In a Rush

Chapter 19

chapter nineteen

Emme

Today’s Learning Objective:

Students will swim in shallow waters.

Wildcat: Call me when you have some time tonight. I want to run something by you.

Emme: That falls under the umbrella of “we need to talk” so thank you in advance for the anxiety

Wildcat: No anxiety, everything’s fine

Emme: “everything is fine” is just extra-strength anxiety

Wildcat: I swear there’s nothing for you to worry about

Emme: Then run it by me now

Wildcat: Are you free to talk?

Emme: That depends whether it’s something Grace can hear because we’re at her hair and makeup trial

Wildcat: A trial like…a qualifying round?

Emme: Yeah, she has makeup artists competing to see which one can create the best smoky eye in less than 90 seconds

Wildcat: Are you fucking with me?

Emme: A little

Wildcat: Call me when you’re home

“Wow.” Grace turned in a slow circle as she took in Ryan’s condo. “You weren’t kidding about—” She waved a hand at the long wall of full-length windows and the city stretched out before us. “I thought it was going to be cold the way all these ultramodern places are but”—she smiled at the blue sofa, the casual dining table, the white kitchen—“it’s like actual people live here.”

“Do you want to see the den? The bookcases go all the way up to the ceiling. There’s one of those roll-y ladder things.”

She pinned me with a stare made more fierce than usual by the heavy-handed makeup and elegant updo. “I can’t believe you have to ask.”

We wandered through the rooms—she had her Belle in the Beast’s library moment on the rolling ladder—and I pointed out all the luxurious features. The towel warmer in the bathroom, the ice machine that produced twenty different shapes, the windows with adjustable transparency levels to block out light.

When we settled on the roof deck with a bottle of wine to catch the last of the sunset, she said, “This suits you.”

“What? The penthouse condo? Or weeknight drinking?”

“You know what I mean.” She ghosted a hand over the short sleeve of my dress, a cute little thing included in the items selected by Wren. “You look really nice.”

“Thanks.” I was pleasantly surprised by Wren’s work on replacing my clothes. The pieces looked like something I’d choose—but better. More polished, more refined. And the wild thing was that I felt better too. I felt put together and confident, and those things made a difference.

Grace shot a glance toward my ring and smiled. “I’m happy he finally made a move.”

“That he—oh. Yeah.” I bobbed my head too many times and stared into my glass as something twisted inside me. It’d been months of shaving down the truth to keep her wedding on track and it still ached like a muscle stretched in the wrong direction for too long. “Me too.”

“I know you live in a completely different world now.” She gestured to the fireplace that unfolded itself from the wall at the press of a button and the skyline outlined in the last light of day. “But you’re still my best friend. You can’t get rid of me so don’t try.”

“Why would I try?”

Her shoulders lifted to her ears and she cut her gaze to the stone-tiled floor. “I don’t know. You wouldn’t, I guess.”

I wasn’t used to seeing insecurity from Grace. Nothing shook her confidence. Even when she was uncertain, she stood strong.

“It’s been different, you know, since I moved out.” She set her glass on a side table and clasped her hands between her long legs. “And then since Teddy and even more since Ryan. I didn’t notice it at first because I’ve become exactly who I said I wouldn’t and now the only thing I can think about is my wedding but I haven’t been a good friend to you in a long time and I miss you so much. I don’t want to lose you.”

I perched on the arm of her chair and gathered her in an awkward hug. “You won’t.”

She held me for a long moment before saying, “I don’t know how to tell you this.”

My stomach dropped. “Whatever it is, we’ll be okay. We always are.”

She shook her head and scraped her teeth over her bottom lip. “I interviewed for a third-grade position at the school in our neighborhood last month.” She glanced away. “They offered me the position this morning.”

My stomach tossed itself off the deck and down fifty-nine floors to the street below. “Oh.”

“The commute is killing me,” she hurried to say. “It’s at least ninety minutes each way. And I thought it would be okay, I thought I’d have so much time for audiobooks and pods, but it’s sucking the life out of me and I can walk to this school. We talked about moving but we just finished work on the house. And it was Ben’s grandmother’s house and it matters too much to him.”

Despite my stomach flopping around on the street and my head filling with static, I nodded. I hadn’t realized the commute was taking such a toll. “Of course the house matters to him. It matters to you too. And it’s going to hurt like hell to see you go but it’s a good kind of hurt. It’s a happy change.” I squeezed her shoulders. “I’m happy for you.”

“I haven’t told anyone else yet.” She took a sip of her wine and blew out a breath. “I wanted to talk to you first.”

