Chapter 2

Emily

Flagstaff? Tomorrow?

The muscle between my eyes was tight and I focused on relaxing my frown before standing and following Rory into the kitchen. “I thought we were driving to San Diego?”

When Rory moved in, I wasn’t entirely sure what was going to happen between the two of us. We were friends but more…but still not quite everything. He was surprisingly easy to live with and he held up on his end of the bargain, or what he offered when he begged for me to allow him to stay.

He cooked, he cleaned, he grocery shopped.

He put the toilet seat lid down and replaced the toilet paper.

He even did my laundry, and hung my bras and laid out my shirts that needed to dry flat.

We did everything that couples did but have sex and I was pretty sure that was going to be happening sooner than later—sooner if I had a say.

There were only so many nights I could go with him wrapped behind me before I decided to take him in his sleep.

It didn’t appear that Rory was going to be making any moves. It looked like his ‘big move’ was the literal move of relocating. I had to kiss him first. I had to offer him half my bed.

Apparently I was going to have to undress him, too. That was ok; I had a plan.

With a silly grin on my face, I shook my head mentally. Not only did he help around the house, but he helped clear my mind of everything else because just like that, worry over a test I had in two weeks was pushed to the back of my mind.

It was still there, but it was no longer the forefront of my thoughts.

I knew I was a bit of a freak about studying but this degree was a big deal to me.

Yeah, the job came with a lot of zeroes behind the dollar sign, but more than that it was a career that I knew would keep me on my toes.

While I didn’t want my hands literally in a surgery, I liked the idea of helping out during traumas and run-of-the-mill surgeries.

“We are going to San Diego,” Rory said, his back still to me as he futzed with the stove top.

I sat at the high top style kitchen table and watched him.

His back muscles flexed under the fabric of his shirt and I wished I could put my hands on them.

Unfortunately, we weren’t to that point in our relationship…

friendship…whatever you wanted to call it. “But first, we’re going to Flagstaff.”

“What’s in Flagstaff?” I reached up to gather my hair but when I went to put it in a high bun, I realized I didn’t have my hair tie on me. Dammit Rory. I let my hair go and twisted it in a long coil, rolling it and twisting it into a true knot at the base of my head.

“Snow.”

“So we’re going to stop in Flagstaff on the way home for Christmas, for snow.”

“Mmhm.” Rory took the pot off the burner, shutting it down. He brought the hot pot to the sink to drain the water and I lifted my chin up to try and see what type of noodle was in the pot. Rory was pretty consistent with what he cooked.

Marinara only went with spaghetti or angel hair noodles. Alfredo or pesto only went with fettuccini. Macaroni was, obviously, mac and cheese, but Rory baked that. And rotini was buttered noodles.

Rory made a lot of noodles, but I didn’t have to cook so I wasn’t complaining.

Looked like buttered noodles it was tonight.

“When did you plan on telling me we were making a stop on the way?”

He transferred the noodles into a large bowl and walked to the fridge, pulling out an entire stick of butter. My eyes widened in fear he was going to use the full stick.

Only half went in.

Only half. I smiled to myself; because that was so much better.

“It’s just a night, Em.” He stirred the noodles and butter, the movement bringing my attention to the muscles corded in his forearm.

The very first weekend he was here, we went up to Sedona and did the tourist thing; it had been a lot of fun!

Shortly after that, the man tattooed the red rocks on his arm, saying tattoos were meant to be personal and that it signified a big life event for him.

It was hard not to look too far into that.

I mean, I knew his intentions; he hadn’t been quiet about that when he scared me in my garage last spring but hearing him say things like that did things to a girl, you know?

“Thought it would be a nice change,” he finished, turning to his spice rack—yes, his, because I didn’t do much beyond salt and pepper—and grabbing two glass jars. “It was meant to be a surprise but…” He didn’t measure the spices as he put them in.

Surprise, my left foot. Rory would be more upset if his “surprise” was ruined.

“I see,” I answered, a small smile on my face as I nodded slowly. Rory had something more up his sleeve, but what? “So what time are we leaving?”

“Probably ten?” Next he went into the fridge, pulling out a shredded white cheese mix.

I really enjoyed Rory’s buttered noodles. Garlic, salt, cheese…the works.

“Hey, can you do me a favor?” he asked as he finished mixing everything together and grabbed two bowls. “Double check the reservation.” He tipped his head toward his laptop.

He totally had something up his sleeve.

I stood and walked over to the counter where his laptop was set up.

On the screen was an email to a client and it gave me warm fuzzies inside.

Arizona was a big fitness place so it was definitely the right place for him to work on his own brand.

He’d been doing extremely well the last few months and I loved listening to him get excited about it.

The best parts though were when he got excited for his clients’ victories.

Rory was no longer the self-centered guy he was two years ago; just another reason why I was glad I decided to give him his chance.

“Where am I going?” I asked, my hands poised over the keys.

“Just my email. Double check that that email is saved though first then in search, find ‘confirmed trip.’” He started splitting the noodles into two bowls and I did as he asked. When the confirmation email appeared, I didn’t click into it, simply saying, “It’s there.”

He looked over at me before bringing the pot to the sink. “Open it and double check the time?” I swore I caught a cocky grin on his face as he turned his head away from me.

Although my eyes narrowed, I did as he asked. Quickly, the email loaded and soon the screen was filled with what had to be the most gorgeous one-room cabin I had ever seen.

