In a Rush

Chapter 12

chapter twelve

Ryan

Today’s Learning Objective:

Students will keep the good times rolling.

I knew it was morning and I had to get my ass to the gym but I didn’t want to open my eyes. Not yet. All I needed was five more minutes of feeling…not awful. My shoulder didn’t ache, my hip wasn’t shooting daggers down my leg, my joints weren’t made of rust. For once, nothing hurt enough to get me moving.

I just wanted to exist in this bliss a couple minutes longer. Then, I’d take care of the hard?—

Fuck.

It was then that I realized the pressure on my cock was real. It wasn’t the remnants of a dream. It was happening right now and it was from Emme’s ass in my lap—and the only things separating us were a blanket, her sweats, and my trousers. It might seem like a lot but I could be rid of all of it in less than thirty seconds.

I stared at her, still asleep beside me with her dark hair in braids and my hand tucked under her sweatshirt, resting loosely on her belly. My cock gave a painful throb and I had to swallow a loud groan.

It took everything in me to keep from jackknifing up and out of the bed. No one needed that kind of reaction. Uncalled for. And those antics would only draw attention to the fact we’d slept together—rather we’d slept apart while in the same bed—and I’d had an obvious physical reaction to that.

With all the regret in the world, I pulled away. Her torso was too short and my hands were too big for this to continue. One slight shift in either direction and I’d be in dangerous territory.

Slowly, I shifted to my back and shoved myself into a mental ice bath. Not that it helped much. Not now that I knew how perfect her backside felt against my cock. After touching her like she belonged to me for hours .

After kissing her.

Yeah, fuck, that one had changed things.

I’d told myself it wouldn’t matter. That I could find the perfect moment with just enough cameras on us, and I’d get it done. Get it out of the way and move on.

I’d known all of that was bullshit but it was easier to believe the bullshit than the alternative. So, I’d kissed her. And then I couldn’t stop. If I’d talked to anyone the whole night, I didn’t remember because all I’d done was stare at her mouth and think about how I’d made a huge fucking mistake by telling myself I could play this game with her.

This was going to ruin me. I knew it. I knew it as well as I knew I wanted to roll over and drag her back to my lap.

The funny part was that my watch showed some of the best bio-data I’d had in months. Maybe years. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d slept this well.

Emme shifted under the blankets and I knew she was awake. She took a few minutes to stretch and yawn before rolling over to face me.

“You were out so quick,” she said around another yawn. “Do you remember seeing any of the movie?”

I shook my head. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to crash here like that.”

She brushed some loose hairs off her face. “It was better this way. I didn’t have to share any of the desserts with you.”

“You should’ve woken me up,” I said. “Sent me home.”

“I didn’t mind,” she said, stretching her arms over her head and sending that sweatshirt riding up the soft line of her belly.

I looked away. “Have you seen my phone?”

She kicked off the blankets and headed toward the door. “Over there. I plugged it in.”

I knew better than to expect any kind of what does it mean? reaction from Emme this morning but I still wanted one. I wanted her to say something about last night, about sleeping together, about this whole fucking thing. To give me any small sign that she’d felt the earth move when we kissed. That she’d wanted to snuggle up to me in the night and she’d noticed how I reacted to her. Any opening she gave me, I’d take.

But I wasn’t holding my breath for one.

I waited until I heard the bathroom door close before climbing out of the bed. I didn’t trust my dick not to spring back to life at the sight of Emme and her three-sizes-too-large sweatpants. Though I was thankful for those sweatpants. As much as she liked sweeping things aside—like the fact we slept together last night —it would’ve been a lot tougher to pretend this was merely a friendly sleepover if she’d worn some little shorts or just an oversized t-shirt.

My notifications were more chaotic than usual and it took me a minute of blinking at the screen to figure out why everyone needed to talk to me right away.

“Fuck,” I groaned.

The elevator pic.

I wanted to punch myself in the face for throwing Emme to the internet wolves but it seemed I was alone with that sentiment. Jakobi was pleased with the response and Stella was too, though her team had worked through the night getting rid of the more unhinged comments. My family, of course, had the most unhinged comments.

Claudia had been the first in the family group chat, sharing a screenshot of my social post sometime around five this morning. For reasons I didn’t care to understand, they’d all been awake then and immediately chimed in with responses and hadn’t let up in the hours since.

Claudia: Explain yourself, brother.

Mom: Is that Emme Ahlborg??

Amber: Holy shit, it is Emme

Mom: I hope this is real!

Chloe: Well, I just screamed my husband awake

Mom: Did you make this up, Claudia? Is this AI?

Claudia: This is your son’s page, Mom. Go look for yourself.

Gramma CeCe: It’s about damn time!

