Page 35 of Kismet

Cash and I stayed at the fields until the sun came up. I dropped him off at the frat house just before seven in the morning. After we had sex, we laid on the blanket, wrapped up in each other, watching the stars, and talking about any and everything.

I learned his birthday is in December—it just passed, and I can’t help but wonder what it would be like to celebrate with him. We also talked about his dreams of being an English professor—which I already knew—and a published author, and he wants to own a hairless cat one day. I told him about how I got into riding my motorcycle, sports I played in high school, my sister, how she moved to Lubbock, Texas when our parents died—he didn’t ask about that, but I can tell he wants to… and eventually I’ll have to tell him, but not yet. We slept for a few hours, only waking up to the sound of the roosters a few houses down.

Aida wasn’t awake yet when I got home. I changed and went for a three-mile run, before coming back home and showering. She didn’t even notice I was gone last night. I spent the late morning into early afternoon grading papers before passing out on the couch in my office. I woke up a little bit ago, all thoughts on Cash and last night. It was perfect.

The connection we have, the way we are so similar in ways that matter, the insane amount of sexual chemistry we have. When I couldn’t get my mind to be quiet last night and decided to go for a drive, I’d like to say I didn’t plan to go to his house, but deep down I knew he was where I’d end up. I’m glad I did. Grabbing my phone off the table in front of me, I open our text exchange, typing out a message to him.

Me: Half-dead today. How about you?

It takes him about fifteen minutes to respond, but eventually, my phone pings with an unread text message.

Cash: SAME. The frat had a fundraising event today. I’m a dead man walking.

Me: Damn, I’m sorry. Should’ve told me. I wouldn’t have kept you out so late.

Cash: No, don’t be sorry. I had a lot of fun with you.

Me: I did too. Enough that I want to do it again tonight…

Cash: Yeah?

Me: Yeah. You down?

Cash: Hell yeah. What time?

Me: I can pick you up around eleven? Is that okay?

Cash: Yup. See you then, teach.

Me: See ya later, Bambi. ;)

“Why are you smiling at your phone like an idiot?”

I’m startled by Aida’s voice, head snapping up to meet her cold, narrowing gaze. “My professor aide. We were discussing some papers we have to grade.”

“Wow. You look more excited to speak to your student than your wife.”

“You act like you’re ever excited to see me, Aida. You can’t even stand to be in the same room with me for more than a few minutes.”

“Whatever, Stone. I’m going out. I’ll be back later.”

“Where are you going?”

“Out. With friends. We’re going out to dinner and a movie.”

“Have fun. Drive safe.”

She waves her hand dismissively as she heads out of the room. She’s been much more angry than usual lately. I can’t pinpoint what it is, but her patience with me is nonexistent.A part of me wonders if she may know what’s going on, or at least suspect it. It would explain the anger. Another large part of me, though, doesn’t care at this point if she finds out. Our marriage is basically over, and I’m just trying to find the right time to tell her how I feel.

I decide to go to our home gym and do some lifting to kill some time. Hooking my phone up to the gym’s surround sound, I press play on my Spotify playlist, and get started.

About a half hour into my routine, a song comes on that has me pulling out my phone to shoot a quick text off.

Me: “Here with you” by Sick Puppies. If you haven’t heard it, listen to it.

Okay, that may have been corny as fuck, but screw it. His face popped into my mind when the lyrics started. Resuming my workout, I go hard for about another forty-five minutes, sweating bullets by the time I’m done. When I’m finished, I wipe everything off, then swipe my phone off the mat, pleased to see I have a response.

Cash: I know that song and love it.

---