In a Rush

Chapter 22

chapter twenty-two

Emme

Today’s Learning Objective:

Students will get their game-faces on.

I woke up naked—and with Ryan’s hand between my legs.

His touch was light, as if he was simply holding me…by the vagina. Which was to be expected because we’d had sex last night. Lots of sex. And we’d also gotten married.

All kinds of adventures for us.

He was asleep, if the slow, steady breathing on the back of my neck was any indication, though he was stunningly hard against my ass. Individually, I had no problem with any of this. The hand between my legs was strangely pleasant. Much better than the usual middle of the night boob grab. And there wasn’t much that dick couldn’t do.

But I needed to get the hell out of this bed because my brain required seven to ten business days to process all of yesterday and figure out who we were to each other now that we had naked sleepovers. Now that I knew the feel of him hitting the back of my throat and bottoming out inside me. Now that we’d jumped from old friends to a fake engagement to a thoroughly consummated marriage. Now that we could never again say we were just friends.

Most of the time, I could roll with whatever happened. I didn’t need a roadmap of everything up ahead. But right now, with my body straining to rock against that hand or lean into that hard shaft, and my head a jumble of hope and dread and affection, I needed to find my way through. This mattered—probably more than anything had ever mattered to me—and I had to get it right. Even if that meant I was weird as hell about it for days.

I had no doubt it would be fun to stay here and let him fuck me right through the mattress a few more times but I really needed to get up and turn into the kind of gangly, embarrassing creature who overthought so hard she set her own hair on fire. Also, I desperately needed to blow my nose.

“I’m going to need your media face today,” I said, fussing with my own face in the car’s visor mirror. My eyes were bloodshot from everything that’d happened last night plus the blanket of pollen that’d fallen over the city. My nose too. Not cute. Not the look I wanted for this wonky new relationship of ours. Or seeing Teddy again.

“Which one?” Ryan grumbled from the driver’s seat.

I’d teased him about driving us to Ben and Grace’s house outside the city this evening and I’d succeeded in fully exasperating him within the first five minutes of this journey. It gave me something to do other than worrying about last night or having to see Teddy or—god help me—speak to my ex.

“If you’re giving me a choice, let’s skip the post-game press conference face. No one needs you sitting there with your arms crossed, a mean scowl, and a beanie pulled down halfway over your eyes.”

“That’s only when we lose.”

I stared at him. I could tell from the smile that pulled at the corner of his lips that he knew I was looking at him but he kept his gaze on the road. I also knew he wasn’t upset with me. A little disgruntled this morning, sure, but we’d settled into a workable rhythm of pretending everything was fine and never once referencing yesterday’s events. Avoidance was so fun. “Are you sure about that?”

He jerked a shoulder. “Mostly.”

“Right. Let’s have the media face where you dig deep inside to find the strength to tolerate spending time with loads of people desperate to tell you how great you are. Just like all those Derby parties.”

“Just like the Derby?” He glanced over at me with a meaningful arch of his brow.

I could almost hear him growl Don’t you fucking stop with that eyebrow. I had to press my thighs together.

“Close enough,” I managed.

He reached for my hand and his thumb traced the band of my ring, his attention back on the road. “I’ll be good. Anything you want, I’ll do it.”

“I just need you to chat up the guys for a bit. You can go back to being dark and broody?—”

“I am not dark .”

“—once they agree you really are the god of football and my ex realizes he’s as useful as a severed head.”

“If anyone’s dark here, it’s you,” he muttered.

“I am a ball of goddamn sunshine and don’t you forget it,” I yelled. Then I followed it up with an ugly sniffle.

He shook with laughter as he exited the highway. “I fuckin’ love you, Muggsy.”

“Don’t forget that either.” I dug in my bag for another allergy tablet and some tissues before going back to touching up my face. It was a warm day, and even without the allergies I had a tendency to look like a sun-dried tomato when left outside too long. That never stopped me from buying new products on the off chance one of them would keep my rosy cheeks in check. “Love you too…Wildcat.”

