“I mean it,” she said as forcefully as she could. It was difficult to be stern when all she wanted was to throw herself at him, to be held by him, to make love with him.
“I don’t understand,” he told her. “I thought…” He looked away. “My mistake.”
“No.” She grabbed his arm to keep him in place. “I’m sorry. I’m saying this all wrong. Stephen, this isn’t about you. It’s about me and us and where we are in our lives.” She stared at him, willing him to understand.
“You’re twenty-one years old. You need to finish college and go live your life. You have so many firsts, so many new experiences ahead of you, and I don’t want to get in the way of that.”
He didn’t look the least bit understanding or appreciative of her attempt at self-sacrifice. “What the hell are you talking about? You’re acting like you’re a hundred years older than me. What first do I have in front of me that you don’t have, too? Sure, you’re a couple of years older, but so what? I like being with you. I thought you felt the same.”
He liked being with her? It was hard to focus on what was important and not revel in that information. As for the firsts… “What about falling in love for the first time? You need to do that with someone your own age.”
He stared at her with the expression of a confident male. At that moment there wasn’t nine years between them. They were equals—or maybe he was a little in charge.
“Who have you been in love with?” he asked.
“Um, well, technically I haven’t been in love, but we’re not talking about me.”
“Your point is that you have a whole world that I haven’t experienced. But that’s not true. You told me that even during college you were coming home every weekend. It’s not like you had a great love affair. And since then, you’ve been involved with work and dealing with your mother.”
Aurelia began to regret all the things she’d told Stephen. She hadn’t realized he would use the information to win an argument.
“You’re not a virgin, are you?” he asked.
She flushed but managed to keep looking at him. “No. Of course not.” She’d had sex. Once. Back in college. The night had been a disaster. For once, she hadn’t gone home for the weekend. She’d stayed on campus and gone to a party where she’d gotten drunk for the first time in her life. Not to mention the last time.
She remembered going to the party and meeting a guy. He’d been cute and funny and they’d spent a couple of hours talking. Then he’d kissed her and… She’d never been sure what had happened next. Events were blurry. She remembered him touching her everywhere and being naked and that sex had hurt a lot more than she’d thought it would. But there were no details, just vague images.
She’d spent the next three weeks sweating whether or not she was pregnant, and the next few months waiting to see if there was anything else she had to worry about. She’d managed to escape relatively unscathed, but nothing about the encounter had made her want to repeat it. Until now. Until a twenty-one-year-old boy held her and kissed her. Suddenly there were possibilities.
Life was nothing if not unexpected, she thought sadly. She’d finally found someone she could care about, and everything about him was wrong. She supposed it could be worse. He could be married or eighty or g*y.
“I know what I want to do with the rest of my life,” she said. She had to do the right thing. “I have an established career and something resembling a life. Yes, I have issues with my mother, but I’m working on them. I’m going to keep working on them. You need to go finish college and find out what you want to do with the rest of your life. You need to find a girl your own age and fall in love and get married and have beautiful babies.”
It was difficult to talk. Her throat tightened, and her eyes began to burn. “You’re really special, Stephen. I want the best for you.”
“This is bullshit. You think I care what other people think? What does age have to do with it? Why can’t you be that girl? As for what I want to do with my life, why can’t I figure that out with you?”
“Because you can’t.”
“There’s an argument.” He grabbed her by the shoulders. “You’re the one that I want.”
“You say that now. But you could change your mind tomorrow.”
“So could you,” he told her. “I should trust you because of your age?”
What she wanted to say was that he could trust her because he knew her. But she knew he would tell her the same applied to him. The part that scared her was that she knew he could be right. Which left her exactly where?
“You scare me,” she admitted in a shaky whisper.
He immediately dropped his hands and took a step back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“Not that way,” she said quickly. “I’m not afraid of you. I’m afraid of what I feel when I’m around you. I’m afraid of what I want.” She shook her head. “I don’t want to see you again privately. We’ll go out on our dates for the show but that’s all. I can’t do anything else.”