Chapter Eight
Emma
“H ow’s the crush going?” Ava asks as she kicks off her heels. “I haven’t heard anything else about it.”
Heat creeps over my flesh. Last night was intense. Of course she doesn’t need to know what happened, or better yet, didn’t happen.
“Uh, it’s fine. I think he sort of likes me too. It’s kind of a messy situation.”
She nods, a sad smile on her face. “I understand messy. Do you want to talk about it?”
Headlights flash through her darkened living room and I jolt to my feet. “Maybe another time, yeah?”
“Of course. Thanks, Emma. We appreciate having you. Quinn will Cashapp you tomorrow.”
I thank her and then slip out of the house. It’s going to be awkward seeing Reid in person after last night. Texting him was easy enough because I didn’t have to see his handsome face. Now we’re going to be alone.
“Hey,” I say in greeting as I hop in the truck.
He stares straight ahead, jaw muscle ticking. “Hey.”
Okay.
Something weird is happening right now.
“Do you hate me?”
I guess we’re not going to ignore last night. “What? No. It was my fault.”
His head whips my way, and he bristles with anger. “Not. Your. Fault.”
Why is he being so intense?
“I just,” I mutter, shifting uncomfortably in my seat. “I just didn’t expect you to walk in, uh, while I was doing…you know. I’m sorry about that.”
He blinks in confusion and then winces. “Ah. I was actually talking about what happened between me and your mother.”
Now it’s my turn to be confused. I missed a few calls from Mom and some texts, but I figured she was still trying to apologize for missing her birthday meal. Since I’m still hurt about it, I wasn’t keen on reading or hearing what she had to say.
“What happened?” I croak out.
Guilt shines in his eyes and he rubs at his tattooed hand. “I, uh, things are changing around here.”
Wait.
Did they make up?
Are they getting married ?
Bile burns my throat. I wonder if Ava and Quinn will think less of me if I barf on their driveway.
“Just go,” I hiss, waving at him. “We can discuss this at home.”
He doesn’t move for a beat and then sighs heavily in resignation. We’re both quiet as we head home.
Surely, they’re not patching things up.
Not after the charged moment last night in the kitchen and then afterward in my bedroom.
Right?
I gnaw on my fingernail, too nervous to check my messages from Mom. I can almost imagine her leaving me sing-song voicemails about how we’ll go wedding dress shopping together. The thought of watching her walk down the aisle to be with a man she doesn’t truly love makes me sick.
Maybe I should have eaten something when the kids ate earlier.
A headache pulses at my temples.
As soon as we park at the house, I jump from the vehicle and hurry inside. I rush up the stairs, eager to hide out in my room. Once inside, I note the bed has been made and all the dirty clothes have been washed and folded and are still sitting in a laundry basket.
Reid’s presence looms behind me as he enters my bedroom.
“You washed my things,” I mutter. “Guess that’s what dads do, huh? ”
I twist around in time to see him flinch at my words. His cheeks are red and eyes shine with guilt.
“Em,” he utters, not meeting my stare. “Can we talk about what happened?”
Tears sting my eyes, and I hate that I’m about to cry over this. This is what I get for crushing over an older man. Not just any older man, but the one sleeping with my mother. Unbelievably stupid and reckless. My heart is crushed.
“Hey,” he murmurs, cradling my cheeks in his palms. “Don’t cry, pretty girl. Please don’t cry.”
Despite his pleas, tears streak down my cheeks. He uses his thumbs to swipe them away. My eyes flutter closed as his lips press to my forehead. I sink against him, releasing a sob and more tears.
“I don’t know what she said about me,” he chokes out, “but it’s not true. You know I would do anything for you. You’re always welcome here. You don’t have to leave, Em.”
It takes a second for his words to catch up in my mind. I pull away from him, frowning. “What?”
“I’m sure your mom blew up your phone about our fight.” He shakes his head in frustration. “It got ugly.”
“You’re not getting married?”
It’s his turn to be stupefied. “To your mom?”
The utter disgust in his voice sends waves of euphoria traveling through me.
“Em, baby, listen,” he rumbles. “We broke it off. Officially. Your mom took all her shit and left. ”
He called me baby.
I slide my arms around his neck and then stand on my toes to reach his mouth. Before I can chicken out, I press my lips to his. He opens his mouth, most likely to protest, and I seize the opportunity. My tongue swipes over his and we both groan.
A massive palm grabs my ass cheek and squeezes to the point of pain.
It’s rough and feral and I need more of it.
My legs hook around his waist, and I deepen our kiss. A moan escapes me when his hand squeezes me again, this time fingers sliding down the ass crack of my jeans.
“Wait,” he hisses, pulling away. “Stop. We can’t do this.”
“Why not?” I scowl at him.
“Because.” He plucks me off of him and tosses me onto my made bed. “She accused me of some shit, and I don’t want her to be right.”
“Reid…”
His hungry gaze rakes over me and he shakes his head. “Please. Let me get my head together. We can discuss this later.”
With those words, he stalks out of my room, slamming the door shut after him.
I don’t even know what just happened. What I do know is we kissed, and it was amazing. I’m already salivating for more.