I stopped myself from calling him husband . I didn’t want to overthink this but I didn’t want it to come out the wrong way. Especially after last night. And the way I’d crept out of his bed. And how I still felt the echoes of him between my legs.

“Why the hell do they live all the way out here?” he grumbled as he turned deeper into the residential neighborhood.

“It’s Ben’s grandmother’s fault. She felt like leaving him a house was a good idea.”

When we pulled up at the freshly painted ranch, I gave my lip color one last look before climbing out of the SUV. I was in a new dress today because the one I’d picked out for this occasion was hosting quite a lot of black mold at the moment. But I loved this long, yellow sundress with tiny dots and soft, ruffled straps just as much.

My apartment was still a disaster and the landlord had no information for us other than “Not today, sweetheart.”

But I knew I looked good and I felt good. And it didn’t matter what Teddy thought about any of it because he was the human equivalent of a sinkhole and I had a four-carat diamond on my hand from my Super Bowl MVP husband.

I was doing just fine.

When I had a gift bag looped around one arm and a large tray balanced in the other, I nudged my backside against the door to close it. It didn’t shut all the way but just enough that I needed to free up a hand to do it. “Dammit,” I muttered.

“I saw that.” Ryan circled the front of the SUV and took care of the door. He glanced between me and the string of cars lining the block. “Ready?”

“Yeah, we’ll go through the—oh, not again.” I kicked my leg out from my skirt to find my lace-up sandals had unlaced themselves once more. I held out the tray toward Ryan. “Can you take this?”

He gave me a single shake of his head and crouched down in front of me. His t-shirt stretched tight across his back as he studied my shoes. It took a second but he figured out the procedure, testing each crisscross and the bow at the top twice.

Then, for no reason at all, he brought his palm to the back of my leg, right behind my knee, and skimmed it all the way up my thigh. He glanced up at me as his broad hand settled just under the curve of my ass while his fingertips drew tiny circles on my inner thigh, and he asked, “Is that what you needed?”

I managed a nod and some noise of agreement and he slowly— so slowly —trailed those fingers back down my leg and around my ankle. After another moment of nearly obscene caresses, he pushed to his feet and gave me a long, lazy kiss.

I wobbled where I stood and it had nothing to do with my shoes. Should’ve stayed in bed with him this morning. It would’ve only delayed the onset of my overthinking but at least I’d be too orgasm-drunk to get obsessive.

He took the tray from my hand, looped an arm around my shoulder, and said, “Let’s get you that revenge, wifey.”

The party spilled from the open-plan kitchen and family room out into the backyard. Groups congregated around the grill, the kitchen island, the patio table under the newly constructed pergola. I spotted Ben outside, pointing up at the roof with some grill tongs while talking to a guy wearing a Ladder 66 shirt. Audrey was busy slicing lime wedges near the sink while Jamie stirred a pitcher of something I prayed was her famous margarita recipe.

No one noticed us at first but then I saw the subtle chin jerks in our direction, the nudged elbows and pointed beer bottles, the gazes that landed on Ryan with a furrow followed by Is that…?

Grace rushed over when she saw us making our way through the family room. She waved us into the kitchen, tsking at the heavy bag I pressed into her hands and grumbling about how gifts weren’t necessary.

“It was Ryan’s idea so you’ll need to blame him.” I gave her a flippant shrug and took the tray from him. “Now, about the charcuterie. It didn’t come out exactly as I’d planned because someone kept sneaking up and eating my salami roses.”

“Mmm. I love having my salami rose eaten,” Jamie called.

“I’m clearly spending too much time with you because I’m not even shocked by that comment,” Audrey said, mostly to herself.

Grace surveyed the spread of cheeses, meats, crackers, and other goodies I’d put together. “It looks amazing.”

Ryan came up behind me, wrapping an arm around my waist and banding the other across my torso, leaving his hand splayed over the bare expanse of my chest. His fingertips slipped under the shoulder of my dress and he traced the line of my bra strap. His lips on my neck, he said, “I’ll make it up to you.”

