red liquid filling our glasses. "I'll be honest, I know a lot more about whiskey thanI do about wine. But the woman at the store said this was a good one, so . . ." He shrugged, looking rather sheepish. It was fascinating to see him outside of his usual dominant state. Even so, just being near him was giving me pleasant little shivers.

"I hope your other classes have been a little less . . . unusual . . . than mine," he said as we ate. I was trying to eat slowly and not like a starving animal, but the food was delicious. I dabbed my mouth carefully with my napkin before answering. So much for my lipstick lasting long.

"No, I have to say your class is the only one I feel like I'll be getting extra credit for," I smiled slyly, happy to get a laugh out of him.

"Oh, I see how it is," he said. "I should have known, it's all just for the extra credit."

"A girl has to graduate somehow."

We both laughed easily. My anxiety had entirely dispersed, replaced with an overwhelming curiosity, a desire to hear him speak.

"Where did you learn to cook like this?" I said.

"Well, my mom is full-blooded Italian," he said. "And I mean straight-from-Italy Italian. She was in the kitchen every night cooking for us, so of course all the kids had to learn to cook."

"All the kids? How many of you are there?"

"I'm the second oldest," he said, taking a sip on his wine as if trying to remember exactly how many siblings he had. "My brother Damien is oldest. My sisters Elaina and Adrianna are youngest, they're twins."

"Damn, four kids," I said. "My parents just had us two, my brother and I."

He chuckled, "Yeah, family reunions are always fun, especially considering that the only one of us who still adheres to Catholicism is Adrianna. My poor mom just about had a heart attack when I told her I was an atheist." He shook his fingerand mimicked a high-pitched voice. "My son, you are going to straight to Hell! I will pray for you!" He shook his head. "And don't even get me started on how horrified she was that I was actually going to move out to go to school."

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