Again, she needed me to be all right. So, I would. “Audrey will develop a brunch, happy hour, and girls’ dinner party calendar, and she’ll politely enforce it.” I settled back on my seat because the armrest had left my butt partially numb. “Jamie will have a small tantrum and then beg you to take her with you.”

“Shay will cry,” Grace said with a laugh. “Even though she was the first one to leave.”

“She will cry,” I agreed.

“And what about you? What will you do?”

I ran a hand over the soft hem of my dress as I thought about teaching without Grace across the hall from me next year. We’d been together so long I could hardly imagine it. But that wasn’t what she needed to hear. No, she needed me to give her permission to grow and change, even if that took us down different roads. Even if I felt like I was being torn in half. “I’m going to hope and pray that your fiancé can round up some of his big, strong firefighter buddies to pack your classroom because I’m not qualified for that kind of hard labor. And then”—I held up my hands, let them fall to my lap—“I’ll help decorate your new room. I’ll listen to you complain about your new principal and how the other teachers aren’t nearly as fun as we were, and I won’t even say I told you so . Not once.”

We laughed for a moment but then Grace sobered. “Thank you for understanding.”

I smiled and gave her hand a squeeze. “Don’t thank me too hard. I have to understand. Otherwise, I’d just be a cold-hearted bitch and that’s your role in this relationship.”

A laugh tore out of her and she flopped back in her chair, kicking her feet up in front of her. “Oh my god, what am I going to do without you?” She wiped tears from her eyes as she went on laughing.

“You’ll probably be tried as a witch,” I said. “At the minimum, a heretic.”

Still laugh-sobbing, she asked, “And what about you?”

“Oh, well, I’ll probably need a few months to recover from the Stockholm Syndrome you’ve had me under all these years but I’ll be okay. I will have to watch the poor soul who takes over your class and inherits Satan’s finest soldiers next year but I’ll make sure Jamie keeps her little fridge stocked with emotional support snacks for them.”

“It’s the least you can do.”

We watched the city lights for a few minutes before Grace asked, “Will you take pics of me on the ladder before I leave?”

“Yeah, of course. We need to make the most of your camera-ready face.”

“I knew you’d understand.”

After Grace headed home, I changed into a hoodie and sleep shorts and went downstairs to grab a fresh load of laundry from the dryer. I tossed my phone on top of my warm clothes and called Ryan. He answered on the second ring.

“How’s the arm?” I asked immediately. I refilled my water bottle in the kitchen and headed down the hall toward the stairs.

“Tired,” he said, and that was exactly how he sounded. “But solid. They’ve had great advice. Made some good tweaks.”

“That’s good because I won’t marry a QB averaging fewer than two hundred passing yards a game.”

“One, you know my average is two-seventy and two, let’s get married this weekend.”

I dropped the laundry basket halfway up the staircase, sending everything tumbling down. My stainless steel water bottle bounded down each step with a noisy clank and my phone went with it.

“Hold on,” I yelled, scrambling to the landing to grab the basket and then scooping up my sweatshirts and undies. The only saving grace was that my water bottle had stayed closed. “I just need to find the phone. Everything’s fine. It’s here somewhere. One moment please.” I heard the muffled sound of my name and realized my phone was somewhere in my clothes. It took a few frantic moments before I found it hiding in the arm of my favorite dark orange cardigan. “Okay. We’re back. We’re good.”

“Muggsy,” he said with a sigh. “What the fuck just happened?”

“Nothing,” I said, a little breathless. “Just a small laundry situation. On the stairs. Where my phone was eaten. By a sweater.”

He was quiet for a second. “Are you fucking with me again?”

“This time, no, I’m not.”

Another pause. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah, of course.” I sounded like I’d just run a mile. “You were saying something about this weekend?”

“Do me a favor and sit down first,” he said.

I made my way up to my room and set the basket down. Leaning back against the pillows, I said, “Go ahead. I’m safe in my bed.”

“You’re—oh. Yeah.” I heard him swallow a gulp of something and then clear his throat. “Let’s get married this weekend.”

The word “Okay” fell out of my mouth automatically and then, after a hazy blink, “Wait. Grace’s housewarming party is on Saturday and—and we can’t miss that.”

“We won’t miss it.” He shifted and I heard a rough exhale. He was probably sore after all that practice. “Friday, then.”

I pressed my fingers to my lips. Friday was the day after tomorrow. Two sleeps from now. Two sleeps until my wedding day ?

We had to talk about so many things. Everything, really. The rules and the timeline and the expectations. Rather than doing a single thing to help myself and cut down on my confusion, I said, “Let’s do it.”

“Yeah?” I could hear the smile in his voice. I liked that I’d put it there.

