Chapter Six
Emma
“I ’m going to do everything I can to take care of you.”
Reid’s words are on repeat inside my head. For someone like Mom, it would be relieving to hear something like that. However, I’m not like my mom. I already feel like a burden to Reid. Now it’s as if he’s obligated to help me out because he’s a good guy.
I hate that.
I hate that my mother put us in this position.
I hate that I see Reid as far more than my mom’s boyfriend.
It’s been over a week since the “separation” with him and Mom.
They pass like two ships in the night. Her efforts to work less died after his conversation with her and she works now more than ever.
Me and Reid are back to being awkward roommates who run together each morning.
Thankfully, Cole has been with us all the other times.
The easygoing relationship I had with Reid, though, has soured. I see everything through the lens of him taking care of us and it maddens me. It’s probably why I’ve been taking on more hours with Ava and Quinn’s kids and even babysat for a few of their friends too.
I need space and money.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, jerking me out of my wandering thoughts. It’s a good thing too because my water is about to boil over. Ugh. Once I turn down the heat and make sure my noodles aren’t sticking, I check my phone.
Mom: My client is taking me to dinner tonight for my birthday. Smoke & Sugar. Yum! Now you don’t have to worry about doing anything for me. Love you.
Me: Okay. Love you too. Have fun.
The oven beeps letting me know the cake is done. I toss my phone onto the counter and grab an oven mitt to remove it. My heart aches inside my chest. So much for a birthday dinner together. I wish she’d told me about her plans before I’d gone to all this trouble.
I hurry back over to finish up dinner. As each second passes, I feel more and more sorry for myself. Why is Mom so absent lately? Why am I taking it so hard? Maybe this is how she copes with the separation from Reid. I just hate that it involves separating from me too .
“Something smells good.”
I shriek and whirl around in surprise, not expecting Reid to be standing there. How did he get inside the house without me noticing? And, judging from his still wet hair, he showered too. I must’ve been really in my head to not see him come home.
“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says with a chuckle and saunters over to the stove. “Spaghetti?”
“Brayden’s been teaching me other better stuff to cook, but this is Mom’s favorite.” I chew on my bottom lip and skim my gaze over all the birthday stuff I bought earlier. “I guess it was all for no reason.”
Reid steps away from the stove and frowns at me. “Why? It’s almost done and smells damn good. What time is Amara coming home? If you want me to leave so you two can have a private—”
“No,” I cry out, shaking my head. “She, uh, has other plans.”
His eyes narrow. “What do you mean?”
“It’s no big deal,” I mutter. “I just didn’t know her client was taking her to dinner.”
“Em,” he growls, crowding me with his massive frame. “I’m sorry.”
His words, coupled with his closeness and my disappointment, sends me over the edge. I feel like a child when I burst into tears. Reid gathers me in his strong arms, hugging me tight.
Truth is, Mom hurt my feelings.
Every year we spend our birthdays together. Spaghetti is her favorite meal that I’ve been cooking for her since I was old enough to work the stove. My favorite is enchiladas. She gets the chocolate cake, and I get the strawberry. It’s our thing. This year, for some reason, it’s not our thing.
The more I think about Mom’s behavior lately, the more I break apart in Reid’s arms. I hate that I’m soaking his T-shirt and clinging to him like he’s my lifeboat.
“You’re okay,” he croons, stroking his fingers through my hair with one hand and rubbing my lower back with the other. “I’ve got you now.”
He lets go of my back and I’m vaguely aware that he’s stirring the sauce, so it won’t burn.
“I need to clean my face,” I say against his chest. “I bet my mascara is everywhere.”
“Go wash up, dirty girl.” He gives my ass a playful smack. “I’ll finish up dinner.”
My face heats up as I hightail it out of the kitchen. Our hug went from comforting to flirty and I am not hating it whatsoever.
Mascara is indeed smeared all over my upper cheeks. I go ahead and wash all my makeup off for the day. It’s not like Reid hasn’t seen me without makeup. He gets to see the bare-faced, sweaty version every morning on our runs. When I return to the kitchen, he’s plating up our food.
“I’m starving,” he says, hazel eyes burning hot into me. “This smells so damn good.”
Me or the spaghetti?
I hurry to grab us a couple of sodas from the fridge and then some silverware. By the time we sit at the table, I’ve cooled off.
“I feel like I’ve barely seen you,” Reid says before shoveling in a bite of spaghetti.
“Babysitting.” I shrug my shoulders. “Gotta make that money.”
He frowns. “You’re still in school. You don’t have to. I can take care of you.”
I bristle at his words. “I don’t want you to.”
“Oh.” He tears his gaze from mine to study his plate. “Are you mad at me, Em?”
“Only when you think it’s your duty to be my provider.”
His head snaps up. “I see.”
“I’m not like her,” I tell him stubbornly. “I don’t use men to see what I can get out of them.”
“You’re just upset with her. You don’t mean that.”
I twist my spaghetti on my fork but can’t eat a bite yet. “Why are you defending her?”
“I’m not…” He sighs heavily and nudges my foot with his. “Look at me.”
I meet his tender gaze and soften. He flashes me a sweet smile that has my heart fluttering.
“Tell me what you want from me.” He bores his gaze into me. “I just want to make you happy.”
“I want to feel like I’m contributing,” I tell him with a lift of my chin. “Mom may be a freeloader, but I’m not. Now that I’m making money, I want to help out around here.”
“Okay,” he says slowly. “I can work on that.”
At least he’s going to try.
“How’s the babysitting going?” He goes back to eating, but his gaze never leaves mine.
