Page 25 of Learn Your Limits
“Yeah, and you looked more beautiful before you opened your damn mouth,” I tease. In a second, I’m standing up and holding her in a tight hug. She laughs against my shoulder, embracing me tightly.
I’ve hardly seen her since our all-staff meeting in September, in part due to my busier class load this semester, but also because any spare time I’ve had has been spent on Reid.
“I’ve missed you, Milo.” Retreating, Teresa rests her hands on my forearms and analyzes me with her gaze. She has a terrifying ability to look into someone’s eyes and empathize with them immediately. Slowly, her face changes with what she must read on my face. “You’re troubled.”
“Darling, I don’t even know where to start.”
My confession doesn’t take place at a church but rather over too many mimosas and sugary pastries with a friend who is unable to control her reactions. I prefer to expose my deviancy with even more debauchery, and who better to join me than the woman who admitted to her own scandal as well?
Telling Teresa about my situation with Reid was liberating. I tell her about the app—which I remind hershedownloaded to my phone—and how I met a young man named Cal. I hear my voice become wistful as I recall the weekend with loaded conversations and interactions before the semester started. Then I relive the horror of realizing Cal was actually Reid, and he’s one of my students. My confession comes to an end with my retelling of the encounter in my office last week, though I omit the more unsavory parts.
“As a colleague, I should say some bullshit about how this relationship of yours might be inappropriate, but I’d be ahypocrite for one, and two, Ilovehow you talk about him. I can see you care deeply for Reid and how he admires you. How could that be something wrong?”
I hate that I know she’s right. She is validating my feelings, and the already weakened state of my self-control is threatening to dissolve entirely.
“I feel like I’m drowning and I can’t breathe without him.” My words take me by surprise. Setting down my champagne flute, my eyes stay glued to the stem of the glass as I twirl it between my fingers. I feel too raw to look at my friend right now, but I know she is listening. “Teresa, I’ve never connected with or wanted anyone like this. What twisted string of fate would make my greatest desire so unreachable?”
“Seems like he’s within reach to me, Milo.” Ruby-red nails cover my phone screen as she pushes it toward me. Following her arm like a trail up to her eyes, I find encouragement and deep understanding within them. “Don’t give up on him or on yourself. Wait it out if your feelings are so profound.”
“They are. Terrifyingly so.”
Chapter twenty-one
Reid
I've been dreading this night all week. Things between Milo and I have been tense since whatever that was in his office, and I’m dying for things to go back to how they were between us. Even if it means continuing to only talk on the app and hiding what we are to each other, not that I’m even sure I know what that is.
I spent the entire week simply going through the motions. I get up, go to my classes, study, maybe chat with Milo, then go to bed. Our conversations are brief and nowhere near as intimate as they were before I ran out of his office, so sure that he was about to tell me that what we did was a mistake. As soon as I saw his message saying that he was sorry for taking advantage of me, but that he wasn’t sorry for what happened between us, I just about lost it.
Not when you looked and sounded so beautiful, Reid.
Those damn words have been playing on an endless loop in my mind since I read them. When I close my eyes, I can almost hear them in his smooth voice. Hearing him say my name, myrealname, during such a heated moment was better than I imagined.
I can’t get caught up in that memory, though.
Not tonight.
My father, Arthur, already called me this morning to remind me of his expectations for how my date should go. He has made it clear that he wants me to do what I can to sweep this girl, Avalon, off her feet. Little does he know, I have absolutely no intention of trying. But I also can't—won’t—be a total dick to the girl.
Except, now I'm sitting outside of her townhouse, stuck in my car, trying to talk myself into seeing this through. I'm not physically stuck, but I can't bring myself to get out. Betrayal settles in my stomach like lead, weighing me down and anchoring my body to the driver’s seat. I would give anything to be spending the evening talking to Milo, just like we did the first weekend we met, but I have to do this instead.
I inhale deeply before releasing a long, shaky breath, forcing myself to shove open the door and drag my legs out of the car and toward the front door. Each step feels like I’m wading through sludge, using more effort than should be necessary to get my body to comply.
The front door swings open before I have a chance to knock, and a shorter woman with dark hair and bright eyes stands with her arms crossed over her chest. “You’re late,” she chides.
I was actually here five minutes early but then spent nearly twenty minutes trying to convince myself to get out of the car and walk to her door. I realize that a date doesn’t automatically imply a relationship of any kind, and I know that nothing will happen between us tonight. Still, it feels like a betrayal to be standing here.
My head, my body, and if I’m being honest with myself, my heart, are already well on their way to belonging to someone else.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her, fighting to keep a hint of irritation out of my voice.
I should just tell her the truth. There’s really no reason not to. It’s not like I’m actually trying to impress her or build a relationship with her. All I need is for her to tell her dad that I was a very respectful date. If he thinks I was raised well and my parents are people he can trust, I’m sure he would still be willing to do business with my father. Even without her and I being anything more than friends, maybe it will lessen my father’s anger and disappointment.
“I got here a few minutes ago, actually. I was just sitting in my car.” Fuck, that sounded a bit harsh. Or did it make me sound like a nervous wreck? The last thing I need to be doing is pissing her off before we’ve made it off of her front porch, but I need to be honest. “I’ve been sorta dreading this all week,” I confess, slipping my hands into the pockets of my dark jeans.
Avalon’s eyebrows furrow slightly at my honesty as she leans against the doorframe, her arms crossing over her chest. “And what part of a date with me were you dreading?” she clips, her tone defensive.
“The part where I feel like I’m betraying someone else.” I shrug, offering her a slight smile. If the way she opened the door is any indication, she’s being forced into this just as much as I am.
