Language of Love Read online

  “Of course not,” he said and pulled his phone from his pocket, opening the calendar app.

  Of course not? Hmm, that was a far cry from his ‘I don’t do private tutoring’ line from last week, I thought, reaching for my own cell.

  “How’s Monday evening work for you?” he asked. “If you promise to get some sleep over the weekend.”

  “Oh I fully intend to sleep most of Sunday,” I said with a laugh, “and Monday works for me. Same time at The Coffee Bean?”

  “Sounds good.” He slipped his phone into his back pocket and shouldered his bag. “I must be off however, papers to grade and lives to ruin.”

  I giggled like a teenager and then quickly redirected my attention to my phone so as not to make eye contact. The joke wasn’t even that funny, I internally berated myself.

  “See you,” I said directly to my phone screen and waited until his footsteps had moved a few feet away to look up again. The door closed behind him, and raucous laughter exploded from behind me. I whipped my head around and there was Lauren, doubled over and clutching her stomach.

  “Oh girl, you got it bad,” she said in between gasps.

  “Shut up! I know, it’s awful,” I replied as we made our way through the now empty lecture hall.

  * * *

  I pushed the door of The Coffee Bean open with a shoulder, juggling my backpack, purse and laptop bag in my arms as well as my travel mug. Some kind stranger on the other side grabbed it halfway through my struggle and held it for me.

  “Thanks!” I said, smiling brightly. I was deliberately 30 minutes early so I could avoid the name confusion from last week, and be safely seated and organized before Julian arrived. I knew I’d feel better if my raging hormones were restrained by a table between us.

  I ordered my frappe—probably my last one of the year as the temperature continued to drop steadily—and waited patiently at the end of the counter. Every ding of the door had me whipping my head around to see if it was him, my heart beating much too fast and fluttering with nerves.

  The barista called out my name and I did an internal dance of pleasure at having successfully gotten my drink and myself out of the line up before he arrived. Sliding into the booth I had the passing thought that this was the same booth we sat in last time. Our booth.

  No! Max stop, we are not doing this. I refuse to crush on my incredibly hot, smart, older man with the amazing voice professor. It’s not happening.

  The doorbell went off again, and this time when I looked it was just in time to see Julian step inside. I sucked in my breath at the sight of him. His casual attire was so different than the suits he usually wore for class. I wondered if he hadn’t had classes that day. Somehow, he was even hotter in just jeans and a sweater.

  His eyes scanned the room and he smiled when they landed on me. I grinned and waved to him before catching myself and quickly turned back around in my seat, mortified. What the hell is wrong with me?! I tried to compose myself but kept stealing glances at his back as he stood in line until I heard the barista call his name. I had my notebook out and open to the last page we had been on the previous week by the time he sat down across from me.

  “Did you get some sleep this weekend?” he asked, and it took me a moment to realize he was referring to my having fallen asleep in his class last week.

  “Yes, I did, thank you for asking,” I replied, flashing him a cheeky grin.

  “Where did we leave off last week?” he asked, gesturing with his cup to my open notebook. He took a small sip of his coffee and my eyes were drawn to the way his lips parted at the rim of the cup.

  “Uhm.” I tried desperately to focus, redirecting my attention to my notes. “I think we were on conjugations in this section.” I slid my notebook across the table and watched as he smiled down at it. Warmth filled me as I watched him react to my multi coloured notes. I was grinning like a love-struck idiot again when he looked up at me, and his friendly expression did not help my situation.

  Just like last week, we talked for so long I lost track of time. He was a great teacher and had all kinds of little tricks and tips on how to remember all the rules and weird conjugation patterns that I was having trouble with. I had to take my book back at one point so I could write down everything he was telling me. He chuckled when I dug around in my bag for a pack of highlighters and I found myself jokingly defending my over the top habit, like it was something we talked about all the time.

