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Authors: Brenna St. Clare

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BOOK: Perfecting the Odds
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And, just like that,
Eve was back.

***

As Saturday morning snailed into afternoon, Karis was seriously regretting not seeing Michael tonight. She missed him already and that both irritated and scared her. But she had to suppress her thoughts; otherwise, she would get no grading finished this weekend, thereby royally screwing up her week.

By
two o’clock, Karis sat at her kitchen table surrounded by over a hundred essays. Affording her peace and quiet to finish her grading quickly, Grace and Robby asked to spend the afternoon with Jason and Diane Lewis’ children, Brian and Ally. They had become close friends over the past three years.

So there
Karis sat. Alone. With only her thoughts, a hyperawareness of who wasn’t there with her, and a crap load of grading to finish by Monday morning.

Having
soon bled red pen all over fifteen essays, Karis was becoming increasingly distracted. Just like he’d done over the last few years, Michael invaded her thoughts with an onslaught of fantasies and I-think-I’d-like-to-try-thats. Now she had the damn real-life action, making any fantasies she conjured, well, probable. That, of course, was making her incredibly horny. She gulped a bottle of
very
cold water and managed to pummel through ten more essays before standing to knead her aching back and neck. Inadvertently, her eyes wandered to that wall in the living room and along the counters as she dangerously replayed their hands-and-mouth cavorting last night
. A cold shower
, she thought, is exactly what she needed and headed upstairs.

Walking
back into the kitchen fifteen minutes later, she found herself pacing aimlessly, avoiding the stack of essays until she had to retrieve her children. The doorbell stunted her out of her circuitous wandering.  The teenage delivery boy shoved a beautiful bouquet of brightly-hued red and orange gerbera daisies at her. She thanked him and walked into her kitchen, placing the gorgeous bouquet on the counter. She stared at it for at least two solid minutes, stunned and breathing in the deliciously sweet aroma of her favorite flower.

Finally, s
he tugged the card from its flower pick. She noticed his handwriting first. The cursive slanted impeccably, the lettering plainly masculine. She rolled her eyes. God, she had it bad.

My
darling Karis,

If
next Saturday is half as lovely as last evening, then it will be exceptional. I missed you the moment my lips left yours.

“Be not the slave of your own past--plunge into the sublime seas, dive deep, and swim far, so you shall come back with new self-respect, with new power, and with an advanced experience that shall explain and overloo
k the old.”

― Ralph Waldo Emerson

Yours always,

Michael

 

And, again, Michael threw her heart into a tailspin. She clutched the note to her chest and sighed. He made her feel like a love-sick teenager, and she was
quickly becoming addicted to everything that made Michael, Michael.

 

Chapter 22
 

 

            
 
Karis’s cellphone woke her early on Sunday morning, her
only
day to really sleep in. “Who the hell,” she muttered, fumbling for her phone on the night stand.
New Text Message.
She flipped open her phone—yes, flipped. She was still behind the times.

Good morning, sexy.

Karis: Who is this?

Michael: The only man who should be calling you sexy.
I’m shocked and appalled.

Karis
: Well, I have two other beaus. How did you get my number?

M
ichael: I stole your phone and programmed it into mine on Friday night, and by the way, no one says beaus anymore. It’s antiquated and weird.

Karis
: Stalk much? And shut it. You’re not one of the new-age English professors who believes language is a living thing…totally acceptant of its evolution no matter how ungrammatical, are you?  I have to say, despite your adept hands and mouth, that trait would be a deal breaker for me. It’s been real, my Adonis/Apollo.

M
ichael: Everyone should open THEIR eyes and accept change. And I would love to stalk that ass right about now.

Karis
: Endearing and as eloquent as ever, Professor Finn. Everyone is out of HIS OR HER damn mind. What do you want?

M
ichael: You, here. Now.

Karis
: Details…and not the kinky kind.

Michael:
That’s the only kind I know.

Karis
: Do you plan to Sext me all morning, or is there a point to this witty banter? Michael: I miss you, t’is all. And I would much prefer phone sex, at least I get to hear all the little sounds you make.

Karis
chose to ignore that one.

Karis
: Thank you for the flowers. How did you know they were my favorite?

M
ichael: You’re welcome, sweetheart. Eve. I stole her number from your phone as well.

Karis
: S.t.a.l.k.e.r. But you’re sexy as sin, so the whole idea of you as a voyeur/peeping Tom kinda turns me on. You’re forgiven. I love the flowers. They’re beautiful.

M
ichael: What else turns you on?
Karis: Sleeping. What the hell are you doing awake so early?

M
ichael: Can’t sleep…excited for next weekend.

Karis
: What are you, eighteen?

M
ichael: You’ll be happy to know my stamina is that of an eighteen year old.

Karis
: We’ll see. I’m sure you’ll figure out a way to take care of “business” before Saturday.

M
ichael: Tried it. Not working. I would rather cash in on your hands or mouth deal. And don’t forget Wednesday, despite the lack of a truck bed.

Karis
: LOL. And how could I forget our ice cream date. I’m going now before this gets out of hand. Forgive the pun
.

M
ichael: Talk to you later, beautiful.

Karis
: Have a mind-blowing day, Michael. XO

 

Karis flopped back in bed, grinning like a fool and mumbling something about relentlessness.

