33. Garrett
GARRETT
Today has been awesome, the high from making music still coursing through my veins after saying goodbye to Lachlan and Maverick.
We’d still be playing if Maverick didn’t have to go pick up his daughter, but it feels good to be back in the game.
For so long, we’d been going through the motions but now—now it feels like I’m finally myself again.
I’m nearly to the kitchen when I stop in my tracks, finding Emerson in leggings and a sweatshirt making popcorn, and suddenly my good mood is at risk of taking a nosedive.
“Hey,” I call over the humming of the microwave, “did something happen with the paparazzi?” I know she’s home—here—early because we’d been diligently watching the clock for Mav.
“Are you busy?” she asks, an odd tone to the question, her smile not as bright as it usually is.
“No, I just finished up with the guys. You’re back early.” I try to keep my temper in check as she skips over my question. “Emerson, did something happen?”
“No. They were just there. All day. And I was worried.”
“About what?”
“About you! I was worried something happened to you and that’s why they were camped out. No one cares about me unless there’s something wild happening, but you smile the wrong way and it’s a news story!”
“Emerson—”
“No,” she says, holding her hands up, “I need a second. I was worried and you don’t understand how much that messed with me.”
My heart stutters in my chest, the feeling like the slow roll when you and your crush make eye contact across the room and then they blush and look down but you catch the tiniest smile.
It’s that because Emerson Andrews was worried about me.
Because she cares.
I’ve always known she likes me—kind of hard not to when our chemistry is off the charts. But this is different than just liking someone because you get along in and out of the bedroom.
No, she has feelings for me.
Actual feelings.
Her head dips as the microwave beeps and she pulls out the bag, the steam rising from the top as she pulls it open.
“When I was little, my dad used to set up these outside movie nights.” She lifts one delicate shoulder and lets it drop.
“I’ve been in a mood and thought a little nostalgia might help. Do you want to join me?”
My heart is at risk of hammering right out of my chest at the way she asks the question—shy and a little unsure and so fucking adorable.
But I have to play it cool because if I don’t, I’ll spook her.
“I would love to,” I say casually, looking down at my clothes with a small smile. “Is this all right or should I change?”
“Whatever you’re comfortable in.”
I’m most comfortable when I’m in you.
Normally, I wouldn’t hesitate to make the joke, but now doesn’t feel like the time.
“Do you need me to bring anything?”
“Just the drinks on the counter.” She motions at two glass bottles of soda, and I pick them up.
“Were you counting on me saying yes?”
“I was hoping but if you said no I’d just drink them myself.” I laugh as I follow her out the back door and into the yard, the tall white painted fence giving us privacy as I step out into something completely unexpected.
Twinkle lights are draped along one part of the fence with a large inflatable bed covered in white pillows and blankets I don’t think I own and one of those outdoor movie screens that I definitely don’t have.
“You did all this?” I ask, honestly shocked as I take in the bowls of candy and other snacks and lit torches to keep the bugs away.
“Theo did, but I made sure to send him to the spa after for all his hard work.”
“This is pretty amazing.” I don’t add that it’s not really dark enough to see the movie because I’m not convinced that’s the point.
Emerson needs comfort and she doesn’t know how to ask for it.
She can ask for sex, definitely, but this is different.
This is a hug in the form of an elaborate movie night.
“Do you want to know what we’re watching?” she asks as she makes her way over to the mattress, fussing with the pillows and patting the spot next to her.
“I think I’d like to be surprised,” I tell her as I slide in next to her, holding my arm up so she can snuggle against me.
And she does.
Her sigh is full of contentment as she rests the side of her face against my chest. “I hate feeling like this.”
“Cozy and relaxed?”
“Needy.” I expect her to pull away but she doesn’t, just burrows closer before throwing a leg over mine.
“Did something happen?”
“No, I just—I…missed you.” The admission sounds pained, and I can’t keep the smile off my face as I tip her chin up to look at me.
“That sounds horrible,” I offer sympathetically, leaning down to brush a kiss against her lips, the contact enough to make her melt into me—pliant and sweet and breathtaking.
“Sexy, distracting rock stars are not part of my plan, Mr. North.”
“Rock star.”
“What?” she asks distractedly as she finds the little black remote and hits play.
“Rock star. You said rock stars.” When she still looks confused, I roll her on top of me with a wolfish smirk as she yelps. “Just one, baby.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“Yes, but you like me.”
“I do and that’s the problem.” Instead of continuing the playfulness, she lowers her head to my chest, placing her ear over my heart. And just rests. I’m not sure she’s ever been this open with me, the weight of our arrangement clearly something she’s struggling with.
For the second time tonight, I have to bite my tongue because telling her that I don’t just like her because I’m in love with her is not what she needs to hear.
I hate how much that hurts.
But she commandeered Theo to create this magical little escape, so I’ll be what she needs tonight.
Not what I need.
I’m already too far gone.
“I can feel you thinking,” she whispers, the words almost drowned out by the romantic comedy playing in the background. It’s one I haven’t seen and probably won’t watch much of if Emerson’s mood is any indication.
And that’s fine by me.
“I’m trying to pick my words carefully,” I tell her, making sure she can hear the smile in my voice.
“Just say it.”
“I like being the beneficiary of you making yourself into a blanket,” I tell her and she snorts out a laugh.
“It’s not my fault you’re comfortable and”—she lets out a little growl when I wrap my arms around her, locking her to me and holding her tight—“this is perfect.”
“I know.”
“Don’t get cocky.”
“Says the woman who created a movie night wonderland in the backyard.”
“I just gave Theo the vision.” Pausing, she adds, “And my credit card.”
“I’ve never had an outdoor movie night.”
“You’re still not—we’re not watching the movie.”
“It’s the thought that counts.”
“Is it?” she asks, lifting up enough to look at me.
“It is.” Rolling us to the side, I tangle our legs together and cocoon her in my arms. “Because tonight feels pretty awesome with or without the movie.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because I missed you too.”
I missed you more than you’ll ever know.