  The easy camaraderie that was rapidly developing between us felt like coming home after a long absence. It was eerie how quickly the awkwardness fell away once we got past the initial greetings and into a deep conversation about linguistics.

  Unlike last week, he didn’t stop at all to check his watch, and it wasn’t until my phone buzzed loudly on the table next to me that either of us realized what time it was. I grabbed it to check the message, a text from Lauren wondering where I was and if I would grab her a chocolate pastry from the café if I was still there. Then another came through before I could answer, teasing me about my “date” with professor hottie, her official name for Julian apparently.

  “Something wrong?” he asked, and I realized I was making a face at my phone.

  “No, just my roommate being an ass,” I replied without thinking and then clapped a hand over my mouth, eyes wide in embarrassment.

  Julian laughed out loud at me. “Really Mackenzie, do you think me so old and out of touch that I’ve never used the word ass before?” he asked, causing me to laugh in response.

  “You’re not old!” I replied. “I just shouldn’t swear in front of my prof is all.”

  “It’s quite alright,” he said. “Don’t go dropping F bombs or anything, but don’t alter your speech because of me, I’m just a person.”

  “F bombs?” I asked, incredulous. “Maybe you are old and out of touch.” I couldn’t stop myself from the giggle that bubbled up and I tried to cover it by looking down at my phone once again, typing out a quick response to Lauren. “Also it’s almost nine o’clock,” I said, and looked around the empty café, noticing for the first time that most of the chairs were already up on the tables, the baristas getting ready to close down for the night.

  “Is it really?” Julian checked his watch, shock displayed on his handsome face. “It’s a good thing I had the day off to work on my syllabi, or else I’d be up half the night. I hadn’t realized it was so late.”

  “Me either,” I replied, already packing my things back into my bag.

  “Same time next week?” he asked, surprising me as he seemed to be avoiding my eyes when he did.

  “Sure!” I said, more excited than I cared to admit at the prospect of another not-date with him. “And I promise not to fall asleep in your class this week.”

  “I’ll hold you to that,” he said with a stern stare that quickly shifted to a sexy smirk. “See you later, Mackenzie.” He slid gracefully out of the booth and left the café. I counted to 100 after I heard the door close and then followed, completely forgetting Lauren’s pastry in the process.

  Chapter 3

  I finally managed to settle into a routine that included actual sleep over the next week, which was a nice break for my tired brain. I no longer needed maps to find my way around the expansive campus, either. I had silently congratulated myself the first time I was able to make it to every class—on time even—without needing to consult them once, and by the following Monday they lay discarded on my desk, half buried under random bits of paper and at least one empty coffee cup.

  Lauren had taken to mercilessly teasing me about my growing crush on Professor Quinn—she said it was payback for her forgotten pastry last week. I gave up defending myself, mostly because she was right and I knew it, but also because trying to deny it or say anything really seemed to just be fuel for Lauren’s fire.

  Monday morning, we headed to the showers in our dorm hall together with Lauren joking about my “date” that night.

  “So…do you know what you’re going to
wear to meet professor hottie tonight?” she asked with a laugh as we pushed open the bathroom door.

  “Whatever I end up wearing today, asshat,” I replied, “because it’s not a date and therefore not something I need to get dressed up for.”

  “Mhmm.” She nodded. “You keep telling yourself that.” She jumped out of the way as I attempted to hit her with my towel and headed into one of the stalls.

  I followed suit and stepped into one of my own, slipping out of my pjs and under the hot water. The rushing in my ears drowned out the sounds of the other girls getting ready for the day, and my thoughts drifted—as they often did these days—to Julian.

  I washed my hair, and as I tipped my head back under the hard spray to rinse the conditioner my hands drifted over the rest of my body, seemingly of their own accord. Julian’s smirk flashed in my mind as my hands grazed my breasts. Heat pooled between my thighs and I dipped one hand slowly between my legs to rub myself there. It didn’t take more than a minute before I was biting my lip to keep quiet, my hands working in sync to push me over the edge. Release crashed over me, my eyes closed, and my legs buckled from the force of it. I leaned against the wall of the shower stall panting for a moment, trying to catch my breath and not give myself away when I stepped out.

