Addy And The Smart Guy (Big Girl Panties #3) (10 page)

"The fuck are you calling me that for?" he asked in a raspy, morning voice.

"It's our last day. We said we would get back into the practice of speaking formally on our last day."

"Sounds like fun. You dress up like Ms. Hart, I'll dress up like Dr. McDaniel, and you can seduce me." He nuzzled up to her, burying his face between her breasts. She ran her fingers through his hair and stared up at the ceiling.

"We have to pack today," she said, her voice low and distant.

"I know, sweetheart. But not right now." His hand came up and rested on one of her breasts. She thought she could stay like this forever. She thought that this one moment, holding him against her like this, would be the memory she clung to.

"What should we do?" she whispered.

He didn't answer at first, instead turning his lips to her other breast and gently taking it into his mouth, laving it with his tongue. It was erotic, in a lazy sort of way. There was no urgency. No need to have each other right then. Instead, this simple act was pleasurable enough for them both.
 

At last, he leveraged up onto his elbow and stroked her hair. "I know it's warm outside, but what I'd really like to do is build a fire in the fireplace, stay in our pajamas, and just…be together. Maybe do a crossword puzzle together. Read poetry. Just hold each other. That's what I'd like to do on our last day, Ms. Hart."

"Oh, no," she whispered.

His smile swiftly turned to a frown. "What? What is it?"

"I don't think I can ever hear you call me Ms. Hart again without blushing."

He smiled again and kissed her cheek and jaw and ear. "Ms. Hart, you're driving me wild with those big, innocent eyes of yours."

She giggled as he nibbled at her neck, sending shivers down her body. "Grey, don't," she objected, but not even half-heartedly.

He chuckled against her shoulder. "That's not my name. Today, my name's Dr. McDaniel. Say my name and tell me what you want me to do to you."

She gasped and giggled as he nipped. "Oh, Dr. McDaniel, won't you whisper dirty things in my ear while you use your hand on me?"

He hovered his lips near her ear and drove her into a frenzy before massaging her into a climax. She clung to him knowing they'd taken their little game too far. Those names—Ms. Hart and Dr. McDaniel—were their masks. Now, she wasn't sure she'd be able to keep the truth out of her eyes whenever he spoke her name.

He rolled to his back pulling her on top of him. Then he simply held her and trailed his fingers up and down her spine.

Later they rose and made breakfast together. They cuddled, in various positions, in front of the fireplace. They read together and conversed on some of their favorite topics. They took a long soak in the Whirlpool tub, then went to bed early so that they could lie in each other's arms for as long as possible.
 

The next morning she sat on the edge of the neatly made bed, her suitcase packed on the floor at her side. She was dressed in her usual pencil skirt and blouse with her hair pulled back in a barrette and her glasses pushed up her nose.
 

Grey was still wandering about, finding little odds and ends he'd left lying around. Addy was focused on keeping her mind and heart blank.
 

At last, he perched next to her, his hand on her back. He was dressed in his professorly blazer and slacks. "Let's say goodbye, here," he said. "Now."

She stared ahead, unable even to sit with good posture. "Goodbye," she said, though her voice came out mostly air.

"Addison, you can't mope like this—"

"I won't. Just today, is all. I'll sleep tonight in my own bed, and I'll come to school looking like nothing ever happened. Right now, I just have to focus all my energy on not crying."

"Baby, I know this is hard for you."

She barked a laugh. "Don't offer me sympathy, Grey. I'm a big girl, I can handle my own feelings." She stood, extending the handle on her suitcase so she could roll it out of the house.
 

Grey stood, too, but only to reach out and stop her. He held her arm and pulled her toward him. "This is hard for me, too."

"Oh, really? You're taking it extremely well."
 

"If you'd just give me a chance, I'll tell you how much this week meant to me. How much you've meant to me."

She finally lifted her eyes to his. She traced his lightly stubbled jaw with her fingertips. "It's enough to know it meant something."

"Addison, it meant everything. I'll never feel this way about someone again, I know I won't. And maybe someday—"

"Don't. I meant what I said. I'm not waiting anymore."

