Chapter Six

“I was hoping I could use you as a…sounding board for some ideas I have for my next book,” Vivian had said to me from across her cluttered but neatly organized desk in her campus office, “over dinner, of course. My house this Friday?”

And that was how, two weeks after I had peed all over Vivian’s guest room bed, I ended up back at her house, despite my best judgement.

“Again?” Elyse had blurted out when she heard. “Jesus, Lavender, I would think you two would want to be subtle at least.”

“Of course,” I imagined Vivian saying as she poured my fourth glass of wine and I pressed my vibrator against my pull-up, “we’ll have to dress you properly for bed so we don’t have any more accidents.”

And so it was with a tempest of swirling emotions sweeping through my brain that I once again drove to Vivian’s home.

Just like before, I parked on the street, right in front of Vivian’s house, and checked my make-up in the rearview mirror. I was, at first, going to stick with the more conservative and mature look I had worn last time, but at the last minute decided that changing my appearance to try to appeal more to Vivian would only give fuel to Elyse’s suspicions. Tonight, I wore big, razor-sharp eyeliner wings with perfectly blended red and purple eyeshadow. Red glitter sparkled under my eyes and little x’s drawn in eyeliner high on my cheekbones just under the outer corners of my eyes embellished the look. Finally, a set of three eyeliner hearts drawn on the inside curve of my right eyebrow made sure people’s attention was drawn to my green-blue eyes. Blush highlighted my cheeks and the tip of my nose, and my lips were painted a deep blue.

“So, Professor Devereux likes this whole…Hot Topic reject look?” Elyse had said flatly earlier that night while leaning against the frame of my bathroom door as I put the finishing touches on my make-up, proving that she would find a way to be suspicious no matter how I dressed.

“I like it,” I had replied, “it’s not for Professor Devereux.” I decided not to take umbrage at her description of my ‘look,’ and not just because I bought most of my clothes and make up from Hot Topic.

“Uh huh,” Elyse had responded with a roll of her eyes, “and can I expect you home tonight?”

“I slept in her guest room, Elyse,” I had responded, avoiding giving an actual answer. Surely, Vivian wouldn’t invite me to spend the night again…would she? Surely, I wouldn’t accept if she did, right?

It’s not like you’d wet the bed a second time, right?

“That’s not an answer,” Elyse had stated matter-of-factly before giving me a lingering accusatorial look and walking away.

I pushed Elyse and her accusations out of my mind as I stepped out of my car. I was determined to have a good time and make a good impression; I felt like I had to prove I wasn’t some bedwetting dolt. Not that Vivian had treated me any differently since that morning; it was as if, to her, the whole incident had never happened.

And she’s still flirting with you.

I think we can now determine that she definitely was not ever flirting with me. There’s no way Vivian would keep flirting with me after I pissed all over her guest bed.

Why not? Don’t you want someone who will flirt with you precisely because you pissed the bed?

…shut up.

I walked up the short flight of stairs to her front door, rang the bell, and waited.

“Lavender, so lovely to see you,” Vivian’s melodic voice greeted me as she opened the door, “and you do look quite lovely tonight, dear! Please, come in.”

“Thank you,” I blushed as I walked past her, “you look…”

Hot as fuck.

“…really lovely too.” And in her black pencil skirt and low-cut red silk top, she really did look lovely.

And hot as fuck.

Yes, and hot as fuck.

“Thank you, dear,” she replied with a light touch on my arm that sent jolts of electricity through my body. “Come into the parlor, Lavender, let me pour you a drink.”

“Oh, no,” I protested even as I followed her into the same room she had taken me to before, “I really shouldn’t drink.”

“Nonsense,” she said as she pulled a wine glass out of her liquor cabinet and began to fill it from a bottle of white wine she had sitting in a bucket of ice. “This Riesling will perfectly complement the chicken marsala I made; it really won’t be the same meal without it.”

I licked my lips and looked at the glass she was holding out to me. It seemed rude to say no; it seemed dangerous to say yes. But a glass of wine was exactly what I needed to take the edge off my nerves. But maybe my nerves wouldn’t be so…sharp if I hadn’t drank so much last time. But one glass wouldn’t hurt; I could even still drive home after one glass.

You said one glass last time.

And this time I mean it.

“Oh, all right,” I said as I took the glass from her hand, “if you insist.”

“And I do,” Vivian replied, “I’ve very much been looking forward to our evening together, Lavender.”