“Oh my gosh,” I whispered, leaning into the counter.

I scrolled through the email, taking in the pictures.

Nestled in the pines with a panoramic view of the always snow-capped Humphreys Peak was a tiny wood cabin.

It looked cozy and warm, with its cute little wrap-around porch and on the inside, a large bed, a tiny kitchenette, and giant whirlpool tub.

It was incredibly romantic.

Maybe I won’t be the one to initiate sex after all…

I startled when Rory’s hands came to my hips, holding me in place as he rested his chin on my shoulder. “Merry Christmas, Em,” he whispered before running his tongue up the shell of my ear. After a quick nibble on the top, he stepped away, leaving me wanting more.

I wasn’t even sure that we were walking the fine line between friends and lovers any more. I was pretty sure we took the step over but were simply being cautious with the next leap.

“You’re going to relax tomorrow night,” Rory continued as he brought our bowls to the table.

“And then you’re going to spend Christmas Eve with your family relaxed, and Christmas day with my family, relaxed.

You can go back into frantic mad-woman mode on the 26th, but not a moment before.

” He turned toward me with his arms crossed over his chest, leaning back into the table.

“And it would be preferable if you waited until nine or ten in the morning, but I’d understand if you went all Cinderella and her pumpkin on me and busted out your study guides at midnight. ”

I laughed lightly. “You said no books and that we would study on New Year’s Eve.”

Rory lifted a brow. “Em,” he deadpanned. “You have that shit on your phone.”

He had a point, and he proved he knew me well. “I’ll wait until midday,” I said. “I’ll try anyhow.” I could put aside my studies for three and a half days. I could.

Before I pushed away from the counter and Rory’s laptop, it dinged with a notification. Rory jogged over in a comical, over-exaggerated way, and leaned around me to see. Why he didn’t move me out of the way was beyond me but I liked these little moments.

“Gotta close up my clients for the holiday,” he mumbled, both his arms around me as his fingers played over the keyboard and touchpad, opening up the latest notification.

The email opened; it was an ordinary email and I wasn’t about to be nosy so I wasn’t going to read it, but as soon as the page fully loaded, showing a picture at the bottom of the page, my eyes dropped to it.

Who was sending Rory pictures?

And of…

Puppies?

“Fuck,” Rory mumbled behind me, slamming down the top of his laptop. I frowned over my shoulder at him. An email, pictures of puppies, and that reaction? What in the world?

“Let’s eat,” he said, not elaborating on what the heck just happened and instead, tapping my hip and walking toward the table.

“Rory?” I walked slowly toward the table, climbing into my seat.

“Spam,” he said, looking down at his bowl as he grabbed a napkin from the center of the table. He picked up his fork and took a giant mouthful of noodles. “There’s some Trojan going around right now with pictures. Heard about it yesterday.”

I nodded once slowly, trying hard to contain my grin.

Sure, Rory…

He was a terrible liar.

“Don’t you think we should talk about pets before you actually go and get one?” I asked him, seeing right through the man’s bull.

His green eyes stared through me as he chewed. He was thinking really hard and it made me a little giddy. We were getting a puppy! It was one of his argument points when he first arrived out here; I should have known it was going to happen sooner or later.

Cabin retreat, puppy, going home for the holidays…

A girl could get used to this treatment.

“I knew you’d get excited and want one, but the woman only had one and Con asked me to pick the pup up on the way to San Diego. It’s for the kids. We’ll pick her up after we leave your parents.”

My excitement fell. “Oh,” I said, my fork playing in my noodles.

“It’s probably not a great time to get a dog anyway.

” I speared a noodle and smeared it around the bowl, scooping up any seasonings that stuck to the sides.

“Maybe in the summer. Not that summer semester is any lighter than the regular school year.”

Rory’s socked foot found my shin under the table, where he lightly kicked me twice. “We can leave our number with this lady and maybe the next litter we can pick one out.”

I nodded a few times, bringing the seasoned noodles to my lips. “Sure.” I closed my mouth around the fork, hoping that we could be done with that conversation. I didn’t know why I was so disappointed.

We were living together, but it was my name on the lease. We kissed and hugged and did couple-y things, but we weren’t really a couple. I guess maybe getting a dog would feel like a step in the couple-y direction. A semi-long-term type commitment.

Seven short months ago, I left Rory—a co-worker slash friend—and San Diego behind, intent on starting a new life with bigger dreams and aspirations than I had ever set out to accomplish before.

Then he was here, asking to prove that he could be the commitment type and pretty much on a whim, and totally out of character, I gave him the chance.

And now I wanted some sort of sign that long-term was doable with this man.

Maybe it was because I knew who Rory had been.

In the past, he wouldn’t wait even two days to take a girl to bed.

Him waiting the weeks I put him through had been a big deal for him.

Now, not only had he grown up and showed he could be a real live adult, he waited twenty-five months—and counting—to take what we had to the next level.

Me going that long without sex was no big deal, but Rory? The man who had been a man-whore two years ago? I guess maybe I was comfortable with our arrangement but feared that he would get antsy.

I liked what we found together over these last few months. I liked the comfort and the ease, and I wasn’t entirely sure what I would do if he decided that Arizona—that I—wasn’t enough for him anymore.

“We’ll get a dog, Emily,” Rory said around a chuckle, taking another bite of noodles. “But let’s get you through your first couple of semesters first, ‘kay?”

If ads affect your reading experience, click here to remove ads on this page.