I light up talking about my job. “I love it. The kids are so sweet. Word is getting around, too. I’m already booked out every weekend through Christmas with the Blakelys and their friends.”
“That’s great,” he says with a grin. “I’m proud of you for getting out there and booking clients.”
His words fill me up and I’m able to release some of the hurt and anger toward Mom while we chat.
Our conversation bounces around from my job to his property management to Brayden and the baby.
Dinner is nice. My stomach no longer roils with disappointment at having been stood up by my mother and I’m able to go back for seconds.
Later, while Reid does the dishes and puts the food away, I frost the cake. I’m not the best decorator, but it looks good enough to eat.
“Should we wait for her?” Reid asks, gesturing at the cake. “Or…”
“We’re going to eat it now.” I rip open a pack of birthday plates. “If she feels bad about it, then good. I felt bad when my mom chose her client over me.”
He nods in understanding. “Whatever you want, Em. ”
We cut into the cake and eat while standing in the kitchen. The cake is sweet and spongy. It’s perfect. Mom really missed out.
“You have frosting on your face,” Reid says, smirking.
I swipe at it with my thumb. “Did I get it?”
“Nope.”
After a few times of missing it completely, he steps forward and uses his thumb to wipe off the smear of chocolate. He holds up his thumb to show me. And, because I’m insane, I do something totally stupid.
I put my mouth around his thumb.
His eyes widen but he’s frozen in place. Then, I tentatively lick his calloused thumb, tasting the sweet icing there. A small groan escapes him. My core tightens at the sound.
Fire glimmers in his eyes and his thumb curls into my mouth, pressing my tongue down. With my chin in his firm grip, he tugs me closer until my breasts brush against his chest. He angles my head back so I’m staring up at him.
Is he going to kiss me?
Do I want him to?
Hell yeah, I do.
Buzzing from his pocket startles him from his hypnotic stare. He winces and then jerks away from me, releasing my mouth. I shudder at the loss of his touch .
“Uh, it’s my accountant calling,” he rasps out. “I’m expecting this call.”
Reid strides out of the kitchen, leaving me panting and aching for more. Would he have gone further had his phone not rang? Is he finally seeing me as more than a dependent in this house?
There was no denying the hunger in his expression.
For me.
It was slightly terrifying, but also exciting. There was an unhinged way he’d handled me.
Is he fierce in the bedroom?
Commanding and bossy?
Would he hold me down and tell me what to do?
He continues his conversation, laughing easily with the person on the other line. From his end, I think they’re going over rental income and his savings. It feels too private to listen in on. Plus, I have other needs to take care of.
When the accountant interrupted our charged moment, the instant flash of regret was there. I’m not delusional enough to think he’ll jump from my mom’s bed into mine. He may’ve gotten caught up in the flirting, but five bucks says he’s going to rein it in now.
He’s probably beating himself up while chatting up the accountant.
I tiptoe upstairs and then slip into my bedroom, closing the door behind me. My vibrator is stuffed in my nightstand drawer for occasions just as these. I shove down my sleep shorts and panties before crawling under the covers. The coolness on my naked skin sends shivers of desire through me.
The deep timbre of Reid’s voice can be heard downstairs, even with my bedroom door closed. I snatch my vibrator and slip it underneath the covers. With my thighs slightly parted, I turn on the vibrator and tease my clit with the tip of it.
Ohhhhh.
That feels good.
I try to imagine Reid’s mouth on me instead. That gets me worked up quickly. Heat burns over my flesh as I rub the vibrating rubber over my most sensitive area.
Will being with him always be a fantasy?
Would I ever have him inside me?
As my climax builds, I bite down on my bottom lip.
My eyes flutter closed, and I give in to the glorious sensation.
Pleasure detonates within me, sending pulses of bliss rippling through my every nerve ending.
And, before I come down from my high, I slide the fat head of the vibrator inside of me, imagining it were Reid stretching me instead.
Knock, knock, knock, knock.
I gasp in shock and barely get the thing turned off before the door opens.
“Sorry about that,” Reid says as he walks into my room. “Business.” His gaze roams over me and his eyebrows pinch together. “Going to bed so early?”
I’m unable to formulate any words. My vibrator is lodged inside me, my clit is still throbbing with pleasure, and my crush is standing over me.
He sits on the bed and pats my thigh, fingers just inches from my pussy. If he can see the vibrator under the blanket, he doesn’t let on. His gaze is on my eyes, searching as though he’s worried about how I’m feeling right now.
Turned on. Embarrassed. Needy as hell.
Heat burns my thigh where he’s resting his hand on it. My core clenches as though it knows there’s more fun to be had if only I’d turn on the vibrator again and get to fucking myself with it.
“Everything okay, Em?”
I manage a nod, lashes fluttering. “Yep.”
He stares at me for a beat longer and then his attention darts over to the open nightstand drawer.
Oh crap.
Slowly, he rises to his feet, head turning to where my shorts and panties lay discarded. Then, as if it all snaps into place like a wicked puzzle, he whips his gaze over to me.
My heart hammers in my chest.
“Oh fuck,” he hisses. “Sorry, I…fuck.”
I don’t miss the way his cock tents his basketball shorts, and from what I can see, he’s hung like a horse. He flees the room as if he’s been caught doing something awful. I’m so turned on, I barely wait for him to close the door before cranking the vibrator up full blast.
It’s shameful and twisted and embarrassing, but I kick the covers off, spread my legs, and fuck myself with the vibrator imagining every thrust is coming from him.
I’ll deal with the shame of this later.
Right now, I need to come. Again.
And maybe again and again and again until I pass out from exhaustion.