Chapter 88
**Sara**
We made our way out of the park, our hands brushing against each other as we walked.
As we made our way out of the park, our hands kept brushing against each other. It was like some kind of awkward middle school dance where neither of us wanted to make the first move. I mean, come on, we'd just been making out like our lives depended on it, and now we were playing this weird game of hand chicken?
I was about to say something snarky when Tom finally got the hint and grabbed my hand. Thank God. I was starting to worry I'd have to draw him a diagram or something.
"Smooth move," I teased, giving his hand a squeeze.
"I aim to please."
We continued our stroll, hand in hand, and I felt a little giddy. It was silly, really. Here I was, a grown woman, getting all tingly over holding hands like some lovestruck teenager. But hey, sometimes it's the little things, right?
"So," I said, swinging our joined hands back and forth, "is this your usual post-make-out routine? A romantic hand-holding session?"
"And what would you prefer? A fireworks display? Perhaps a flash mob?"
"Ooh, a flash mob. Now, that would be impressive. Do you have a troupe of dancers on standby for all your dates?"
"I thought this wasn't a date," he reminded me.
"Right, right. Our 'casual dinner between friends.' How could I forget?" I said, rolling my eyes. "But you know, there's one tiny little detail that seems to be throwing a wrench in this whole 'just friends' narrative of yours."
"Oh? And what might that be?"
"Correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm pretty sure friends don't usually engage in the activities we've been up to lately. Unless I've seriously misunderstood the concept of friendship all these years."
"I'm not sure I follow. Care to elaborate?"
"Don't play coy with me, Professor. You know exactly what I'm talking about. The heated glances, the stolen kisses, the... shall we say, extracurricular activities?"
"Extracurricular activities?" he repeated innocently. "I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific. As an educator, I engage in many extracurricular activities: chess club, debate team..."
"Yeah, right. Because that's totally what I meant. Tell me, does your chess club usually involve less clothing and more... physical contact?"
"I'm not sure what kind of chess clubs you've been attending, but mine are generally fully clothed affairs."
"Okay, fine. Do you want me to spell it out? We had sex, Tom. Hot, steamy, mind-blowing sex. Ring any bells?"
He furrowed his brow, pretending to think hard. "Hmm, sex, you say? I'm afraid I don't recall any such encounter."
I stared at him, mouth agape. "You don't... Are you kidding me right now? Did you suddenly develop amnesia in the last 48 hours?"
"Memory loss? No, I don't believe so. My faculties seem to be in perfect working order."
"Oh really?" My voice dripped with sarcasm. "Then please, enlighten me. What exactly do you remember about our recent... interactions?"
"I remember having a lovely dinner with a charming student. And then we went for a pleasant walk in the park. The end."
"Right," I said, my voice flat. "Lovely dinner. Pleasant walk. Got it."
Without another word, I turned on my heel and started walking away. My blood was boiling, but I'll be damned if I was going to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much his little act had gotten to me.
"Sara, wait!" I heard him call out behind me. "What happened?"
I kept walking, picking up my pace. Nothing happened. Isn't that what you just said?
I could hear his footsteps quickening behind me. "Sara, please. What's wrong?"
I whirled around to face him, eyes scanning the street around us. Where was a damn cab when you needed one?
"Nothing's wrong," I said, still looking around. "I just remembered I have an early class tomorrow. Better head home."
Tom's brow furrowed in confusion. "What are you looking for?"
"A cab," I replied curtly. "Or maybe a time machine so I can go back and un-have that 'one-night stand' with you."
"What's going on? Why are you acting like this?"
I fixed him with an icy stare. "I'm sorry. Do I know you?"
"Come on, Sara. I was just messing with you. Why so serious all of a sudden?"
"You think this is funny?" I snapped. "You think it's cute to pretend like you don't remember screwing me?"
"I was just kidding around. I didn't mean to upset you."
I tried to calm myself down. It was just a joke, right? No need to blow a gasket over it. "It's alright," I said, still a bit tense. "Just... maybe don't joke about that, okay?"
He nodded, looking genuinely apologetic. "You're right. I'm sorry. I didn't think it through."
We stood there for a moment, an awkward silence stretching between us. Then Tom cleared his throat. "Hey, why don't we return to my place? We could watch a movie or something, maybe talk things out?"
I shook my head. "Thanks, but I don't think that's a good idea. I should probably just head home."
I glanced around, hoping to spot a cab, but the street was frustratingly empty. Just my luck. I couldn't even make a dramatic exit properly.
Tom noticed my fruitless search. "No cabs, huh? Look, why don't I drop you off? It's the least I can do after my stupid joke."
I wrestled with my conflicting emotions. Spending another second with Tom made my skin crawl, but the prospect of waiting endlessly for a cab in this desolate street wasn't exactly enticing either.
"Fine," I said, resigned. "But no funny business, got it? Just a ride home."
"I'll be on my best behavior."
We started walking towards his car, an awkward silence hanging between us. I stole glances at him, trying to figure out what was going on in that head of his. Was he regretting his little joke? Or was he secretly laughing at how easily I'd gotten worked up?
As we approached his car, I noticed how the streetlights cast weird shadows on Tom's face. It made him look like a brooding anti-hero from a cheesy romance novel. Just what I needed - more fuel for my overactive imagination.
He unlocked the car and opened the passenger door for me. Such a gentleman. I rolled my eyes internally as I slid into the seat.
"Your carriage awaits, m'lady," he said with a grin.
"Shut up," I muttered. Damn him and his stupid charm.
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