Chapter 18
EMMA
M-
From the moment we met, I knew you were it for me. But we come from two different worlds that are determined to keep us apart. I promise you I will find a way for us to be together. Don’t give up hope.
Stay safe and know I’m thinking of you always.
J
The letter shows up under the door of my dorm room on the last day of school. I don’t recognize the handwriting on the envelope. I rip open the door and look around, but the hallway is empty.
I read it half a dozen times, but I only grow more confused with each reading.
Was I the intended recipient? It’s addressed to “M,” which I guess could be a nickname for Em, but I search my brain for who the “J” could be and come up short.
I don’t know anyone with a J name that would write me a letter like this.
And the only person on campus that I have any sort of romantic connection to is Trent who never expressed such intense feelings for me.
Could it be from Daddy Dom? And could his name start with a J? I think about texting Alyx, but that man’s a vault, and I know he won’t tell me even if I did guess.
It feels like something Daddy Dom would say, but given the fact that he broke up with me and hasn’t returned any of my calls or texts, I doubt it’s him. Plus, he lives an hour away in Columbus.
Regardless of who sent it and whether I was the intended recipient, it breaks my heart to read, so I stuff it in my bag along with all my feelings as I pack up my dorm room and remind myself to schedule another appointment with my therapist. I have too much to cover with her lately.
——————
It’s early June when I get a text from Ethan asking me to bring him groceries while he recovers from his vasectomy.
I moved back into Mom and Dad’s after finals, and I haven’t left my room in days.
And while I’m thrilled to finally be done with Professor A-hole, I’m reeling over the loss of Daddy Dom.
What is wrong with me? I never even saw the man’s face, never heard his real voice, and I don’t know his real name. So how can it hurt this bad when I don’t know who he really is?
Because he saw the real me. Not the version of me I show to the world. The real me, broken and messy. And I thought he wanted me anyway, but his abrupt dismissal of me still has me reeling weeks later.
Ethan
Make sure you get everything on the list. We’re making one of Nonna’s recipes tonight. You’re welcome to join us.
I don’t want to drive an hour to you. Can’t you just use a delivery service?
I could, but then I wouldn’t get to see you.
Mom or Ella?
Huh?
Which snitch texted you?
I don’t know what you’re talking about.
Cut the crap, Ethan.
Since when are you this bossy?
ETHAN
Mom. She said you haven’t left your room in days. And she’s been bringing you food. Come over and cook with us. I’d come get you, but I just had surgery and can’t drive.
Ugh, fine. Just text me the list.
After I pick up everything on Ethan’s list, drop it at his place, and unexpectedly cry in his girlfriend’s arms, my plans change for the night.
Bridget and Ethan have been cooking some of Nonna’s recipes lately, and Ethan’s lounging on a stool, an ice pack on his crotch, bossing me and Bridget around in the kitchen.
The two of them are ridiculously cute, and it’s a stark reminder of how alone I am, hence the spontaneous tears.
The only man that’s ever been able to touch me walked away without a second glance.
It hurts how easily he was able to do that, like our time together meant nothing to him when it meant everything to me.
“So what are your plans this summer?” Bridget asks as she snuggles into Ethan’s side on the couch.
“Hellcat,” he warns, “I’m going to need you to sit somewhere else. No snuggling against me until I’m fully healed.”
“Ugh, you two are so cute, it’s gross,” I bemoan.
“He’s just being a baby. Vasectomies are very common procedures.” Bridget moves over to the loveseat next to me as Ethan swings his legs onto the couch, readjusting his frozen peas. She looks at me expectantly.
“I’m taking a couple summer classes, but nothing other than that.”
“How are you with kids?” she asks. “My best friend Becka is looking for a sitter to help with her daughter. It could turn into more than the one night since they don’t have a lot of options with their families, and Ethan and I aren’t always available.”
“I’d love to,” I say before she can give any other details. This could be the perfect distraction to take my mind off my pathetic love life.
“Great. Can I give her your number?”
“Sure. Now, I believe I was promised face masks, and I really need to see Ethan in one. Ella is never gonna let him live it down. She still has pics of the makeovers we gave him on her phone as blackmail.”
“Oh, he still has those on his phone too. You girls made him look very pretty.” She laughs as Ethan smiles at her.
