You knock at on Lydia's door and she pulls it open a few seconds later.
"Thank God!" She pulls you into her apartment.
"What are you wearing?" You ask her, taking in her black skirt, green blouse and heels.
"Do I look like a teacher?" She asks, turning on the spot and you see her hair is pulled back into a knot at the back of her head.
You smirk and tell her she doesn't look like any teacher you had in high school.
"Jess, be serious."
"You look like that red head chick from that show you watch. The one in the 60s."
"Mad Men? You think I look like Joan?"
"Sure?" You're not sure if that's the right thing to say. "You know, but shorter, and thinner. And way hotter."
"Stop babbling." She laughs. "I love Joan. So this is really okay?"
"Yeah," You grin, "that skirt's..." You trail off as she turns again, flashing you a smile over her shoulder.
"It's good right?" She winks. "You think I'll get the job?"
"Job?"
"Yeah." She nods. "That's what this is about. I have an interview. Fort William Prep."
You let out a low whistle. "Wow. Fancy prep school. That why you got the glasses on?" You point to the pair she's wearing.
"What?" She reaches up to touch the black frames. "Oh, no. I wear glasses. Thought they matched the outfit."
You squint at her and ask when she started wearing glasses.
"When I was eight." She smiled. "I generally wear my contacts, but I thought looking smart couldn't hurt."
"I like them." You tell, wrapping your arms around her waist and kissing her. Pulling back, you rest your forehead against hers. "But you don't need them to look smart. You're gonna wow them with your knowledge of Pi and Pythagoras and..."
"Polynomials?" She laughs.
"Yeah." You nod. "When's your interview?"
"Tomorrow, noon." She smiles and extracts herself from your arms. "Give me ten minutes and I'll change for meeting the guys."
"Or, you go change into something more comfortable, I'll go pick up food, get us a movie, and then you can go to bed early, like I know you want to."
"You're perfect." She wraps her arms around your neck.
"I try." You kiss her forehead and then push her towards her room. "I'll not be long."
"Wait!" She stops you and pulls open a drawer in her desk. "Here." She hands you a key with a blue bottle opened key-chain attached. "Figures you needed a key. Besides I have one to your place."
You glance up at her. "You do?"
"Never gave it back to Mathew when I left." She smiles, reaching up and lightly hitting your cheek. "Don't make a big deal out of it." She takes a step and then turns to head to her room. "Oh," She calls over her shoulder, "I want Thai food."
"Sure." You nod, heading out.
"That's good." She hand you back your fork after trying your green curry. She's in a pair of red shorts and an old Ramones shirt. "Why didn't you get me that?"
"I called. You wanted noddles."
"I'm kidding." She laughs and turns are attention back to the screen. "God, he's pretty." She smiles as Jake Gyllenhaal tells Gwyneth Paltrow a math joke. "Thanks for getting me a math movie that isn't A Beautiful Mind or Good Will Hunting."
"Well, I know Russell Crowe freaks you out and Ben Affleck make you want to throw things at the TV. So it was this or The Breakfast Club."
"Because Brian was in the Math Club." She smiles. "Good one."
"Hey, so if you get this job-"
"Don't!" She interrupts you. "Don't put a curse on it."
"I won't." You laugh tell her you were only going to ask if she was going to wear that skirt more.
"Well, yeah, I have to look to professional. Why? Like it?"
"Yeah." You smirk.
"Perv." She mutters, rolling her eyes.
You shrug. "Just appreciating how beautiful my girlfriend is."
"Whatever. That's what all the pervs say." She laughs and you roll your eyes. "I'm stuffed." She sets her plate on the coffee table and then stretches out. "Hey, wanna help me prepare for tomorrow?"
"How?"
She turns the TV off and stands up, taking your hand to pull you up too. "We could do some calculus?" She grins. "A little integration?" Her eyebrows lift suggestively and she places a small kiss on your lips. "Are you a differentiable function? Because I'd like to be tangent to your curves!" She laughs.
"Did you just use a math pick up line?" You smirk.
She nods and smiles up at you. "Did it work?"
"Hell yeah." You bend down to kiss her, your hands smoothing over the skin of her lower back under her shirt, walking her backwards towards her room.
"Hey," She pulls back, slightly breathless, "you think we have too much sex?"
"No." You shake your head.
"Okay." She shrugs. "Just checking." She kisses you again, unbuttoning your shirt, while you move to pull hers off. And it's not too much. It can't be. Not when you can't get enough of her. Her and her lame math euphemisms.
