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Authors: Kathy Lyons
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his empty bowl, groaning as his head dropped into his hands. Sue was here. Alone in his apartment. And he hadn't the mental focus to seduce her.
"I've got a couple hours, Mitch, if you want me to stay."
His head jerked up painfully. "Stay," he croaked. Again she laughed, and he closed his eyes, enjoying the sound. It settled into his insides, putting everything in its proper place. God, he could sit and listen to her forever. It just felt right.
"Fine by me," she answered. "We can watch TV or you can sleep—"
"Talk. We'll talk." The last thing he wanted to do was sleep through their precious time together. If God truly smiled upon him, no mothers, nieces, sisters, fathers, or bosses would dare interrupt this time. He dropped his head back against the couch, letting his eyes rest on her face. "You talk. I'll enjoy."
He didn't quite believe her blush. She literally glowed with beauty. "Okay," she said. "What should I talk about?"
"About how I'm right, and you're wrong." She had said that, hadn't she? On his answering machine? "Oh, yeah," he quickly added. "And how quickly I can get you in bed."
She shook her head even as she dropped a kiss onto his cheek. "Sorry. I don't sleep with the dead."
"Just keep talking. You're making me stronger by the second."
* * *
Su Ling did not want to be in line. She did not want to wade through the endless piles of red tape required to register late at the University of Illinois. She certainly didn't want to be standing in line, her feet going numb, while she waited to file more paperwork.
She wanted to be with Mitch. They'd talked for hours yesterday, sharing the silly intimate details of their lives and thoughts and hopes and fears until exhaustion finally claimed him. Even then she hadn't left, but sat on the floor watching him breathe, wondering at the strangeness of life that she would think naughty thoughts about an unshaven, tattooed, rebel wanna-be. That had been his last confession: the wild youth he hadn't really had and the fear that his life was built on a lie.
She hadn't known how to respond except to help him look at the truth. He loved teaching and was phenomenal at it. She, on the other hand, had no job, no career, and no idea what to do with her time. Meanwhile, her family had thrown a fit, and she'd had to endure endless lectures on reckless impulsiveness.
Mitch had laughed at that, obviously wanting to talk more, but losing the battle with exhaustion. His last suggestion had been to take a couple classes at the U of I while she figured a few things out. Then his eyelids had finally slipped down as he sank into much-needed sleep. In a supreme act of will, Su Ling had not joined him in his bed, curling up in his arms, but had gathered her things and left.
Now, a day later, he was at school while she stood in line at the registrar's office, counting the seconds until she finished with all this red tape. She'd already called in her mother to drive Mandy to volleyball. If this line took much longer, she wouldn't even get to see the match.
Then, praise God, it was her turn. Fifteen minutes later she slammed her briefcase shut and dashed to her car before careening down the road to Mandy's school.
She arrived in time to see a dismal score in the second game. Franklin was losing badly. Their serves went wild, their hits seemed erratic, and nowhere did she see Mandy. She did, however, see Mitch, looking like death warmed over as he croaked out encouragement from the coach's seat.
Where was Mandy? She wondered at first if her niece was hiding in the locker room. But as the match wore on to its depressing end, Su Ling realized Mandy wasn't even there. Seconds later she'd whipped out her cell phone, images of crumpled cars and mangled bodies flashing though her mind. It took her two tries to dial her home number, and when she finally pressed the phone to her ear she couldn't hear for all the noise in the gym. She thought her mother had answered, but when she spoke into
"I've got a couple hours, Mitch, if you want me to stay."
His head jerked up painfully. "Stay," he croaked. Again she laughed, and he closed his eyes, enjoying the sound. It settled into his insides, putting everything in its proper place. God, he could sit and listen to her forever. It just felt right.
"Fine by me," she answered. "We can watch TV or you can sleep—"
"Talk. We'll talk." The last thing he wanted to do was sleep through their precious time together. If God truly smiled upon him, no mothers, nieces, sisters, fathers, or bosses would dare interrupt this time. He dropped his head back against the couch, letting his eyes rest on her face. "You talk. I'll enjoy."
He didn't quite believe her blush. She literally glowed with beauty. "Okay," she said. "What should I talk about?"
"About how I'm right, and you're wrong." She had said that, hadn't she? On his answering machine? "Oh, yeah," he quickly added. "And how quickly I can get you in bed."
She shook her head even as she dropped a kiss onto his cheek. "Sorry. I don't sleep with the dead."
"Just keep talking. You're making me stronger by the second."
* * *
Su Ling did not want to be in line. She did not want to wade through the endless piles of red tape required to register late at the University of Illinois. She certainly didn't want to be standing in line, her feet going numb, while she waited to file more paperwork.
She wanted to be with Mitch. They'd talked for hours yesterday, sharing the silly intimate details of their lives and thoughts and hopes and fears until exhaustion finally claimed him. Even then she hadn't left, but sat on the floor watching him breathe, wondering at the strangeness of life that she would think naughty thoughts about an unshaven, tattooed, rebel wanna-be. That had been his last confession: the wild youth he hadn't really had and the fear that his life was built on a lie.
She hadn't known how to respond except to help him look at the truth. He loved teaching and was phenomenal at it. She, on the other hand, had no job, no career, and no idea what to do with her time. Meanwhile, her family had thrown a fit, and she'd had to endure endless lectures on reckless impulsiveness.
Mitch had laughed at that, obviously wanting to talk more, but losing the battle with exhaustion. His last suggestion had been to take a couple classes at the U of I while she figured a few things out. Then his eyelids had finally slipped down as he sank into much-needed sleep. In a supreme act of will, Su Ling had not joined him in his bed, curling up in his arms, but had gathered her things and left.
Now, a day later, he was at school while she stood in line at the registrar's office, counting the seconds until she finished with all this red tape. She'd already called in her mother to drive Mandy to volleyball. If this line took much longer, she wouldn't even get to see the match.
Then, praise God, it was her turn. Fifteen minutes later she slammed her briefcase shut and dashed to her car before careening down the road to Mandy's school.
She arrived in time to see a dismal score in the second game. Franklin was losing badly. Their serves went wild, their hits seemed erratic, and nowhere did she see Mandy. She did, however, see Mitch, looking like death warmed over as he croaked out encouragement from the coach's seat.
Where was Mandy? She wondered at first if her niece was hiding in the locker room. But as the match wore on to its depressing end, Su Ling realized Mandy wasn't even there. Seconds later she'd whipped out her cell phone, images of crumpled cars and mangled bodies flashing though her mind. It took her two tries to dial her home number, and when she finally pressed the phone to her ear she couldn't hear for all the noise in the gym. She thought her mother had answered, but when she spoke into
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