Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Emily
The rest of the afternoon is much less stressful.
Once the make-up hug finally ended, Leo called Eli out of his studio to tell him what happened, and I grin when I hear Eli's loud, scandalised, delighted laughter. The next thing I know I’m in his arms while he’s cupping my chin and kissing the life out of me, letting me know that he’s very proud of me indeed.
And I imagine he's probably grateful that Melissa will surely be too embarrassed by her shameful and inexcusable behaviour to come by anymore.
Jess doesn't give any indication that she's embarrassed when she leaves, just smiles and pays and wishes me a good day, so I don’t think she knows what went down. Yet. How is such a nice person friends with such a stupid, lying cow?
And peace reigns once again. Leo and Sadie go back to normal like this morning never happened.
I will always be bewildered by the way some people can do that, just snap back to normal with no residue from their fight.
It would take me days, possibly weeks, to recover from a row like that, and I'd probably never see the friendship the same way again. But I guess different people handle things in different ways. I’m just glad they’re both OK.
I also decided to re-open my own Facebook and Instagram pages, because it’s been great fun looking after the parlour’s accounts.
I can easily block people if I don’t want them to have access to my page, and I do miss having social media.
So I block Gav and anyone else I can remember off the top of my head that I don’t want to deal with anymore, and make a mental note to come back to that because I know I haven’t thought of everyone.
And then I friend my Wishbone tribe, gratified by the speed with which my requests are accepted. I smile. I’m back, baby.
Eli immediately sends me an ‘in a relationship with’ request on Facebook. He beat me to it. I grin as I confirm it, and he immediately hearts the announcement. Ugh, he’s so cute.
Oh, and another highlight of the afternoon: turns out I can expect to meet celebrities as part of the job.
Nate Woodruff, the exceptionally handsome son of Mac Woodruff the uber-famous multi-Oscar winning actor and director, contacted Leo and booked an appointment with him for six months’ time; it seems he’s a semi-regular client.
Plus, Chris Richards, the drummer from the American rock band Turn It Up, also called Leo directly, so I booked out an afternoon for him in a few weeks’ time, scoring us all front row tickets for a date of Turn It Up's UK tour as part of the deal. I was open mouthed, but apparently they’re best buds.
Leo was laughing too hard as he recounted the story for me to one hundred percent get it, but I gleaned that it’s something to do with a music festival, a ton of fruit flavoured cider, an amp, and an inflatable sheep.
When it’s finally six p.m., I breathe a sigh of relief. It’s been an exhausting day, one way or the other.
And it’s looking like it may be an exhausting night, too.
I freshen up when we’re around ten minutes from closing, and can’t help beaming at myself in the mirror. Look how far you’ve come, I think to myself. Look what your life is like now.
Look at what you’ve got to look forward to tonight…
Eli
I’m so proud of her. For real. I trusted her to be able to handle Melissa, even though I felt bad for having to walk away and attend to my client. And she did it, even better than I would ever have dreamed.
And I smiled big when she took back her social media accounts. I’m so glad that she’s feeling so much safer, and able to have this again. I like to think I’ve helped, but at the end of the day, it’s all her.
Gotta say, I couldn’t be prouder to be listed as In a Relationship with her on Facebook. Hell, I’d put it on a billboard in the center of town, or stick a full page ad in the paper.
The second we get home - hers or mine, I don’t care - I don’t think I can do anything except fall on her like a caveman and do literally everything I can think of to blow her mind and have her screaming with pleasure.
I don’t care who she shared her bed with before me; I’m going to be her best, or die trying.
I head upstairs to the flat above the shop that Leo sometimes stays in for a quick shower.
I’ll be damned if I’m going to be sweaty after a day’s work for our first time.
Leo never minds when we use the facilities up here; in fact, he considers this to be everyone’s flat, not just his, free for any one of us to use as needed.
Which is why I’m a little surprised that he’s left one of his sketches of Sadie’s face lying around.
It's some of his best work, her eyes jumping off the page with unmistakably Sadie-ish mischief, hair curling down her shoulders the way it does. This is really good work. But she could easily have come up here herself and found this, and wondered why he’d drawn this with such care and feeling.