“Yeah. Yes. Friday,” I replied. “What do you need me to do?”

He hesitated. “Do you trust me?”

“Unless you’re talking about us jumping out of an airplane or engaging in ritualistic sacrifice, I think you know I do.”

“Neither of those apply here,” he said. “Let me take care of everything. All you have to do is come home after school and we’ll go from there.”

I dragged the laundry basket toward me and started folding clothes. “It’s not that I don’t trust you but what the hell does that mean?”

He made an impatient noise. I adored those sounds. Loved pushing him. “It means I’ll hire an officiant, get the license, and ask Wren to send over dress options for you. We can do this out on the deck. Sunset, how about that?”

“Do I have to wear white?”

“Wear whatever you want, Muggsy.”

The questions kept pouring out of me then. “What about cake? Don’t we have to cut a cake? It doesn’t count if we don’t have a cake.”

“My wife wants a cake, we get a cake.”

I shook out a sweater and then immediately abandoned it to ask, “Who’s going to be there? Is it just you and me? Or other people?”

He cleared his throat again. “That’s your call.”

I thought about Grace and my friends, and how they’d filled in the holes where family should’ve been. I thought about Danielle and how she’d be on my doorstep tonight if I asked. And I thought about Ryan’s family and how their grief was like a hand that held him underwater, even all these years later.

This one would be for us. We’d have the traditional ceremony and the big party, and that one would be for everyone else.

“Just you and me,” I said. “Oh—what about Ines?”

“She’ll be our witness,” he said. “And harpist for the big event.”

“What about rings? I need to find a ring for you, don’t I?”

“Don’t worry about that now. I want to get a band made for you anyway. Something to fit with your ring.”

For the millionth time today, I stared at my engagement ring. It really was lovely. “I don’t think my finger can manage much more than this.”

He laughed. “I knew you’d say that, which is why we need to design something for your child-like fingers.”

“Can we actually pull this off in two days?”

“If I wasn’t in Minnesota, I could pull it off tomorrow.”

“You’ve grown arrogant in your old age,” I said.

“I prefer realistically confident.”

I glanced down at the clothes I hadn’t folded. Most of it would have to be fluffed again. “I know you need this for your business deals and everything but I really don’t want to take anything away from Grace right now. They’re having their party this weekend and the wedding is right around the corner. This is her moment.”

“Her moment is five weeks long?”

“It doesn’t matter to me if it doesn’t make sense to you. It’s important to me.” I started flinging clothes back into the basket. I’d tell him about Grace’s announcement after we got through this. I couldn’t mix the chaos in my life and expect to keep any of it straight. “All I’m saying is I don’t want to make this weekend all about us. Maybe we should wait.”

“Or we do it Friday and don’t say anything for a couple of weeks,” he said.

“Hmm. That—that’s not a bad solution,” I admitted. “That gives us time to get rings too.”

“We could drop the news the week school finishes for the summer. When we head to Vegas for that awards banquet. We’ll have a media circus on our hands and Stella might strangle me but she’ll have time to prep.”

I set the basket on a chair and crawled under the covers. After a moment, I asked, “You really want to do this with me?”

“I wouldn’t do it with anyone else.”

Warm pressure filled my chest and spread down to my belly. “Just so you know, I wouldn’t fake-marry anyone else either.” I heard him shift like he was stretching and then a pained grunt. “Did they push you too hard or is your conditioning that bad that you’re suffering from a few days of workouts?”

“I’m all right.” His tone suggested otherwise. “Long day, that’s all. I just need to soak in some boiling water.”

I nestled deeper into my blankets. “I’ll let you go.”

“Fuck no, you won’t.” I heard him moving around and then the rush of water. “Talk to me while I turn into stew. I need to hear about the makeup trial. Was there a winner?”

“We have some strong contenders though it’ll be a game-day decision.”

“Risky but I respect it.”

He hissed and I heard water lapping around him. It occurred to me that he was quite naked on the other end of this call and…I did not dislike that. “You never did stick with the planned plays.”

“Because I knew the play they wanted me to run wasn’t going to work against the defense read on the field,” he said.

“So sure of yourself,” I mused.

“Well…yeah,” he replied, a touch of hard-earned prerogative in his voice. “I know what I’m doing out there.”

I wanted to say something quick and quippy, but instead, I let out a sad sigh. “Grace is leaving. She got a new job for next year.”

“Shit,” he murmured. “Are you okay?”

“It doesn’t feel real yet. It probably won’t until the new school year starts up and I have to be nice to the stranger who takes over her classroom.” I brushed some hair away from my face. “But I don’t want to talk about it right now. My feelings are too messy.”