"I wouldn't ask you to, not at all. I won't wait either. But maybe…someday…." He trailed off.

Addison watched him frowning in thought. "In this mythical 'someday,' would we marry?"

He laughed. "Addison, you know how I feel about marriage."

"Yes, but do you know how I feel about it?"

His frown returned.

"I want it. Marriage. House in the suburbs. Children. You wouldn't know it to look at me, I'm sure, but I want to be a mother. I'm independent, and I love this career path I'm on, but if I ever met someone I could build a life with, I'd be more than happy to shift my priorities."

Grey swallowed, actually looking nervous for the first time since the day he'd put those plane tickets in her hands. "You couldn't…couldn't see yourself having that life with me, I'm sure."

It sounded like a statement, but she knew it was a question. She decided not to answer. "You're not a 'love' kind of person," she said, instead, using his own words.

His eyes darted back and forth between hers. The furrow between his brows deepened. At last, he nodded. "Yeah, that's true, Addison. It doesn't mean I don't care for you very much."

"That's fine. But I love you, Grey."

His face blanched, and he took a step back. Exactly the reaction Addy had expected, which did little to assuage her grief. She took a breath and said, "I've been in love with you for three years now. You can tell yourself that love doesn't last or that there's no such thing as love, but you only say that because you don't feel for me what I feel for you. There's no other word to describe my thoughts, feelings, and wants surrounding you, but love. It's more than the attraction, the sex, the conversation, the fun…it's this desire, this need, to give myself to you. To do for you, care for you, be…just
be
…with you. Maybe in the future you'll know what that feels like, but for myself, right now, my heart is breaking. So don't tease me with 'maybe someday,' and don't offer me sympathy when you refuse to believe that what I'm going through is real."

He stared at her. It was with great effort that she maintained eye contact. His eyes were wide, his expression more conflicted than she'd ever seen it. It was foolish of her, but she hoped he might be in love with her. Beyond that, she hoped he might say the words, in this, their last moment together as Addy and Grey, before going back to the world of Ms. Hart and Dr. McDaniel.

He opened his mouth, hesitated, and said, "Addison."

His tone was enough to dash her hopes. Her new hope was that she kept her disappointment from showing. She turned back to her suitcase. "It's okay," she said. "This week was amazing. Thank you. I'll never forget it."

She walked away, and he didn't stop her.
 

CHAPTER ELEVEN

They didn't touch on the plane ride home. They didn't so much as hold hands. He wanted to, but after the things she'd said, he knew it would only cause her pain. So he satisfied himself with stolen glances her direction. As far as he could tell, she never once looked at him. Not even when the plane landed and they stood to disembark. She grabbed her carry-on and walked off the plane.
 

At baggage claim, he pulled her suitcase off the carousel. She clicked up the handle and began walking away.

"Addison," he called, because he couldn't help it. Because he needed their goodbye to be better than it had been. He didn't want this to end on a sorrowful note. He'd envisioned hugs and smiles and a mutual understanding that they'd just created some of the best memories of their lives. It should have been bittersweet, not bitter.

She didn't stop. She kept walking, without looking back, until she disappeared into the crowds. Grey's heart sank a little further.
 

She was wrong. There was no such thing as love. Only temporary bursts of hormonal reactions. Her feelings would end. Man was never suited for monogamy. He could cite plenty of research if she'd just open her mind.
 

But no, it was best this way. She was right about dealing with her own feelings. Those weren't his responsibility.
 

He took his suitcase and went home to his one-bedroom apartment a few blocks from the school. The building was old, red brick, but had been renovated. The apartments had been modernized and were sleek and functional, if a little small. He'd furnished his place with a leather sofa and matching armchair. His kitchen was too small for a whole table, so there was a small, two person table pushed against one wall. Beyond that was the bathroom and his bedroom.
 

He unloaded his suitcase and sorted his clothes. Then he took a load to his small, apartment-sized washer. As he was cramming the clothes in, he wrapped his hand around one of his t-shirts, a worn, gray college shirt he'd had for years and liked to sleep in. Addison had worn it a couple of nights. When he lifted it to his face, it smelled like her.
 