  Shit. My eyes flew open as I realized that I had just gotten off in the shower to thoughts of my professor. A man I was going to see again this evening. Shit, shit. What am I doing?

  By the time I reached The Coffee Bean that evening, I had resolutely decided to just put that morning’s indiscretion in the shower out of my mind. There is absolutely nothing wrong with a harmless fantasy, I told myself all day, and I was determined not to let it interfere with my time with Julian.

  I tried very hard to convince myself that all this effort was simply so we could keep up our professional tutor/tutee relationship. It had absolutely nothing to do with me desperately wanting to be around him as much as possible. Nothing at all. Unfortunately, I was a shit liar, even to myself.

  I grinned when I stepped into the café and saw that our booth was free. There was a relatively short line, so it didn’t take me more than a couple of minutes to grab a latte and make my way over. I settled into my usual spot and began unpacking my things when I heard the tell-tale ring of the bell. I instinctively looked over my shoulder and broke into a wide smile as Julian stepped into the room.

  He returned my expression with one of his own and made his way to the counter, breaking eye contact only once he reached the counter and turned to face the barista.

  I fidgeted nervously in my seat while I waited for him to get his coffee, trying hard not to have flashbacks of my fun shower time this morning. “Hi Julian!” I blurted out as he sat down across from me, my pen tapping furiously against the tabletop. Great Max, very smooth.

  “Hello Mackenzie,” he replied, his warm smile lighting up his handsome face. “You seemed much more conscious during my last lecture; I trust you’ve sorted out your sleeping problem?”

  “Yeah, the trick apparently is to go to bed at a normal human time, and actually follow the schedule I made instead of running around like a crazy person all the time,” I said, laughing.

  “And that’s working for you is it?” he asked, taking a sip of his coffee. He had the ability to seem intensely interested in mundane things like my sleeping schedule, making my insides fill up with warm fuzzy feelings from his undivided attention. I realized I had been staring into his eyes a moment too long and he was still waiting for my response. I broke our shared gaze and redirected my attention downward.

  “It is,” I replied, looking back up once I had my hormones reined back in. “I’m getting less done than I was a week or two ago, but I firmly believe in quality over quantity, so I keep trying to remind myself of that.”

  “That’s a good philosophy,” he replied, setting his cup down. Inwardly I sighed in relief—his over the rim of the cup stare was melting my insides. “How are you finding graduate studies?” he continued.

  “Different,” I said with a breathy laugh, “very different from undergrad. I’m not sure how much of that is culture shock—New York is so much bigger than my hometown—and how much is the actual shift from undergrad to graduate. Tell me it gets easier,” I pleaded.

  “Oh it does, after you graduate,” he said, smirking at me. “Are you going to pursue a PhD after your masters?”

  “I haven’t decided yet, I guess it depends on if I survive till I get my masters.”

  We lapsed into companionable silence, both slowly drinking our coffees and trying not to stare at each other too obviously across the table.

  “Where were we last week?” Julian asked, breaking the quiet.

  “Huh? Oh! You mean with my stuff, yeah, hold on I’ll check.” I blushed furiously—I’d completely forgotten that we were here to work on my linguistics skills, not shoot flirtatious looks across the table. Despite my adamance to Lauren that morning, this definitely felt more like a date than a study session.

  I dug around in my bag until I found my notebook and coloured pens, yanking them out rather unceremoniously and dropping them on the table. Julian watched me from across the booth the whole time, an inscrutable but adorable smile playing on his lips.

  I dropped my gaze and flipped quickly through the pages, trying to find where we had left off before, studiously ignoring his eyes in an effort to not get lost in them again. “I think…” I double checked my position in the book. “Yes, right here is where we left off.”

