Free Teaching Willow: Session One by Paige James

could all be in my head because I want him to feel that way so badly. 
    Not that any of this matters.  What matters is that he seems to be engaging “Sage” just fine now and, as Willow, that still leaves me nowhere.
    I turn over and bury my face in the pillow.  I take a deep breath and smell only Sage’s perfume, so I throw it off the bed in a fit of pique.  Why can’t he just see me?  Why can’t he just love me?
    For the space of about six heartbeats, I regret ever pretending to be Sage.  Tasting this part of Ebon has only made it that much harder to let him go and love him from afar.  Not to mention that living with the guilt of what I’m doing feels like an impossible feat at times.
    But then I think of why I did it. I think of the unparalleled pleasure of having Ebon’s hands on me, his lips on me.  I can only regret my masquerade to a certain degree when I got so much pleasure out of it.  It’s the aftermath that seems to be slowly killing me from the inside out. 
    I love Ebon.  And I can’t stop wanting to be with him.  As sick as it sounds, even though he thought I was someone else, I still have the memories as if they were my own, and I’ll treasure them as such. Maybe that will help me to swallow the bile that rushes to the back of my throat every time I think of him calling me by my sister’s name. 
    I drag myself out of bed at a little after seven to shower. I get out and dress in the most comfortable, feeling-sorry-for-myself clothes that I own—yoga pants and a bright yellow T-shirt that says When a problem comes along… on the front and …you must whip it on the back.  I’m just brushing out my hair when I hear a light knock at the door.  I go to open it and nearly drop my brush when I see Ebon standing on the other side of it.
    Dressed in jeans and a blue chambray button up shirt under a gray vest, he looks ready for work.  And ready to make my heart stop.  The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, revealing his tanned forearms.  Even as I look at them, I can remember seeing the muscles flex beneath his skin as his fingers weaved their magic spell over my body.  Heat pours into my panties and my face burns.
    As I watch, Ebon’s eyes turn dark, like he can see into my mind, see what I’m imagining.  My blush deepens and I pin a bright smile to my face.
    “Good morning,” I say, giving no thought to which sister I’m supposed to be.
    “Willow,” he says softly.  After a moment, I don’t have to wonder how he knew which name to breathe.  I’m dressed in something Sage wouldn’t be caught dead wearing and I’m too bright and shy and casual to be Sage.  So, the tone is set.  Now I have no choice about how this encounter will play out.  In the future, I’ll have to be more mindful of how quickly I answer the door after checking to see who stands outside it.
    Disappointment trickles through me.
    “What are you doing here?” I ask bluntly.
    He holds up a deli bag in one hand and then lowers it to hold up a coffee cup holder in the other.  “Breakfast. Is Sage around?”
    I do my best to not react.  “Uh, no, she had an early day today. She left just a few minutes ago.”
    “Oh, because her car’s still out front.”
    “Right, right. She, uh, she carpools with another girl quite a bit.  This is a really different type of position, evidently, so she’s scrambling to get her footing.”
    Just like I’m scrambling to get mine.
    “Oh, I see,” he says, showing no signs of suspicion.  He clears his throat and looks past me like he’s deliberating.  “Well, I’ve got an extra bagel and coffee. Are you up for some breakfast?”
    My heart soars.  I want to scream YES, YES, YES !  But I keep it to a pleasantly subdued response.  “Sounds great,” I say as I step back to open the door wider.
    Rather than taking his goods to the kitchen, Ebon carries the bagels and coffee to the couch and sets it all down on the table.  He stands and claps his hands