Love Delayed

My chest tightened when she turned into the room, visibly moping as she headed to the bed. Each step farther into the room she took, I watched her little ass jiggle. My dick was so hard the shit was painful. I don’t know how, but I found sleep at some point after twisting and turning much of the night with Zoey’s scent still in my nostrils.

Later that night…or early morning, I rolled over and was stopped by something small and warm. I opened my eyes to find Zoey, quietly snoring with her lips parted. She appeared so innocent and calm, even more than I knew her to be before we arrived here in Alpine, where her seductress persona materialized. This was the Zoey I knew; soft and drama-free. After staring at her for a few minutes, I was able to fall back asleep. But my lewd dreams of her were something I couldn’t control.

The following morning, I was slamming refrigerator and cabinet doors while trying to time the stove. Grease was popping everywhere and my fucking pancakes looked nothing like I’d ever been served. The bacon had burned to a crisp just as I was searching for a bowl large enough to whip the eggs in. And to top it off, I’d be damned if the bread didn’t pop from the toaster black as tar. I’d fucked up big time and I had little food to start with. I already knew the first thing we’d do this morning was hit the grocery store. Where was Emilda when I needed her? Out of nowhere, I felt the damn spatula being snatched from my hand.

“No, Leo,” she sighed. “It wasn’t Lewin’s research on conditioned reflexes that influenced the rise of behaviorism. It was Pavlov’s experimental methods that helped transition psychology from introspection and subjective assessments to objective measurement of behavior.”

That reminded me of the tutoring call she said she had this morning. As she spoke, Zoey removed the pan of bacon from the eye and turned the stove off. She rotated, in search of something and then took long strides over to the refrigerator. I couldn’t help but notice she was irritated, certainly not my cool and funny Zoey.

“Lewin was groundbreaking in modern social psychology because of his work that used scientific methods and experimentation to explore social behavior. Remember,” she paused, scanning the contents of the refrigerator. “Uhhhhh…he was a seminal theorist whose great influence in psychology still makes him one of the most distinguished psychologists of the 20th century.”

I stood back from the open area to give her space. Zoey wore fitted jeans, a brown sweater and ugly ass Ugg boots. She tapped on the fridge door, humming. “No, that would be JP…Jean Piaget. Yes…”

She pulled out the nearly empty carton of eggs, shredded cheese, a half cut green pepper and deli sliced ham. Then she started opening and damn near slamming cupboard doors, making me flinch. Finally she found another frying pan.

“Hang on Leo, I need to put you on speaker while I cook.”

She punched a few keys and then I heard the voice of young Leo. He sounded like a jock. I’d hoped he was paying her a fair wage. All of sudden I didn’t like sharing her time with a frat boy. They exchanged words as she continued rattling off names and theories. A crazy sensation ran through my chest when I realized she never paid me a glance since walking into the kitchen. I’d hoped she wasn’t hanging on to my rejection last night.

“Yeah…well, I know his work is in psychosexual development. No one can forget Freud!” Leo informed, just a little too excitedly, bringing my attention back to their conversation. “Do you think if he were around today, he could help me score with you?”

My ass bounced off the counter. Zoey’s neck snapped to find me. Her arm slammed into my chest when I went for the phone. I stood in the middle of the kitchen flexing.

“Uhhh…” she eyed me warily. “Leo, it doesn’t seem that I’ll be scoring…with anyone.” She rolled her eyes away from me on that. “Listen, go over the ones we’ve discussed today and we’ll plan a time to meet and get you acquainted with the others when I get back on campus.” She sounded even more aggravated.

When she hung up, she transferred plates of omelets and toast to the island then went looking for utensils. My Ni?a was obviously frustrated.

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