Ruthie: Which event was this?

Mom: Please tell me this isn’t a joke!

Amber: I knew it!

Claudia: You must breathe, Mother. If you can’t handle that, you’ll never survive what I have for you next.

My youngest sister then posted twenty-seven photos of me and Emme scrounged from the charity ball’s posts and the socials of anyone we took pics with. She grabbed the Boston newspaper’s photos with all the guys from the team too.

Chloe: Is it really happening? Is this it?

Gramma CeCe: It’s been 84 years…

Amber: omg lol

Claudia: The timing is impeccable as always, Gram

Mom: I’m just so happy 18 sobbing emojis

Mom: FINALLY!! 10 praise hands emojis

Gramma CeCe: It was only a matter of time

Ruthie: I have some questions

Claudia: DAMMIT RUTH. Can’t you let people be happy for a minute?

Ruthie: I can and choose not to

Mom: Put your questions away, Ruthie. This might be my only chance at grandchildren!

Chloe: You have 2 grandchildren. My kids. Remember them?

Mom: Obviously I meant grandchildren from Ryan

Gramma CeCe: I wouldn’t worry about babies. With the way he’s looking at her in these photographs, that horse might already be trotting down the lane

Ruthie: Let’s not jump to those conclusions until we have all the facts

Mom: Ryan, please tell your sister she doesn’t need to litigate anything today

Amber: Even if he does comment, she’ll find fault with it

Claudia: My evidence is stronger than your skepticism, Ruth.

Claudia dropped another dozen photos into the chat, including a blurry one where Emme’s hand was flat on my abs and I was staring at her like I wanted to devour her.

Which was not wrong.

The group thread had continued on but I noticed a message outside the chat waiting for me from Ruthie.

Ruthie: You and your new-old girlfriend are taking me to brunch this morning

Ruthie: Buttermilk & Bourbon at noon

Ruthie: Will you attract enough attention there or would you prefer someplace busier?

Emme returned, her hands curled up inside the arms of her sweatshirt. Her eyes were sleepy and the urge to take her back to bed shot through me. “What’s up?” she asked, tipping her chin toward my phone.

“Well, two things,” I said with a wince. “First, the entire world saw my post last night. You might want to turn off your phone for the day.”

She jolted when she saw all the notifications waiting for her. “I guess it’s a really good thing all of my social accounts were already private.”

“It’s the only way,” I said, taking the phone from her. It wouldn’t help to look too closely. “And, um, Ruthie wants to hang out. If you’re up for brunch.”

“Always up for brunch and I’d love to see Ruthie,” she said, wandering into her closet. “Where are we going? I’ll get ready and meet you there.”

“I’ll wait for you,” I called.

She poked her head out but that didn’t hide the fact she’d lost the sweatpants. The sweatshirt just covered the curve of her ass. The one I’d become all too acquainted with this morning. “You can get away with a lot but I don’t think last night’s tux is the look you want this morning.”

“We’ll stop at my place,” I said, turning to look out the window so I didn’t have to talk myself out of another erection this morning.

“Seems like it would be easier to meet you there,” she said.

I glanced over my shoulder as she emerged in a bathrobe that was many terrible things. Short, thin, soft. And her hair in those braids. Terrible . I went back to staring at Charlestown off in the distance.

“Ruthie likes to play the cynic,” I said.

“Oh, so this is a test.” Emme nodded as she loosened her braids. “Gotcha.” She stopped midway through one braid. “She’s doubting me ?”

I shrugged. “It seems that way.”

“This kid isn’t going to know what hit her,” she said. “She’s going to walk out stuffed with waffles and the knowledge that I’m actually your soul mate.”

I gulped. “That’s the spirit.”

But then she frowned and jabbed at the air between us. “Wait. So, you actually want your family to believe this is real?”

I knew how to take hard hits. I knew how to fall. I knew how to play through blinding pain.

And yet none of that prepared me to hear those words without taking it like a direct blow to the chest.

This was how I’d ruin my life. This was what would do it to me. It wouldn’t be the thunderclap fallout at the end. It would be all the paper-cut moments where I died a little while she had no idea.

“Yeah.” I went back to my phone. “Is that okay?”

She hesitated long enough for me to glance up. “I don’t want to hurt them,” she said.

When it ends.

She didn’t say that but it was obvious.

“We won’t,” I said.

We stared at each other. I knew she was thinking we would hurt my family when we split up. But I was thinking we could spare everyone and just keep this ruse going for the next fifty, sixty years.

“It’s going to be all right,” I said. “I don’t know how but I know it will be.”

With a nod, Emme headed toward the bathroom. I flopped onto her bed and groaned into her pillow. It smelled like her which only forced another groan.