I felt a ripple of awareness move through the house and I knew all those eyes were on us. And I knew my ex was one of them. I’d spotted his big stupid truck the second we turned down this street and I’d heard his whiny laugh float in from the backyard.

He was watching now, I was sure of it, and I hoped he felt the same sad, sinking sensation that I’d experienced outside his door that night. Not because he was being hit with the fact that I’d moved on from him or even that he’d been wrong to treat me as he had. No, he was realizing he’d never be able to watch his favorite team play again, never be able to wear his Ralston jersey—without thinking of me and my husband.

But that wasn’t why I brought my hand to the back of Ryan’s neck and pulled him down for a kiss. That wasn’t why I kept it going longer than necessary or why I let my fingers scrape along his scalp until he squeezed my hip hard.

He went back to my neck, holding me tight to his solid body as he growled, as he pressed his teeth to my skin. “What are you doing to me?” he whispered.

“I don’t know,” I whispered back. “What does it feel like?”

“You really want to know?”

When I tipped my chin up in challenge, he pressed his hips against my backside and— oh . I felt the hard heat of him through my dress and I blinked. Stiff and insistent and huge . All that from one kiss?

He gripped my hip again, but this time he put a breath of space between us. “Give me a minute,” he rasped, his hand still under my bra strap. “Then I’ll make your boy regret his entire existence.”

I glanced up at him but found him staring at my breasts. This dress did have a certain milkmaid quality so I couldn’t blame him. Though I didn’t mind the attention just as I didn’t mind the strong, sudden reaction to that kiss. Not when it made me feel like I’d been plugged in and turned back on after months—years?—of waiting for someone to finally see me. To want me, exactly as I was.

“He’s not my boy,” I said, running my knuckles along the scruffy line of his jaw. “He’s not mine at all.”

“Good.” Ryan pulled me back to him again, a growl low in his throat. “Because I don’t share.”

There were two things I knew to be true right now.

First off, my husband was a really good guy. Probably the best guy. If there was a ranking system for this sort of thing, my guy would be at the top of the chart all day every day.

Two hours into this party, he was still taking photos, answering every random question thrown at him, and recounting his most recent championship win down to the minute. There was one point when he couldn’t remember something about a play and called up Hersberler, put him on speaker, and had the tight end tell the story from his side of the field.

Ryan had so thoroughly captivated everyone that Grace, Audrey, Jamie, and I parked ourselves at the island with our bottomless margaritas and decimated the charcuterie. It was mostly margarita for me since I’d sampled enough of the cheese board while preparing it and that was just fine by me.

I kept seeing big, rugged firefighters share bright, soulful expressions and a shake of their head like Can you believe we’re talking to Ryan Ralston? They slapped each other on the back or landed light blows on biceps when he revealed some insider info or said something like, “I had no idea whether that move would work but I was fucking thrilled when it did” or “That one was all luck. I couldn’t have called that play if I’d tried.”

Everyone except Teddy.

No, like the toenail fungus he was, he lingered on the fringe of the group and made himself look busy with his phone or the grill or literally anything else. He slid between scowling at Ryan and leaning one ear in to hear more of his stories.

It was almost funny. I couldn’t drop all of my resentment to embrace that humor but it was enough. It was what I’d needed from today.

Until I raided Grace’s medicine cabinet for anything to turn off these allergies and found myself staring at the woman last seen half naked in Teddy’s apartment. I hadn’t noticed her in the crowd though I’d never thought to look.

She was wearing more clothes now which was a nice change of pace but it forced me to notice that we had quite a lot in common. She was a couple of years younger than me but we were both short and dark-haired, full in the bust and fond of sundresses that showed it off.

And we both wore engagement rings.

Mine lazed toward my pinkie like usual and hers…well, I’d seen hers before.

Heat burned in my cheeks. I glanced away, motioning down the hall as I tried to squeeze into the slip of space between us. “Sorry. It’s all yours.”

But she blocked the way, saying, “Hi. I don’t think we’ve met. Not the right way. I’m Clara.”