Once we eat and don our face masks, I turn on a movie and settle into the couch. I can feel my brother staring out of the corner of my eye, and once Bridget excuses herself to use the bathroom, I pause the movie and glare at him. “What is it?”
“What’s what?”
“The reason you’re staring at me. You’re doing that thing you do where you stare at me as if you can hear my thoughts.”
“I heard about what happened with your dad,” he admits quietly.
“What? How?” My cheeks pinken at the thought of my mom sharing this with him.
“I was picking Lizzy up to take her to therapy, and overheard Mom telling Dad about it in the kitchen.”
My nerves ease slightly at his words.
“Are you still having nightmares?”
I sigh. “They started up again recently. My therapist said it’s just my body’s way of watching for danger.
She said I’m not going to erase my triggers overnight, but I need to trust that when they do occur that I’m not letting them define me.
But it’s hard not to feel discouraged. Once I knew who was haunting my dreams, I’d hoped they would stop.
But it doesn’t work that way.” I don’t tell him that a new masked figure has been making guest appearances in my recent dreams.
“I’m so sorry you’re dealing with that but thank you for sharing it with me. Need me to look up some resources for you?”
I smile at his offer. He does this for Lizzy too. She shows an interest in something, and he learns everything he can about it. She has a problem, and he’s looking for solutions on every corner of the internet. “I’m good. But could I stay here tonight?” I ask through a yawn.
——————
He looms over me as sweat trickles down my back.
I take off in a sprint, my heart beating wildly in my chest. I climb the stairs two at a time, then race down the hall into the nearest bedroom.
There’s not even time to shut the door behind me.
I can hear his footsteps, practically feel his hot breath on my neck.
I make it into the closet, but before I can shut the door behind me, a hand snakes in, grabbing hold of my ankle, pulling me out.
I try to kick with my free leg, but I can’t see, can’t make contact with anything.
The carpet drags against my skin as I flip onto my stomach, grabbing at anything I can find to hold onto, but I lose the game of tug-of-war we’re playing.
There’s no point in trying to fight it. I lay there motionless as he straddles the backs of my thighs, pressing his hard body against mine. “You can’t escape me. Stop trying.”
Goosebumps prickle my arms as he slowly traces his fingers along them. I can feel my panties dampen at his touch.
Strong arms slide under my torso, flipping me onto my back. I peer up at him, anxious to finally see his features, but the room is too dark and his face is in shadow. His rough palm cups my cheek, and I let out a stuttered breath.
He leans down and I can feel his lips brush my skin as he speaks.
“Let me take care of you. Open your legs.” My obedience is on autopilot as I widen my thighs so he can settle between them.
He pushes my skirt up before trailing down to trace the side of my panties, running a finger along the crease of my leg as a shudder rocks through me.
I’m all frantic need and anticipation as he slowly lowers his head, pushes my panties to the side, and licks me.
It’s relentless, all-consuming, and a rush of heat courses through me.
He sets a steady pace, flicking and rolling his tongue against me, applying firm pressure on the spot I need it most as I buck against him.
When his head pops up, I whine, groping around in the darkness so I can push his mouth back where I want it. Where I need it.
“Use me. Show me exactly where you want it most. Let me hear how needy you are for me to make you come. Soak my face, drench my fingers, make me taste you for days.”
I can hear the wicked grin in his voice, feel the smirk in his dirty words.
And then he’s moving back to my core, pressing his face against me as he tortures me with that filthy tongue.
My fingers thread through his hair as I move him to the exact spot I need and begin rocking against him, taking what I want.
“Oh yeah, right there.” His mouth feels amazing, and I can feel my orgasm building as I writhe underneath him. “Please, sir, please make me come.”
His mouth feels incredible, like a dream. Better than any of my toys. How is this possible? How can it feel this good? How could he walk away from me?
“Emma,” he says, still buried between my thighs as he gently kisses me, dragging his tongue along me in long, slow licks that feel like a massage.
I’m still pulsing, my orgasm refusing to let up as I convulse against him.
“I can’t… please… I can’t stop—”
“Emma!” a loud voice booms.
I bolt upright, stunned from the abrupt noise. When my eyelids flutter open, I wince in pain. They’re puffy and swollen from crying and it feels like I have a hangover but I haven’t been drinking. When fat tears fall down my cheeks seconds later, they burn against my tired skin.