My purse sits on the floor where I’d dropped it a few minutes ago. I snatch my phone out to read the many texts from my mother starting last night after she got home.
Mom: Oh, sweetheart, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize you’d done all that for my birthday.
Mom: Things are just hard lately. I’m working on something better for us.
Mom: You forgive me, right?
Then the rest are from this afternoon.
Mom: Reid kicked me out. We’re over. Be careful with him.
Mom: I’ve seen how he leers at you. Has he ever put his hands on you? I’ll kill him!
Mom: Sorry, I’m just upset. You know you can tell me anything, though. Did he touch you? You’re not in trouble.
I’m going to be sick. Is she for real?
Mom: He’s a good man. I’m just freaking out. Why would he do this to us?
Mom: I’m staying with my client tonight and then I’m going to work on him. Maybe we can move in with him. I could trade cleaning for rent or something.
Mom: I’ll call you tomorrow and let you know the update. This client of mine lives in one of those fancy houses close to where you babysit. Maybe we’re finally moving up in the world .
Her texts are erratic, going back and forth from angry to determined. I finally respond to her.
Me: I don’t want to move in with some stranger. I want to stay here. Reid won’t care.
Her response is immediate.
Mom: I will care. You’re my daughter. Not his.
Me: I’m eighteen.
Mom: Doesn’t mean you’re grown!
I plug my phone in the charger, no longer interested in discussing this topic with her over text. Then, I change into a pink camisole and gray sleep shorts.
Me and Reid kissed.
We can’t ignore what happened or this electric pull when we’re around each other.
Should I go talk to him?
Yes.
I stride over to my bedroom door and open it. His bedroom door is open but he’s not in there. I can hear sounds downstairs. The television is on and dishes clank together.
Just go down there, girl.
Pacing at the top of the stairs doesn’t get you what you want.
What do I want?
Him.
I work up the nerve to go downstairs and see him. He’s in the kitchen cooking something. My stomach grumbles when I get a whiff of a grilled cheese sandwich.
“I’d heard it, uh, earlier. Grumbling.” He won’t look at me as he gestures to the pan. “Thought I’d make you something to eat.”
I step close to his side so I can watch him as he cooks. He’s stiff at first but then relaxes. Our bodies brush against each other as he moves.
“Mind grabbing a plate, bab—er—Em?”
A smile tugs at my lips. “Were you about to call me baby?”
He grunts, neither confirming nor denying. I fetch the plate for him and check out his firm ass in his basketball shorts. Still, he refuses to look at me.
“Here you go,” he says, thrusting the plate at me with the savory grilled cheese in the middle. “Eat up.”
Then, he practically races out of the kitchen. Since I’m starving, I wolf down the sandwich and then chase down the cheesy remnants with a bottle of water. I rinse off my plate and then make my way into the living room where he’s intently watching golf.
He wants me. I want him. The longer he tries to avoid it, the more frustrating it’ll be for the both of us.
It’s time to remind him of what he wants.
I sit down on the coffee table in front of him, blocking the television and smirk at him.
His eyes are nearly twitching as he attempts to look through me at the television.
He’s only able to hold off looking at me for so long before giving in.
Hazel eyes dart first to my lips and then down to my breasts.
The silky pink material doesn’t hide my erect nipples pointing through. A choked sound comes from him.
“You okay over there?” I ask, a teasing lilt in my voice.
“Isn’t it your bedtime?”
I laugh and shake my head. “I’m eighteen now. My bedtime is your bedtime.”
His teeth grind together as if it’s taking every ounce of him to control himself. I rise to my feet between his spread thighs and place my hands on my hips. He steals a glance down at my exposed bellybutton, groaning again. This time, he adjusts himself through his shorts.
Glad to know I’m not the only one around here who’s turned on.
“Don’t you want to touch me?” I murmur, stepping until my shins touch the couch. “I want that.”
Hot eyes latch onto mine. His hand moves over his shorts as he rubs at his cock. My pussy throbs with need.
“This is a bad idea,” he growls, sitting up, bringing his face close to my stomach. “A very bad fucking idea.”
“Why?” I run my fingers through his short hair. “Doesn’t feel bad.”
“Yet.” His head snaps up so he can look at me. “The things I want to do to you are…”
“Are what?”
“Shameful. Wrong. Fucked up.”
“So?”
His palm slides between my thighs, ghosting over the flesh as he caresses me reverently. “I don’t think I can be gentle with you, baby. I want to fucking consume you.”
“I don’t want you to be gentle,” I murmur.
Is that the truth?
Absolutely.
Reid is so careful and safe with everyone.
What happens when he loses control?
I want to be the person he does that for.
“You don’t know what you’re saying.” He squeezes my thigh, and I yelp at the sharp pain. “See?”
“You can’t scare me away.”
He lets out a snarl. “Fuck it.”
As if a rubber band inside him snaps, he yanks me forward. I fall into his lap ungracefully and straddle him. His huge hands grab my ass, and he pulls me over his cock. We’re both wearing thin material, so I’m able to feel just how thick and long he is.
And he’s so damn big. I’m a novice when it comes to cocks, but you’d have to be an idiot not to realize his dick is a literal big deal.
Holy shit.
Is this really happening?
Finally.