“Clara,” I repeated, my lips a tight line that couldn’t pretend it was a smile. “Emme.”

“I know,” she said. “And I’m so sorry about—about everything.”

I drew in a breath and stared down the hall, mentally willing anyone to come and rescue me. A long moment passed and I resigned myself to the fact I was stuck in this quicksand conversation. With a steadying breath, I forced myself to face her. My lips parted but nothing came out. Except a gross, wet sniffle.

Clara twined her fingers together as she hurried to say, “You should know it was my fault. I never asked Teddy whether he was seeing anyone else and I should’ve.”

I’d never blinked so hard at anyone in my life. “Excuse me, what?”

“If I expect monogamy in a relationship, I have to ask for it,” she went on. “I didn’t and”—she shot me a small, pitying glance that made me want to rip the shingles off this house—“I guess you didn’t either. I’m so sorry that we found ourselves on either side of that situation. I didn’t want that and I hate that you were hurt in the process. I would’ve ended things with him if I’d known.”

“You don’t think he shares any of the responsibility?”

Her tanned shoulders rolled in an easy, unbothered gesture. “He could’ve said something sooner. He knows that was a mistake.”

My heartbeat thundered in my chest. I couldn’t comprehend how it was merely a mistake to her when that betrayal had overturned my entire life. “Then you’re aware that he doesn’t prioritize monogamy in a relationship. You know who he is,” I snapped, “and you’re still marrying him.”

She glanced down at her ring. “Yeah, I do. And I am.”

Clara finally stepped back, giving me enough room to get past her. But I studied her, desperate to understand how we could experience the same event in such wildly different ways.

Maybe I was wrong about it all. Maybe I was the presumptuous fool who’d never thought to ask whether we were seeing other people. We’d only been together for a year. What if I thought I deserved more than I did? The relationship had obviously meant much more to me than him so it would stand to reason that I’d just inflated the importance all around.

“Anyway, I just wanted to say hi and clear the air,” Clara said. “We’ll probably run into each other a lot and I hope we can be friends or something like that. Someday.”

A loud cheer went up from the direction of the backyard and then a roar quickly followed. I had no idea what they were doing out there but I knew that like all great quarterbacks, Ryan—the best guy—was behind it. I also knew my ex, the one who’d convinced this woman it was pretty much okay for him to cheat because she hadn’t asked a precise sequence of questions, was probably off kicking rocks in the corner.

At least there were those silver linings.

After a soft laugh toward the backyard, Clara glanced toward me. “I am sorry about how it happened and I wanted you to know it was unfair and wrong.”

Those words weren’t meant to wound me. The opposite, I was sure. They weren’t meant to poke at the scabbed-over places where I’d folded in on myself just to get through the worst of it.

Yet all I could think was that revenge hardly mattered.

I’d hardly mattered, not if Teddy had planned to marry this woman all along and I’d been nothing more than the girl he hung out with when he wanted good food, fresh laundry, and a target for his shitty comments. Wasn’t that the truth of it?

Another cheer spilled in through the open windows. I rubbed the band of my ring as I listened for more. Ryan probably had them doing combine drills. I’d bet anything he was sitting back with a beer and watching while these guys ran through ladder holes or sprinted the length of the backyard while dragging a loaded ice chest. And I loved him for it.

When I didn’t respond, she asked, “Don’t you think it all worked out for the best?”

If I looked at it a certain way, I could see what she meant. I’d stopped waiting on a douchebro who had zero fucks to give me and upgraded to a man who thought nothing of carrying my plump ass down five flights of stairs when my dress was too tight and begged me to let him fuck me last night.

But just like everything else in my life, it wouldn’t last.

I plopped myself between Grace and Jamie at the island and played at being distracted with my phone until I saw Clara return to the patio a few minutes later.

With a not so gentle elbow, I nudged Grace. “You forgot to mention the part where Teddy’s engaged these days.”

“He’s what?” she yelped. “Since when?”