“I don’t care. Be messy.”

I was quiet for a moment, busy twisting the bedsheet around my finger and letting it go. “It just hurts, you know?”

“I do.” I heard the water shut off. “It sucks when people leave, even if they leave for valid reasons.”

“Yeah.” We didn’t say anything for a minute but the silence was comfortable. It was easy. I decided to shatter it with, “How’s the tub there? Designed for your oversized species?”

A surprised huff burst from him and then, “What?”

“I mean, I’m only asking because it’s not like you fit in the average bathtub. I’m just picturing those gangly limbs of yours packed in there while you sit in an inch of water.”

I heard water moving around him as if he’d scooped it up and let it splash over his body. His chest, probably. Even if it was a huge tub, he probably wouldn’t have room to sink all the way to his neck. Which meant—at this very moment—beads of water were rolling down the broad expanse of his chest, curving around the rise of his pecs and snaking between his abs toward?—

Oh .

Oh— no .

“It’s more than an inch,” he said. “But I think you already knew that.”

I ceased to exist.

The pulsing between my legs seemed to suggest I was very much alive but the rest of me was deceased. And my first realization in the afterlife was that flirting was new for us. We didn’t do this. There’d always been affection between us but this was something different.

And I liked it.

“The tub is deep. Comfortable.” He made a raspy, growly sound. “Bet it could fit two.”

“But you like being alone.” I almost slapped myself for that. I didn’t know what was wrong with me. Probably something to do with being dead.

“Not always.”

“Oh. Hmm. Yeah.”

“It’s a nice place,” he went on, immune to my sputtering. “Great pillows. I might ask them to send some home with me. I like a good pillow.” I could still hear the water as if he was pouring one handful after another down his chest. Like he intended for me to hear that. “Big bed. I like that too.”

I thought about last weekend at the hotel in Kentucky—and the night he’d stayed at my apartment. I didn’t remember the size making much of a difference when we’d chased each other even as we’d slept. “You are something of a beast so that’s understandable.”

“Is that what you think?”

“Am I wrong?” I asked, all indignant teasing.

Another splash. A sound like skin running over skin. And then, “You have no idea.”

I swallowed hard. I didn’t know what this was or where it would go if we kept on this path. And I didn’t know why it made heat rush through my veins and energy buzz over every last inch of me. I didn’t know how one bath time phone call could zap the life back into me.

But it wasn’t just one phone call. It was my new hair and his visit to my school. It was moving Ines to his condo and my tangerines on the plane. It was being able to take a deep enough breath to hold my head up and feeling like I mattered enough to someone to order a fuck-ton of antibacterial wipes for their classroom.

And it was getting myself off on his leg last weekend too. I hadn’t been the only one playing then, just as I wasn’t now.

I didn’t know what it meant for us but I knew I’d finally roused enough of my old self to feel like this life was worth living. Like I was worth it.

And the man I was going to marry was worth it too.

I smiled as I said, “I think I have some idea.”

He sucked in a breath and I knew—I knew there was no turning back from here. The Ryan and Emme of the past were gone and this new version of us, this couple, were much more than childhood friends.

I didn’t know what lived in the dark unknown of that much more but I knew we’d figure it out—together. Like we always did.

“Have you softened up yet?” I asked.

A choked sound echoed around him. “Not even close.” He cleared his throat and then turned the water on again. “You told me a few months ago you wanted to be married. You wanted to be settled.”

“Yeah,” I said, snuggling into the pillows. “I do.”

“What does that look like for you? Is it a house and kids? A backyard for some dogs to run around? Or a brownstone in the city and traveling every chance you get? What is it?”

It took me a minute to find the right words. “I don’t care about the house, the backyard. The place, the things—they don’t matter. They’ve never mattered. I just want something that belongs to me. Something that’s permanent.”

“And the kids?”

I scowled at the bottles of vitamins, supplements, pain relievers, and hormones lined up on the bedside table. “That’s complicated.”

“Why? Because of your condition?” he asked. “Or because you haven’t decided about kids?”

“The world is a riotous, melting disaster and I’m truly concerned about handing over that shit show to anyone,” I said. “But I’ve always been told getting pregnant could be difficult. For me. So. I’m not sure.”

“I can make some calls and get you in to see better doctors if that’s what you need. If you decide that it’s what you want, I’ll find the specialists. We can—we can do anything, Em.”

I hummed as I thought about this. There wasn’t a lot anyone could do. There wasn’t a cure for endometriosis. The treatments were limited. The options were split between semi-constant pain and surgery—and I’d already gone under the laparoscopic knife once. I was probably due for another nip and tuck of my errant endometrial tissue. It had an annoying tendency to attach itself to places it didn’t belong, filling me with something akin to painful, diseased cobwebs. Or they could chuck my uterus right in the bin.

