Chapter 8 - Emma
Of course my dad would invite August over for lunch. August is his best friend after all. Now that I've talked more with August, I can understand why they are best friends. I never spent much time with August and he always seemed to be in a bad mood when I did. Even with the crush I secretly harbored on him, I couldn’t understand why my dad, who’s always in a good mood, would be best friends with someone so grumpy. But I get it now. August is thoughtful and kind and it's clear he is someone you can rely on. I just wished he'd turn down his friend request for lunch. Not that it's possible to ever turn down my mom's tacos. I'm salivating just at the thought.
I stew this over while maintaining a calm posture. My dad can be incredibly perceptive and I don't want him to meddle. Plus, I'm unsure what he would do if he found out we just kissed.
It'll probably never happen again, not after August's rejection. It's clear he enjoyed our kiss as much as I did but he said it was a bad idea. Why was it a bad idea? Because of me? Because of my father? Or because of something else I don't know about him? Why do I feel so hurt about his rejection? Even more so than being stood up last night where every couple around my table was pitying me? A part of me knows why. Well, all of me knows why but it's so hard to accept it. Have I truly fallen in love this fast for August? Is it possible? Is it possible to feel this right with him? To want to trace every single inch of his body while learning every single thing about him?
Wait. This doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t. And yet, my heart refuses to accept the rational explanations I keep throwing at it—refuses to acknowledge that what I’m feeling can’t possibly be real. But the truth is, it feels undeniable. It doesn’t matter how little time I’ve spent with him. What matters is this overwhelming pull toward him, a force I can’t ignore, no matter how hard I try.
A sadness washes over me, remembering I'll have to endure this lunch even with this new found knowledge. I feel my stomach tighten and I'm no longer hungry, not even my mom's tacos can fix this. It's just a couple of hours at most, then he'll be gone from my life. Our paths rarely crossed before, they won't start now.
The clouds get darker and darker as we drive to my parents and by the time we park outside their place, it seems a snowstorm has set in. The wind howls, whipping around the car and rattling the windows and I'm glad we're not that far from the front entrance. I turn to see where August parked but I can't see anything with the snow clouding my view.
We get out of the car and run towards the door. In just those thirty seconds, I'm covered in snow. My mom greets us with a warm smile and, despite everything that's happened today, I'm glad I'm here. She is my rock.
It doesn't take long for August to join us but it doesn't take a genius to see he parked farther away. He looks in a rougher shape than we do, his beard caught some of the snowflakes and it makes me want to touch it again, the way his eyes seem wilder now, is enough to make my knees wobble. When I realize I've been staring at him, I shift my attention somewhere else.
"You're drenched! Take a quick shower!" My mom fusses over him as she drags him towards the stairs.
"There's really no need Delilah, I'll shower when I get home."
"No. You're not sitting in my dining room like this. Go!"
He glances at me for a quick second, almost telling me he's just figured out where my stubbornness came from. She shoves him gently. "Come on!"
He does what he's told while my dad and I take off our shoes.
"And you two, you need to at least change your clothes. Go ahead while I finish lunch."
There's not a chance we will do anything other than what my mom is asking. We both do what we are told because we want her in a good mood.
Once I'm back in my old bedroom, surrounded by everything I loved as a teenager, I strip off my clothes and quickly change into a cozy wool dress. It's the one I always wear on Christmas, a little tradition I hope to carry on for years to come. I only take it out once or twice a year to keep it special, ensuring it stays perfect for the holidays.
When I'm downstairs, I ask my mom if she needs any help.
"I bet your father forgot to hand over clothes to August, and now he's taking his sweet time in the bathroom like it’s not lunchtime," she grumbles. Her tone is sharp, but I can tell she’s not really upset, her movements still light and happy. She’s never in a rush for lunch on weekends. But if the tacos were ready, my dad would definitely be in trouble right now.
"Can you grab some clothes and bring them to the guest bathroom?"
I groan, I don't want to be close to August any more than I need to be. Having lunch with him around will already be torture.
One look from my mom and I turn around to go upstairs. With my dad's clothes in my hand, I knock on the guest bathroom door. "My mom asked me to bring you clothes."
"Come in."