***

On Monday after work, Michael sat in the stitched leather booth at Schaffer’s pub. The smoke-free air and subtle smell of pine and lemon placed the bar head and shoulders over the Down Under Tavern. Young couples and businessmen lined the bar, and the soft jazz music provided calm undertones to the bubbling conversations. He stared at his phone as he waited for Scott to arrive. Michael had run through Karis’s texts at least twice since Sunday. Friday evening had been mind-blowing. She was so goddamn sweet…the taste of her mouth, the softness of her skin, her silky tongue, and damn, that treasure between her legs had him perpetually hard as a rock-- nothing relieved the ache. Karis was the cure, and now he was trying to fill his time just so Saturday would arrive faster. And despite how chaste Karis wanted Wednesday’s date to be, there was no way in hell he would last the entire night without kissing her. He’d find a way, and knowing how she melted in his arms, she’d let him.

At first
, he declined Scott’s offer to meet him for drinks. Scott would want to know details about his relationship with Karis. And, yes, Scott was a bit too bachelor at times, but he had that detective-type inquisition. Without a doubt, he would ask questions Michael wasn’t ready to answer, not while he was still riding the high of his lifetime.

Michael looked up just as Scott
walked through the door of the bar. Michael stood. “Hey, McCann,” he said, shaking his best friend’s hand before sitting back down.

Scott scooted into the booth across from him, putting
his index finger above his head to beckon the waitress. “So, Finn, what’s new in Professor land?” Unlike other friends in Michael’s life, Scott was genuinely interested. Michael ran down the latest progress on his criticism and how his semester was unfolding while McCann asked questions. Stopping only to give their order to the waitress, Scott then discussed his current case, divulging cryptic details so as not to comprise the investigation. Shop talk out of the way, there was one topic that remained: Scott’s favorite.

“Dating anyone, Finn,” Scott asked, his
eyebrows lifted as he sipped his beer.

“Yes, actually I am.”

“Longer than two
days?”

Michael nodded his response to avoid a snarky retort.

“Wow, I’m impressed, man.”

“This coming from the guy who brings home a different girl every
other night,” Michael derided.

Scott laughed. “
Not so much lately. Busy. So, give me the details. What’s her name, age, breast size, yadda, yadda?”

Michael debated not making the connection for Scott, but he had talked about
Karis with him a few times after that May night, and more than a few times since Halloween. “Karis,” he said casually before sipping his beer.

Scott choked on his mouthful of beer
. “
The
Karis. Shit, Finn, I thought she walked out on you.”

“She did. Then we crossed paths again at her school. She’s an English teacher. She had a career day
last week. Lewis asked if I would fill in for him, so I did. We had dinner on Friday. As simple as that.”

Scott
tilted his head. “Huh.”

Shit
. Michael knew that look. Let the inquisition begin.

“What,
” Michael demanded.

“From what I remember, there was nothing
simple about the way you talked about her, after both nights. Didn’t her husband die of cancer?” This time Michael choked on his swig of beer. Fucking detective. “I’m kind of shocked she agreed to date you, considering your whole cancer incident. It probably hit her pretty hard to learn about yours.”

“Going right for the kill shot, huh, you fucker?”
Michael tried to temper his anger, but he really wasn’t in the mood to delve this deeply, especially considering Karis had just agreed to another date.

Scott lifted one brow. “
Well,” he drawled. “guess that means you haven’t told her.”

“Why would I? I’m free and clear
...for more than ten years now,” Michael said, leaning back in the booth, trying his best to look and sound convincing, knowing full well Scott wouldn’t buy it.

Scott studied Michael’s face for a moment, then his eyes widened. “You
love her don’t you?” Michael nodded. There was no use denying it.

“You
need to tell her the truth, and you fucking know it.”

Michael shook his head rapidly. “No way...
I just found out she lost her parents when she was eleven… then her husband. I can’t put my past on her too.”


Her parents, too.” McCann paused, contemplating his next comment. “You’re lying to her if you don’t tell her.”

Michael slammed down his beer. “Like you’re a fucking saint, McCann? All you do is fuck over women, literally and figuratively.”

Unaffected by his anger, Scott threw him a “so what” glare. “Yeah, but I don’t lie. Women know up front what I’m about. You’re lying to Karis. And I’m telling you as your friend, it’s gonna bite you in your ass, and that shit won’t heal.”


You finished?”

“Yeah, I’m finished.” Scott shot Michael an arrogant smirk. “So, she’s pretty hot. Is she any good in the sack?”

It took everything last bit of Michael’s restraint not to climb across the table and beat the shit out of his best friend. “That’s none of your fucking business, McCann. Is nothing sacred to you?” Michael shook his head in disgust, prompting Scott’s snort.

“If you are asking if I view sex as a religion, then yes, a good fuck is sacred.”

Michael allowed his grin. “You’re unbelievable.”

“So I’ve heard,
” Scott quipped.

***

Monday passed for Karis surprisingly quickly. It was crunch time in the high school world. Holiday breaks threatened to ruin solid instruction, kids requested college recommendations left and right, and it was SAT time for many juniors. By Tuesday and a few witty yet endearing texts later, she missed Michael terribly. So she decided she was in much need for some girl time. She texted Eve and decided to meet right after school for happy hour.

They met outside of
a local eatery, linked arms, and made their way inside and straight to the bar. Being three o’clock, the place was dead.  After ordering two margaritas at the bar, Eve walked back to their hi-top table and started her interrogation.

“So, what’s up,
Karis? I know something is bothering you. You never go to happy hour during the school year.”

BOOK: Perfecting the Odds
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