“These are really beautiful.” She held the bouquet close to her face, inhaling the scent. “And you chose red this time. The first time we went out, you bought white.”
“White symbolizes virginity.” He reached out to touch her long, straight hair. “That doesn’t apply anymore.”
She cringed as if he’d struck her and quickly handed him back the flowers.
He was going to ask what the problem was when the elevator door opened. She stepped around him and walked quickly to her apartment, her flip-flops snapping down the hall.
“April? Wait up.” He jogged after her, still clutching the bouquet.
She pulled her keys out of her backpack and opened the door to her apartment. She moved behind the door as if she were going to close it in his face.
“Wait a second.” He placed his palm against the door, holding it open.
“Look, you didn’t have to fly all the way down here and give me flowers just to gloat. I know I’m not a virgin anymore.”
“What are you talking about? I’m not here to gloat.”
“Did you tell all your friends? I’m sure they had a big laugh over it. Take the nice Christian girl out a couple of times and she gives it up like it’s prom night.”
“That isn’t what happened.” Simon glared.
“After we spent the weekend together, you didn’t contact me. No phone calls, no texts. Now it’s the weekend and you show up on my doorstep. Did you fly all the way down here for a booty call?”
“Of course not. If you’d let me explain, I—”
“I’m not a booty call, Simon. Take your red roses and go back to Washington. I can’t keep you from bragging about what happened, but it would be nice if you let me tell my parents first. I don’t want my father reading in the newspaper about how I got drunk and slept with you on our second date.”
She started to close the door, but he flexed his arm, stopping her.
“Just hold on. Can I come in?”
“No.”
He leaned closer, dropping his voice.
“I came here because I wanted to see you. And I chose red roses because I thought you’d like them.”
April clutched the edge of the door tightly but didn’t respond.
“Let me take you to dinner and we’ll talk. If you don’t like what I have to say, I’ll get back on a plane and you’ll never see me again.”
Her green eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What’s your angle?”
“I like you.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it. Isn’t that reason enough?”
“What about your father and the presidential campaign?”
Simon’s eyes widened. It took a moment for him to recover himself.
“He asked me to take you out. I did. That’s where the politics ended.”
“I don’t believe you.” Her voice was soft and she looked like she was about to cry.
“Have a little more confidence in yourself, April. You’re pretty, you’re sweet. I wouldn’t have invited you to the Hamptons and taken you out for mojitos simply for politics.”
Her expression telegraphed her disbelief.
“I mean it. Now put those things in water and let me take you to dinner.” He handed her the roses and flashed a smile.
She hesitated, looking at the flowers.
“Okay.” She opened the door wider so that he could come in. “But no mojitos.”
“Scout’s honor.” He saluted her before closing the door behind them.
Chapter Forty-five
At the end of the Labor Day weekend, Julia and Gabriel returned to Cambridge in order to begin the academic year. Gabriel was teaching a graduate seminar and an undergraduate class at Boston University, while Julia attended Harvard.
In the second week of September, Gabriel visited a well-respected urologist. He didn’t want Julia to accompany him, since the appointment conflicted with one of her classes. So he went alone.
When he arrived home for dinner, she pounced.
“Well?”
“Good evening to you, too.” He brushed his lips against hers and pulled back, staring at her.
“I’m still getting used to these.” He touched the frames of her tortoiseshell glasses.
She adjusted them self-consciously before taking them off. “I only need them for reading. At least, that’s what the optometrist said.”
“You look like a sexy librarian. In fact, I think we should take them into the study and introduce them to the wonders of desk sex.”
Julia laughed. “You aren’t going to distract me with desk sex, Professor Emerson. I want to hear about your appointment.”
Gabriel’s smile faded.
“What if I promise you consecutive orgasms?” he whispered, grasping her wrist and bringing it to his mouth. He kissed her, nipping at the skin.
She swallowed hard. “That sounds—great. But I still want to hear about the doctor.”
He took a step closer, walking her toward the kitchen table.
“And if I promise you kitchen table sex, the likes of which you’ve never experienced before?”
He placed her on the edge of the table, spreading her legs so that he could stand in between them.
She raised her hand to his face. “I’d say you’re worrying me because you’re trying to distract me with sex. Please tell me what happened.”