The bathroom is foggy with steam but I see August with just a towel wrapped around his waist and I can't think. His neck tattoo spreads across his chest joining several other tattoos, his arms are also full of them and they suit him. He is bulky, toned in a way that seems impossible, every single muscle in his chest is too perfect. I urge myself not to look lower.
"Emma," he pleads.
"I will leave your clothes here," I point to a chair that's by the door. But before I'm able to do anything, he closes the distance between us and closes the door.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for saying it was a mistake."
My eyes widen with his apology.
"Nothing I ever share with you could ever be a mistake," Why does that make me feel so much? Is it the way he said it? The way his voice rasped? Or is this hope gathering inside of me? "I didn't want you to feel like I'm taking advantage of you."
"I'm making my own choices August."
"I know that. I wanted to give you a way out, anyway. I don’t think I’m the guy you should be with."
"Let me be the one to decide that. You wanted to give me a way out or to give yourself a way out?"
"Touché." He smirks. "You get me in a way I never thought anyone would." He inhales.
"You want this?" He lowers his head, staring at me, his arm leaning against the door cornering me. But it's not threatening, I love being in this cage, feeling the heat radiating from him. "It will be hard for me to stop if we do this. Because I fucking want you, Emma."
That triggers a small spasm exactly where I need him to touch me.
"You do?" I reply with the hint of a challenge make myself a bit more difficult, mostly because I want to hear him say it again.
"You have no idea."
I close the distance between us, kissing him and this kiss is completely different from earlier, there's roughness in every single touch, our tongues clash, there's a feverish electricity running through us, our bodies get closer, my hands roam every inch of his muscled back and when I'm too desperate to just kiss, I grab his towel but he grabs my wrist in return.
"No, no." He is nothing like the August I've seen before, he looks devilish. "First, you." He wraps his arms around my thighs and hauls me until I’m sitting on top of the washbasin.
"Your dress last night drove me crazy. And now you're once again in a dress. It's pure torture, Emma."
I kiss him, anticipation killing me.
Gently, he removes my soaked panties and gets down on his knees. "Can you spread your legs for me, Baby?"
"You are perfect. I knew you would be. Look at how wet you are." He uses two of his fingers to slide my wetness over my clit, I whimper.
He stands up to kiss me, it's chaste and unbelievably tender until I open my mouth to receive him and he doesn't hesitate to stroke my tongue, to bite my lip lightly. When his fingers enter me, a moan escapes me.
"You need to be quiet, can you do that for me?"
Fuck. How did I forget that my dad is next door? And my mom is downstairs? But I don't want this to stop, so I nod.
He gets another finger in and I bite down my lip hard trying to be as quiet as I can.
"Your pussy feels so nice, is this good for you? Can I taste you?" His voice is a whisper, but it doesn't erase any of its impact. I nod, not knowing how to communicate how much I need him.
He gets down on his knees again and he doesn't stop to admire it again, he immediately gets to work, I feel his tongue swirling around my clit, his beard rough and making each wave of pleasure feel more potent.
"You're doing so well." I grab the sides of the washbasin as I sense myself getting closer and closer. He can see that too but he doesn't move any faster, he knows somehow that won't do for me. Instead he slows down, enough to send me into overdrive, to heighten every single sensation caused by his tongue. I thrust against his mouth as my orgasm explodes, leaving me wrecked, I whimper to hush the scream that's bottled inside of me. When I come down from the high, the washbasin seems terribly uncomfortable suddenly and August is quick to notice, carrying me to the chair. Just as he drops me, we hear a knock.
"August, are you ready? The girls must be waiting downstairs."
I tense up, forgetting to breathe for a second. What would my dad say if we told him we were together? Would he freak out? Would he support us? Why am I getting ahead of myself? We haven't defined this. He told me he wants me but that was purely physical, it doesn't mean he wants, wants me.
"I'll be out in a second."
When I hear my dad's footsteps on the stairs, a wave of relief washes over me, and I finally let myself relax.
August looks shyly at me, like he remembers the dirty talk and what he’s just done to me. It's adorable to see him come back to himself. He shakes his head.
"You are going to ruin me."
I let out a giggle, feeling all warm inside.