“I didn’t get the whole proposal story from Clara on account of her ambushing me in the hall just now. She wanted to apologize to me. Since she was the one I found in bed with him and all.”

Jamie pushed to her feet and craned her neck to survey the group outside. “Where is she? Never mind, I’ll know. But don’t forget y’all have to bail me out if this goes bad. I don’t like spending the night in jail.”

“Nothing is going bad because you’re sitting down and not starting anything.” I grabbed her skirt and pulled her onto the stool. With a wad of cocktail napkins in hand to deal with my runny nose, I said, “She was actually very nice and sweet, which I hate violently. She didn’t have to approach me or apologize but she did, even if she’s not the one who should be handing out the apologies.”

“I didn’t know,” Grace said. “I would’ve warned you if I did.” She stared off toward the patio. “Ben would’ve heard about it if I’d known.”

I glanced outside to where strings of lights on the pergola glowed in the evening darkness. Ryan talked with a few people near the grill while watching while guys took turns box-jumping onto an ice chest. I reached for the margarita pitcher and topped off my glass. He wasn’t dying of grouchy man misery and he was grown enough to tell me when he was done being the center of attention. “I know.”

They studied me as I sipped my drink, and after a few moments of tense silence punctuated only by my nose-blowing, Jamie launched into a story about a sex party she attended where everyone wore varying amounts of bunny costumes.

“I went with a tail for obvious reasons,” she said, “but then?—”

“No, wait.” Audrey held up both hands. “What are the obvious reasons?”

Jamie stared at Audrey like the answer was about to slap her in the face and she just needed to think about it for a second. When Audrey only shook her head, Grace added, “You’re gonna have to walk us through it, honey.”

With a goofy eye roll, Jamie zigzagged a finger over her torso. “There are only two ways to wear a tail. One of them is a G-string. The other”—she glanced between us, still hopeful we’d figure it out—“is a butt plug. Which is my preference.”

Audrey lifted her glass to her mouth and drained the contents while Grace laughed.

“I will definitely regret this,” I started, going back for another refill, “but why?”

“It’s a lot of fun,” Jamie said. “And I don’t feel like I have a wedgie the whole time.”

“No, not a wedgie but a whole… thing up there,” Grace cried.

“That’s the fun part,” Jamie replied. “Trust me on this! You might not think you’re into it but then you get a little toy and you realize it’s a spicy good time.”

“No—hold on. Stop. Where are your clothes?” Audrey asked.

“I’m not wearing any,” Jamie said, laughing.

Audrey’s mouth fell open. “Why not?”

“Because I’m there for a double stuffing of dick,” she replied. “Triple, if I like anyone enough to let them take the plug out of my ass.”

A throat cleared behind us and we all turned at once to see Ryan staring at us, his arms crossed and his eyes narrowed. I started to laugh but a sloppy, tequila-flavored hiccup burst out of me instead as the liquor plowed into me all at once.

“All right there, Muggsy?”

I lifted my fist of napkins and almost empty glass in a wobbly salute and hiccuped again. “As good as I’m gonna get.”

“Why does he call you that?” Audrey asked. “What does Muggsy mean?”

Ryan’s brow lifted as he crossed the room toward me. Once he had a hand settled low on my back, he frowned down at me and brushed a thumb over my cheek. “You want to tell them? Or should I?”

“It’s a dumb, tragic story.” I shook my head but that sent everything swimming. I felt a hand on my shoulder, then sliding up and down my arm. “When I registered for school in New Hampshire, my name got messed up on the paperwork. Every year, on every teacher’s class roster, it was Emmugglas. Like, Emme and Douglas smashed together for no good reason. They tried to correct it in the student database a million times but it never stuck. At graduation, they literally called Emmugglas Ahlborg.”

“And everyone called you Muggsy because of that?” Jamie asked.

“No, they called me Bitsy, short for Big Tits, because everyone felt it was best to identify people by cup size. It sounds bad but let me tell ya, I had it better than the gal they called Beesting.” I pointed at Ryan though I didn’t do it well because he caught my wrist and brought it to my lap. “He’s the only one who never called me Bitsy.”