Ah well. Not my business.
Em's just putting her jacket on when I head back down the spiral staircase, and she gives me a smile that sends the blood rushing straight downwards.
Thank god it’s quitting time.
The thought of the night ahead is giving me butterflies, and I take her hand, squeezing it to steady me a little.
It’s been a couple of months since I’ve fucked anyone, but it’s been years since I made love.
Although… now I think about it, it's debatable whether I ever truly have.
I've never felt this strongly about anyone before in my life. She squeezes my hand back, and something settles within me. I know it’s all going to be fine.
Better than fine.
The two of us start to head out, and this time I’m going to leave Leo to lock up. If he sets the alarm wrong, he’s going to have to deal with it himself, I don’t give a shit.
“Don’t forget to come up for air once or twice,” Sadie stage whispers to Emily, making her giggle and blush.
I grin and flip her off, and then, by some unspoken agreement, Em and I walk off in the direction of her place rather than mine.
Dean’s been fine the past few nights, so hopefully that’ll hold true for tonight, but he knows he can message me if it gets too much.
Dean in crisis is maybe the only thing that'd tear me out of Em's bed.
I find myself walking quickly. She’s having to jog to keep up, and she laughs. “In a hurry?”
“Baby, you have no god damn idea,” I reply, and spontaneously sweep her into a fireman's lift, making her yelp, not caring if I’m making a scene. We’re about halfway through the short walk to her home, and the sooner we get there, the sooner I can pull all her clothes off and slide into her.
The thought of such a deliciously tight, soaking wet welcome as the one I know is waiting for me makes me growl a little and pick up my pace even faster, ignoring her protestations that she’s too heavy for me to carry (she isn’t) and that people are staring (let them).
I only put her down when we reach her door, and I’m kind of gratified to see that her hands are shaking as she inserts the key into her lock.
Even that action is filled with eroticism, and I honestly don’t know how I’ve made it through today without grabbing her, pulling her close, and doing what I’m about to do.
We get inside and I pull her to me immediately, pressing her against her hallway wall and kicking the front door shut behind me.
My mouth is irresistibly drawn to hers, and I cannot, for the life of me, cannot stop kissing her.
Her mouth slides against mine, and I manage to capture a few of the soft little noises she makes between my lips.
I'll keep them forever, somewhere inside me, like memories.
The present moment is a flurry of hands, pulling each other's clothes off, and it's blurry and breathless and exciting.
More exciting than with anyone else I can remember.
The anticipation was hot and pleasurable then, sure, but there wasn't this fever of need that I feel for my Emily.
I need her skin on mine, everywhere. Need it. Now.
I become dimly aware, as we stumble across the hallway, that she's pulling my boxers down, and I need to step out of them, my pants, and my boots. I refuse to let go of her to do so, so I toe out of the boots and step carefully out of everything all at once. I'm naked.
I want her to be, too.
Once I remove her jeans, she will be. She’s not wearing panties, after all...
Heart pounding, pounding, pounding, hard enough to make my temples throb, I waste no time and slip my fingertips under the waistband at her hips, easing them gently but swiftly down.
I can feel the warmth of her skin almost humming against mine, and it's magic, an electric feeling that says one thing to me:
More.
I lift her so that my hands cup her ass and her legs wrap around me.
Her tongue in my mouth tastes sweet and fresh.
She’s so warm, and her skin and hair are both so soft and smell sugary and delicious.
We’re up against a closed door. In the flurry of gasps and clutches and gentle bites, almost without us realizing it, our bodies take over and my cock is at her silky wet entrance, and though I don’t even intend to do it, I’m nudging inside her already…
“Fuuuuck,” I breathe, squeezing my eyes shut helplessly at the gorgeous, tingling feeling, the warmth spreading through me, the soft moan she gives as one inch, then two, penetrates her.
I pull back, but my body is demanding to get back inside her.
I shake my head resolutely. “No, not against the door...not our first time…” I’m kinda dizzy with need, and she gives the most adorable little soft whine of protest.
“Please,” she begs, biting my lower lip persuasively.
“No. Bed.” Words are failing me, but touch...touch is good.