That was an option but…I always saw myself with children. They were in the far-off future when my apartment wasn’t the site of a great flood and I wasn’t fake-marrying my best friend to exact some revenge, but they were there. Two, maybe three. I didn’t have a master plan for any of these things but I knew I wanted to give my kid some siblings. I didn’t want them to be alone the way I’d been alone.

I knew there would be medical challenges though, and I had to block out those worries before they convinced me it’d never happen and it wasn’t worth trying. I tried to manage my expectations because I wasn’t great at handling disappointment. And it wasn’t like I was in any state to start that process. In my mind, I was still a kid myself. It didn’t matter that thirty was coming up. This was a problem I’d solve another day. When I grew up.

“Are we talking about your big-headed babies again?” I asked. “Because I have some questions about how that’d work.”

“No one’s had the talk with you yet?” I could hear the sharp grin in his voice. “Don’t worry. I’ll explain everything.”

I laughed though something stirred inside me at his words. Something that wanted—no, needed —to hear him explain how we’d fit together. The images in my head appeared all at once and I tried to blink them away but I couldn’t escape the sight of him braced over me, one hand in my hair while the other moved between my legs.

Suddenly I was hot, much too hot for this sweatshirt. I had to set the phone aside to fling it off and find something lighter.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Changing into pajamas,” I said, because I wasn’t going to explain the real issue.

“You’re—Jesus, Emme.” A groan, a ragged exhale, and then the water turned off. “I’m warning you right now I’m not in the mood for another one of your fuck-arounds.”

“You’re not in the mood? Please. Don’t you think I have better things to do?” I asked as I pulled a tank top over my head. “I mean, I’m getting married in two days and I might have to birth some giant babies bred for the backfield. Fucking with you about whether I’m wandering around my room topless?—”

“Emmeline . ”

“—is the least of my priorities.” I smiled to myself as I climbed back on the bed. I loved it when he called me that. I’d never tell him as much because pushing his very large and easy to locate buttons was my absolute favorite thing in the world and I only heard my proper name when he was fully exasperated with me.

I heard a long, muffled growl and then, “If you’re not fucking with me, switch over to video.”

Without thinking any of this through, I tapped the icon and found myself staring at Ryan. Naked. Glistening. Submerged halfway up his chest. All of which was to be expected in a bathtub.

Brighter minds might’ve caught on to this before initiating a video call.

“Hello there.” I blinked a few times too many as I drank in his wet chest, wet shoulders, wet hair. And all that ink on display. I really wanted to know about those flowers tucked in between the trees and waves and everything else. With an exaggerated gesture to my shirt, I said, “Pajamas.”

His scowl was a line of craggy granite, his brows rough peaks. He tipped his head to the side as he eyed me. “I can see that.”

I folded my legs in front of me and leaned back against the pillows. I knew this shirt was thin and, in the right light, a touch see-through. His gaze dropped to the V-neck, then lower. His eyes flared and I had to ask, “Are you happy now?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” he growled.

I watched his gaze devour me and he didn’t even try to hide it. The attention turned my nipples to tight, rosy points right around the time I noticed his free hand had disappeared under the water. His shoulder shifted and there was a slight bunch and pull in his biceps.

I had a good idea where that hand had gone and what it was doing—even if I didn’t know what we were doing.

I didn’t know if it would be like this when he came home on Friday, if we’d flirt and tease and press into each other, but I hoped so. I wanted to feel this again. And I wanted to feel it with him.

And I didn’t really care what we called it or how long we had before the time ran out. Nothing in my life ever lasted very long and this arrangement could be over before the end of summer. I had to wrap my arms around it and hold it close while I could. That was the only way to make it through.

His lips parted on a sigh and a stray thought hit me. “Oh! What about flowers?”

His gaze narrowed but his arm didn’t stop. “Flowers for what?”

“For Friday,” I said. “For our little wedding.”

“I told you I had it under control.” At this, I shrugged, sending the V of my shirt a little deeper. His eyes snapped shut and he said with a huge exhale, “Either you trust me to do this or you don’t.”

“Okay, okay, calm down.” I snuggled deep into the blankets, grinning like crazy. There were times when I wondered if I was something of an unhinged bitch or just a lovable brat who liked to pester her deeply pester-able friend. It was probably a mashup of both. “You know I trust you.”

“Yeah.” He ran a wet hand down his face. “It’s a good thing I trust you too, Muggs.”