  I slid the book across the table to him, pointing to the verb tenses we had been discussing last week. He reached for the book, and his hand closed over mine on the paper. Electricity shot up my arm at his touch and settled deep inside the most intimate part of me. My eyes shot up, and met his wide-eyed gaze and I knew he felt it too.

  We are in such deep shit, I thought fleetingly before deciding to ignore that rational part of my brain telling me to stop falling for him. The physical reaction was like nothing I’d ever experienced, and I certainly wasn’t a blushing virgin by any means. This was different, so different that the moment seemed trapped between us, extending on as we sat there, hand in hand at the table, gazes locked in mutual surprise.

  Julian had more self control that I did as he finally slipped the book out from under my hand and looked down at my notes. The moment broken, I tried to contain myself, belatedly aware that I was breathing heavier than strictly necessary for someone who had been sitting still for the last half hour.

  Oh, he’s talking again. I wrenched my attention back to the topic we were supposed to be discussing and listened as he described the differences in tense conjugation between Latin and Greek verbs.

  Time ticked on as we talked, him explaining and me interjecting with the occasional question or clarification. We passed my notes back and forth, our hands touching each time, innocently at first, but then more and more deliberately as the night wore on. Once again we found ourselves surrounded by upturned chairs by the time we were ready to call it a night. Truthfully, I wasn’t ready to end our time together, and I was fairly certain he wasn’t either, but we had already stayed past closing time. Reluctantly I packed up my stuff, moving slower than I would normally.

  “Same time next week?” I asked, smiling across the table. Julian returned it with a heart stopping one of his own, which fell into a frown a moment later.

  “I can’t,” he said, “I have a meeting next Monday evening.”

  “Oh,” I replied, and tried not to look crestfallen. “Well maybe, if you give me your number, I could text you when I’m free and not sleep-deprived to set another time?” My hopeful heart fluttered in my chest. Exchanging numbers with my professor might not be the best idea, but now that I had said it out loud, I was desperate for him to say yes.

  “That would work,” he replied, his beautiful eyes lighting up at my suggestion as he passed his phone across the table to me, already on the contact input screen.

  Lightheaded giddin
ess flooded my head as I typed my name and number into his phone, resisting the urge to put Max instead of Mackenzie. Even though most people in my life called me by the shorter version, I had come to love the sound of my full name rolling off his tongue. I passed his phone back across the table and slid out of the booth. I better get out of here before I say anything even more bold, I thought.

  “I’ll see you soon then,” I said, hoisting my bag up onto my shoulder and grabbing my empty coffee cup to toss on my way out.

  “See you soon Mackenzie,” he replied.

  I damn near floated back to my shared dorm with Lauren, barely noticing the chill night or loud groups of people milling about the campus. As I locked the dorm room door behind me, my phone vibrated in my pocket. I knew it had to be Julian before I even looked at it, and sighed in content as I leaned back against the door. Whatever was happening between us, it was too magical to let it go just yet.

  Chapter 4

  Hello Mackenzie? I checked the message for the third time since I had gotten back to my room, trying to decide how to answer. I settled for a simple, Yes Julian? And then giggled like a moron, intensely glad that Lauren wasn’t around to mock me. It would be bad enough when she found out I had given him my number, let alone if she caught me giggling while texting him.

  My phone buzzed again in my hand, the screen lighting up. Just double checking the number. A likely story Julian, but I decided to let that one slide, I was happy he decided to text me first. I definitely wasn’t the only one feeling the electricity that crackled between us more and more frequently with each passing week. Satisfied that it’s the right number then? I tapped my thumbs quickly on the screen. His reply came back quickly, Yes.

  That was it, I forced myself to put my phone down and get undressed for the night. As I pulled my shirt off another reply followed, Did you make it home okay? I smiled to myself, warmth filling me up at his concern, and the excuse to keep the conversation going.