He should have washed it straight away, but instead, indulged in what he considered to be a ridiculous sentiment, and stripped out of his shirt to put on the t-shirt. This wasn't love. This was a Pavlovian response to scent. Her scent was arousing to him because he'd experienced it in conjunction with sex. This would pass. Not tonight, though. Tonight he would wear the shirt, lay on his bed, and ache for her.

His cell phone rang. He hurried back to his bedroom to the docking station where he'd left it. The word "Mom" flashed on the screen.

He picked up the phone and swiped it on. "Mom," he said, "I'm surprised I haven't heard from you sooner. Calling to berate me for disappearing for a week?"

Silence. Then, "Who the hell is this?"

It was Grey's turn to be stunned into silence. He didn't know who this particular "mom" was but she wasn't his. His mom certainly had a superior and frightening tone to her voice, but this woman had taken it to another level. "This is Greyson McDaniel," he said. "I believe you have the wrong number."

"I most certainly do not. I'm calling to speak to my daughter, Addison. Explain to me immediately why you have her phone."

Grey's head spun. No way this was happening. They'd had a discreet affair far from their homes and families. No way within an hour of arriving home were they going to get caught. He searched his mind for a lie. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Hart, our phones must have gotten switched in my office last week."

"Addison had her phone with her as of two days ago. She texted me with it. Why would she have switched phones with you since then?"

"Perhaps it was this morning," he said, squeezing his eyes shut and praying hard for a lie that would work out. "I met her in the office, briefly, to discuss the 101 class she's teaching for me. She submitted the mid-term grades to me. I imagine she grabbed the wrong phone on her way out."

A brief silence. "I see," the woman said, though it sounded as though she didn't see at all. "I assume you'll return her phone when you see her tomorrow?"

"Of course, Mrs. Hart."

"Dr. McDaniel, are you having an affair with my daughter?"

Panic lodged in his throat. He gulped it down, trying unsuccessfully to keep his voice and breathing even. "Mrs. Hart, I've never been accused of behaving unethically toward my students, and I resent your question. I have the greatest respect for Addison. We share a desk, and our phones are always out and in use. This was a simple mix-up, nothing more." There. That sounded good, right?

"I'm glad to hear it. See to it she has her phone in the morning and kindly tell her I would like to hear from her. She was supposed to arrive home from Paris today, but it sounds like she made it in last night. Since she met with you this morning, that is."

"I'll let her know," he said, ignoring the doubt and innuendo in the woman's words. They hung up and Grey fell back on his bed and closed his eyes.
 

Addy grabbed a blanket, a tub of ice cream, and a DVD of
The African Queen.
She'd just pushed play when her phone rang. Her eyes glued to the television, she reached to the end table and fumbled for the phone. She swiped it on, dropped it, picked it up and pressed it to her ear. Her mouth was open to say hello when a woman's voice spoke.

"Mmm, you haven't called me all week. I hope you're in the mood to do some catching up, Grey. I need your mouth on me, now. When can I come over?"

Addison nearly choked on air. "I…I'm so sorry, I think you've got the wrong number."

"What?" The woman's low, seductive tone abruptly switched to high-pitched and angry. "Who the hell is this?"

"Who the hell is this?" Addison spat back. "You've got the wrong number, I said."

"I do not have the wrong number. I dialed this from speed dial. Why do you have Greyson's phone?"

"I don't have…." She stopped and held the phone in front of her. She checked the screen and realized the truth. "Okay," she said into the phone, "I do have Greyson's—I mean Dr. McDaniel's phone. I'm so sorry, I'm not sure how this happened."

"I can tell you how it happened. You fucked him, and while you were gathering up your things to slink away like the whore that you are, you took his phone instead of yours."

"How dare you!"

"No, how dare you! I demand to know who you are—"

"Demand all you want, but I don't owe you any explanation. The truth is perfectly innocent, but you've already passed judgment on me, so fuck you." She hung up and dropped the phone on the coffee table.
 

She was shaking with rage, humiliation, and something else. Fear. What if this sunk them? What if all the trouble they'd gone to to hide their feelings over the past three years was pointless because of a stupid phone mix-up.