Come Back to Me (Erotic Reunion Romance, Virgin Sex, New Adult Romance) by Colleen Anderson Page A

talked.
     
    Somehow, I didn’t share her excitement.
     
    The bell rang. It was time to get to work. Sandy was still talking about the crazy things we’d be doing tonight as we walked out of the lounge. I turned for the music hall and sighed as Sandy’s heels clacked away upstairs. Her lifestyle was incompatible for me. I never liked the loud club scene, nor did I really enjoy drinking all that much.
     
    Class seemed to drag on forever the next day. When the bell rang and the last of my students was busy filing out of the door to the next class, I saw a man standing by the door. His royal black suit was slung casually on his back. A bright red skinny tie stood out against his baby blue silk shirt. A thin but well-trimmed beard lined his strong chiseled jaw.
     
    “Stacy Johnson?” I almost didn’t recognize that lopsided grin.
     
    “Josh?”
     
    “My God, Stacey, you don’t remember me?” He feigned hurt and laughed. My heart skipped a beat at the voice. I haven’t heard it in twelve years.
     
    “It’s been a while!”
     
    “Twelve years, four months, and fifteen days.” He walked forward, found his old seat as the first chair of the second violins, and sat down. “This place hasn’t changed one bit.”
     
    Has he seriously been keeping count of the days? Instead, I stammered. “Did you honestly expect it to?”
     
    Josh looked around at the raised ceiling of the room before settling his eyes back on me. They were the same piercing gray-blue color as I remembered them. “Didn’t they say they were going to replace those microphones?”
     
    “I guess.” And there it was again, just like twelve years ago when I watched him leave. My mouth refused to work.
     
    He grinned at me again and before I could react, swiped the score from my hand and thumbed through it. Just like he used to.
     
    “Telemann? When did these kids learn how to play?”
     
    “Don’t be an ass.” My students this year were the best ones I’ve had so far. They had tackled some of the more difficult pieces for a high school orchestra. Parents always came to me after a concert with praises about how well their kids played. Each compliment made my day just a bit brighter and gave me enough motivation to keep doing my job.
     
    He closed the score and handed it back. “Sorry.”
     
    “So what are you doing here?”
     
    “I got bored and decided a change of scenery was in the works.”
     
    “Why here?”
     
    He smiled. “There’s something about this place, you know? I miss it. The same Texas heat. The oversized ice teas. You just don’t get stuff like that in New York.”
     
    “Is that where you work now?”
     
    “Yep.” He reached into his pocket. “Here, take my card. Give me a call when you get bored.”
     
    I shook my head. “You haven’t changed one bit.”
     
    He flicked a speck of dust from his shirt. “I like to think I have. A bit more money now. Financial freedom. Feels good.”
     
    I didn’t say anything to that last bit. The freedom that Josh had was what I had wanted my entire life. To be able to travel the world and see things from another perspective. But my job simply didn’t pay enough. The thought of Josh leaving soon to return to New York made me jealous—almost a bit resentful and a little bit scared. I wasn’t one that believed in fate, but people don’t just show up to randomly say hi after twelve years.
     
    “So are you here on vacation?”
     
    “I guess you can call it that.”
     
    “What do you mean?”
     
    “I’ve retired, Stacey. No more work. No more stress. Just myself and the world.”
     
    “Sounds amazing.”
     
    “It is. You should try it.”
     
    The jealousy bubbled again. “I’m a high school music teacher, Josh. I barely have enough money to put food on my table for the week.”
     
    “In that case, how about I take you out to lunch?”
     
    “I can’t.”
     
    “Why not? You’re afraid that I’ll ask you to pay for your meal?”
     
    “No.