Ryan: Noon sounds great

Ryan: Emme is very excited about brunch. She’s also excited about seeing you but I can’t understand why

Ruthie: Love you too

Ruthie was halfway through a Bloody Mary when we arrived at the restaurant. Her gaze dropped to where I had Emme’s hand closed in mine and she unfurled a cutthroat smile that said she saw straight through this little act and she intended to nail me to the wall for it.

But then she popped up from her seat and folded Emme into a tight embrace. They yelled at each other about how long it’d been and how good the other looked and a hundred other things I didn’t catch because they’d gone ultrasonic at some point.

When we finally sat down, Emme plastered herself right up against me. I had no choice but to sling an arm around her shoulders. It wasn’t strictly necessary to twist the ends of her hair around my fingers but when Emme made a show of dropping a hand to my thigh, everything became necessary.

“This is new,” Ruthie drawled, Bloody Mary in hand. “When did it all start?”

“Around Ryan’s birthday,” Emme said easily. She skimmed the menu, tapping her finger beside the description for a frozen Irish coffee that had enough whiskey to make her silly with a few sips.

“Mmm. You’d like that,” I said to her.

“Then not long,” Ruthie said. “Just about a month, really.”

“We met up one night to celebrate and…yeah, it happened fast,” Emme said, a metric ton of suggestion in her tone. My sister’s steely gaze dulled a bit at the implication Emme and I had been tearing up the sheets. “But how else would it be with us? We’ve known each other forever and—you know, it was just the right moment. Everything fell into place and”—she looked up at me, her eyes heavy with hunger—“here we are. At last.”

She raised her fingertips to my jaw and drew me closer. I arched a brow in question and she gave a quick dip of her chin. This woman, fuck. She could read my moves from a mile away. I closed the narrow gap between us and kissed her while my sister loudly slurped up the rest of her drink.

The backs of Emme’s fingers traveled over the line of my jaw and I’d swear to god the whole restaurant went silent. Her touch, light and lazy as though it was an afterthought, had heat pooling in my chest, my arms. I didn’t think I’d ever be cold again.

Ruthie plunked her glass down on the table hard enough to rattle the silverware. I pulled back to say to Emme, “I think my sister feels neglected.”

“Probably.” She nodded in a way that had her lips brushing mine and it took everything in the world to keep from hauling her into my lap and just fucking keeping her there. “We should’ve stayed in bed.”

I had to close my eyes because if I looked at her, if I looked at those pert, pouty lips for another minute, I’d find myself hard and miserable in public with my sister watching . Since none of that could occur, I cleared my throat and blinked down at the menu. “What are you in the mood for, Muggsy?”

She gave my thigh a light slap. “Behave yourself.”

“Well, shit. Okay. I was wrong. I get it. This is real as fuck and you love each other in sick, serious ways.” My sister rolled her eyes. “I’m sold and I’m expecting a plus-one to the wedding. But I am drowning in the pheromones here. We are in a busy restaurant on a Sunday morning and you two are a hiccup away from making a baby in front of me. I am begging you to turn it down before I suffocate and die.” Ruthie lifted her glass, calling to the nearest waiter, “Another round over here? And keep ’em coming. Thanks.”

Because I was both an idiot and a masochist, I trapped Emme’s hand on my leg. Just brilliant. “ I’m behaving. You’re the one causing problems.”

“The jalapeno grits sound good,” Ruthie said, sounding bored. “The crab cake benedict too.”

“No. Get something else,” I said, shifting to stare across the table at my sister. “Em’s allergic to shellfish.”

“Oh—I’m sorry,” Ruthie said, dropping the hardened cynic stare for once. “I totally forgot about that.”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll be fine as long as we keep the crab on one side of the table,” Emme said.

“At a minimum, you’ll start coughing.” I leaned around Emme to grab her purse off the bench. “Actually, where’s your EpiPen? I want to know where to find it if I need it.”

When I unzipped the little bag, she pointed to the injector nestled between her phone and wallet. “See? Easy peasy. Nothing to worry about.”

I pointed at Ruthie. “No crab cakes.”

She held up her hands in surrender. “Understood.”

I glanced over at Emme but found her frowning, her gaze distant. I rubbed my palm up and down her arm but that didn’t shake her out of it. After a minute, I asked, “What looks good to you?”

She shifted on the bench just enough to angle her shoulder between us as she studied the menu. “Not sure yet,” she murmured. Before I could press any further, she beamed a smile at Ruthie. “Tell me everything about the new job. Ryan says it’s really intense. But you love it, right?”

My sister launched into a long summary of her life as a junior associate at a corporate law firm and all I could do was watch while Emme seemed to pull into herself and away from me.