They stared at me for a moment. At least it seemed that way. I was having a very hard time focusing on anything right now.

Then, Audrey said, “I don’t like any of that.”

“Such misogynistic bullshit,” Grace muttered.

“At least Daddy Football didn’t sexually harass her,” Jamie said.

“He didn’t. Not even once.” I shifted to stare up at him but his features all swam together. “I always hoped he’d slip up so I could make him admit he’d noticed me like that. Never did. Never ever ever.”

I tried to loop an arm around his waist but lost my bearings and started to slip off the stool. Everyone cried out and rushed forward as Ryan caught me but the room never did stop spinning.

“What’s going on with you?” He took a sip from my glass and grimaced. “Is this all you’ve had tonight? Any water? Food?”

“I’ve had all the broken crackers and a couple different allergy pills. And some Manchego.”

“Allergy meds and margaritas are a special combo,” Jamie murmured. “Especially if you enjoy sleeping like the dead.”

Ryan braced himself behind me, an arm low around my waist and the other gripping the island as if I needed a guardrail. “Right. Okay. I’m taking you home now. Where’s your bag?”

Grace hopped up. “I’ll get it and follow you outside.”

“But I need to hear about Jamie’s bunny sex party,” I argued.

“I got railed like six times and couldn’t remember where I put the butt plug so I left without it,” Jamie said with a limp fist pump. “It filled someone’s goody bag.”

“And you enjoyed all of that?” Audrey asked.

“It was okay. Most of the fun was getting ready and then walking around, seeing what was going on and what everyone was doing.”

“Walking around naked,” Audrey said.

Jamie grinned. “Yes, my darling, confirming once again I was bare as a babe.”

Audrey circled both hands. “And that was the fun part?”

“Yeah. I mean, the sex was…fine. Nothing to check off the vision board but good enough. Then I woke up the next day with another UTI,” she said. “Just a standard Saturday night for me.”

“I bake bread on Saturday nights,” Audrey said.

“You could come to a meet-up with me and see what it’s like to have dozens of people fantasizing about you at the same time. It does wonders for the ego.”

“I think I’m okay with the bread,” Audrey replied.

“Whatever makes you happy, love,” Jamie said. “I just want you to know there’s someone out there who wants to butter that bread of yours.”

“You really are a good friend,” Audrey breathed.

“It’s one of my many gifts,” Jamie said.

Ryan cleared his throat. “Anything else you need?” he asked me.

“I’m sure there’s more,” I said, though I could hear the slur in my words now. Did I really drink that much? I didn’t think so. Those glasses weren’t especially big. There’d been some refills but—and what time was it? “We have really important things to talk about, you know.”

“I know it, baby, but it’s late and I want you to get some rest.”

I bobbed my head. “If you say so.”

“You’re following directions now?” I felt his lips on my forehead. “That’s new.”

“Just like my shoes,” I drawled. “And everything else because my house is a watery grave.”

He pulled me to my feet and steered me toward the door as I called out my good-byes. When we reached the front steps, he said, “I love these shoes, Em, but you’re gonna roll an ankle if I let you take another step. I’m going to carry you to the car. Hold on.”

I tried to summon an argument for this but my eyelids refused to stay open and my mouth was like limey cotton. I felt him scoop me up, and then a blink later I heard the seat belt click around me. Another blink and the highway was flying past my window.

I turned my heavy head and stared at him. My husband . His jaw was like granite again. “Are we exclusive?”

He looked over, his brows pinched together and his forehead creased. His scowl was a harsh, irritable line dug into his face. “We’re fucking married , Emmeline. Yeah, we’re exclusive.”

“Okay. Were we exclusive before that? Before last night?”

“We’ve been exclusive since the night I asked you to marry me.” He shook his head. “Why would you even ask me something like that?”

I sank deeper into the seat and tucked my arms close to my chest. My eyes drifted shut again and I couldn’t fight it off. “Because I learned two things today and one of them is that people will cheat unless you tell them not to.”