Page 32 of Make Me Yours
My eyes flicked to his. “No, you were right to help. It was just… hard. Being at that scene brought up feelings I never want to experience again.”
He nodded, and pulled me in for a hug. I let my body mold to his, my arms hanging limply at my sides.
Cohen finished adding my clothes to the washer, added some soap and then steered me back to the couch. “Get some rest, babe. I’ll call later to check on you.”
When he walked away, my brain knew putting some distance between us was the right thing to do, but my body instantly ached for his warmth. I curled onto my side, dragging the throw blanket over me and fell into a restless sleep.
When Cohen called later and woke me up, I didn’t answer my phone. And when he followed it up with a text to see if I was coming up to stay the night, I responded with an excuse about wanting to stick around for my cats. Not that they even noticed if I was there. As long as food appeared in their bowls, and the sun continued to provide warm spots for them to lounge in, they were content.
Several days passed and I did my best to avoid seeing Cohen. I’d seen him out for an early morning run with Bob a few times, where we’d waved hello, but not spoken. He’d texted me late one night, just a brief line to ask how I was, but it went unanswered and he didn’t text again. I don’t know if I expected him to put in more effort, but I couldn’t help the surprise I felt at how easily and quickly he’d slipped from my life.
And then last Sunday, when I was out for a run, I’d seen him with that mousy church girl Maggie. They were walking back from the diner on the corner. He’d met my eyes and smiled, and when he did, I felt a pang of jealousy stab at my chest.
It was strange how protective I was over his virginity. I wasn’t prepared to take it myself, but it made me furious to think of any other woman doing the job instead. I’d stormed inside the house and forced my drapes closed.
Chapter 12
Several more days passed by before I saw Cohen again. The accident and the woman’s death continued to weigh heavily on my mind, and I still barely slept at night. But I didn’t allow myself to go to Cohen’s bed like I wanted to. I knew I needed to stay strong. Seeing the horrific scene at the accident had slapped some much needed sense into me, and reminded me of the need to distance myself from the pain of losing someone. I couldn’t go through that again. I wouldn’t survive it for a second time.
So instead I focused on getting through each day. Class…studying…feeding my cats…trying to make myself eat something…and then falling into a restless sleep alone in my bed. But my thoughts betrayed me and constantly drifted to Cohen. His soft kisses, his silly nicknames, and even that damn dog Bob.
That was why when Stu called me, I had no reason to say no and was hoping that clocking some action between the sheets would force Cohen from my mind once and for all. But of course, that hadn’t been the case. I hadn’t been able to go through with it, worrying about if Cohen was home to hear us. At least that’s what I told myself, I didn’t want to think that my feelings for Cohen were what was really effecting my decision.
Twenty minutes later, I walked out a very unsatisfied Stu, anxious to get rid of him.
Stu clicked the keyless entry for his car, flashing the lights on his Lexus just as Cohen came walking up. I wasn’t sure where he’d been, as he was coming from the opposite direction of campus, but I reminded myself that his comings and goings weren’t supposed to be my business. His eyes fell on me first, his flirty smile kicking up a notch, but when he noticed Stu—aka Professor Gibson—standing on my porch, his smirk faltered and he looked from us to the house as if he was working out in his mind what had just happened in there.
Shit. My stomach twisted into a knot. Why did I feel so bad? I wanted to blurt out that nothing had happened, that he was jumping to conclusions, but I pressed my lips together. I could have whomever I wanted over at my house, for whatever reason. Right?
I wondered if he’d storm past us to his apartment, but he surprised me by fixing a smile on his face and stopping to say hello. “Professor.” He nodded to Stu.
Stu straightened his jacket and offered his hand.God, could he be any more awkward?
Observing Cohen next to Stu made for a ridiculous comparison. Cohen looked young and relaxed in dark-washed jeans that fit low on his hips, a soft, worn T-shirt that hugged his biceps and a rugged pair of vintage-style navy-blue tennis shoes. He was fucking hot, in a casual and understated way. He wasn’t trying, he was just delicious, like the sexy boy-next-door. Whereas Stu, well…he was Stu. He gave off a distinct dad vibe that signaled his divorced status and professional job. He was someone I wasn’t even remotely at risk of falling for. Which had been part of the whole attraction in the beginning, but now I knew that that was wrong.
I couldn’t help but continue to draw a comparison between fun-loving, playful Cohen and buttoned-up, tassel-loafered Stu. Stu’s down-to-business approach to sex hadn’t bothered me before, but I realized Cohen made me want something more. That giddy, butterfly feeling that I hadn’t allowed myself to feel in so long, I thought I’d forgotten how.
I smiled, knowing I hadn’t completely lost it. I thought I’d lost it all when Paul died, but maybe I hadn’t. That thought both comforted and terrified me.
But I reminded myself that Stu was safe. Boring, practical and lackluster in bed, but safe. End of story. If it was possible, that thought made me feel worse.
Stu was saying something to Cohen about the midterm, but Cohen looked unconcerned and bored by the whole interaction.
“All right, I guess I’m off. Eliza.” Cohen tipped his head to me.
I dared a look in his direction, just as he passed by me. Anger, sadness, and…something else…was reflected in his eyes. It was that spark, that flame…whatever it was that burned between us.
I swallowed and said goodbye to Stu. That was the other good thing about his visits—no goodbye kiss was needed. I headed back inside, feeling worse than I did before Stu’s visit, which had been designed to relieve tension, not cause it.
Chapter 13
I walked home from campus on Friday evening, thankful that the weekend had finally arrived. I had nothing on the agenda but spending some quality time with my couch, bundled up in my comfy pjs with a nice glass of wine. I hoisted my bag up higher on my aching shoulder and mentally reminded myself I was overdue for a massage. And would need another waxing appointment soon. Not that anyone would notice right now. I obviously hadn’t seen Cohen and since that awkward night I’d let all of Stu’s calls go unanswered.
When I reached the front walk, I couldn’t keep myself from glancing up at Cohen’s window. His apartment was dark. He was probably out tonight, doing whatever it was undergrads did on a Friday night.
I let myself inside, tossed my bag onto the bench beside my door and collapsed face down on my sofa.
I was somewhere in between sleep and wakefulness when I heard my phone ringing from inside my bag.