She’s definitely flirting with you.

“Oh,” I felt my cheeks turn red, “I, um, have been too, I’m really looking forward to hearing about your new work.”

Vivian smirked as she poured herself a glass of wine, “ah, well, Lavender, I must admit that was…mostly a pretense.”

I nearly choked on the sip of wine I was taking.

Holy shit.

“Not entirely, you see,” she continued after a small but intense silence, “there is, in fact, a piece I’m working on that I had hoped you could help me with, but more importantly I wanted to get to know you better. After all, we work so closely with each other, why not know each other a bit more personally. Of course, if you’d prefer our relationship stay more strictly professional…”

No!

“No!” I said, too quickly and too strongly. “I mean,” I tried to reel myself back in, “that sounds…pleasant; I’d like that very much.”

Vivian smiled; electricity shot through my body.

“Oh, I am so glad to hear that, Lavender. It’s been a long time since I’ve had the pleasure of advising a student so brilliant and, quite frankly, fascinating.”

Fuck, she really is flirting with you.

She really is. Fuck me.

She’s gonna.

“Thank you so much,” my cheeks felt like fire, “that means a lot…coming from you…”

“Nothing but the truth, my dear,” she took a sip of wine, her eyes sparkling at me over the rim of the glass. “Shall I serve dinner, or shall we have a seat and chat a little before dinner?”

I glanced at the couch she was gesturing at, and suddenly my stomach twisted with anxiety. I thought about sitting on that couch together, close enough to touch each other, and my nerves began to shake. I took a big gulp of my wine to calm them, “let’s sit.”

“Fantastic,” Vivian grabbed the bottle of wine and took it with her as she made her way to the couch. “So, tell me, Lavender,” she sat on the couch and patted the spot next to her as her way of inviting me to sit down, “what do you like to do in your free time?”

Wear pull-ups and fantasize about you.

“Free time?” I said with a nervous laugh, “I’m afraid I don’t have much of that these days.”

“Oh, I’m sure, your studies must keep you very busy; I remember well what it’s like to be a doctoral student! But you must make time for a little pleasure, Lavender, or you’ll simply burn yourself out.”

Oh, you make plenty of time for pleasure.

I took another sip of wine, “well, mostly I read to relax, but I suppose you could probably guess that.”

“Lavender,” Vivian said with a hint of disappointment in her voice and a shake of her head, “you’re a doctoral student in literature, of course you read, but if that’s all you do to relax, you don’t really have a difference in your work versus your leisure, now do you?”

“I…suppose not,” I chose not to mention that what I read for leisure was a far cry from what I read for work. A very far cry. “I…” was suddenly at a loss from what my hobbies were, “…watch a lot of horror movies?”

“Oh, excellent!” Vivian exclaimed, “I love a good horror film myself. Have you seen It Lingers?”

The next thing I knew, nearly half an hour had passed while Vivian and I shared thoughts on some of our favorite horror movies. Unsurprisingly, she had incredible tastes.

“Have you seen,” Vivian asked as she picked up the bottle of wine and refilled her glass, “Shack in the Forest? It’s an excellent deconstruction of the genre!”

“I have! It’s one of my favorites actually; I really like—” but I quickly cut myself off as the bottle in Vivian’s hand drifted towards my glass, “oh, no, thank you, but I really should stick to one glass tonight.”

“Come now, dear,” Vivian gave me a wounded look, “we haven’t even started dinner yet, and there is always the guest room,” she gave me a small smile as she said it.

Has she just completely forgotten what happened last time?

I’m sure she just knows it was a fluke; I’m not a bedwetter!

Or maybe…

Don’t even go there.

“I…shouldn’t…”

But you want to.

“Well, surely one more glass to have with dinner won’t hurt, will it? And if you should change your mind…” she made a vague waving gesture with the hand not holding the bottle of wine and gave me a smile that looked almost mischievous, “…well, let’s just say I made sure I’m well-prepared, just in case.” She placed a strange emphasis on the “well-prepared” that left me puzzled.

What on earth does she mean?

She was looking at me expectantly with the bottle of wine hovering over my glass. One more glass wouldn’t hurt, she was right about that. And it would be rude to turn it down since she specifically said she wanted me to have a glass with dinner.

You’re doing it again.

“One more glass,” I said with a weak smile, betraying my better judgement.

“Perfect,” Vivian poured the glass and then stood up, “why don’t I go get dinner on the table?”