Chapter Forty-Nine
Daphne
“I think I like this one the best,” Carla said, holding up one of my and Jace’s wedding photos. I took it from her hand and looked at it. It was one with her in the background, making a face. I laughed and tossed it back at her.
“I’m looking for one to have framed and hung over my new mantle.”
“I know, I think that one is perfect,” she said with a wink.
“I think we’ll keep looking,” I told her with a smile.
I looked around my and Jace’s new house and sighed contentedly. I love him so much. I love our house. I love our life.
We got married down at Columbus Park under the lit arbor just as the sun was going down. The photos all have the harbor and the glorious sunset in the background. It’s like the day was designed just for us. I knew that’s an entirely narcissistic view, but on this point, I didn’t care.
I was brought back to the present by my oh-so-direct friend. “So, when are you going to start popping out kids?”
I laughed. “We’ve only been married for a month. Slow down there, skippy.”
“Yeah, but you’ve been doing the nasty for two years. Come on, you’re behind. I’ll be a fabulous auntie.”
“I’m sure you will be, as long as you don’t say things like ‘doing the nasty’ in front of my child.”
She was crazy, but I loved her. She went on to say, “Maybe you two aren’t doing it right. Is Jace ramming that hard…”
“Carla!” I stopped her there. I love her, but I didn’t want to discuss my husband’s hard anything with her. My face was bright red, I could feel it.
She laughed. “You still blush like a school girl every time I mention sex. You need to read some trashy novels, get some ideas. You two are probably still doing it missionary, aren’t you?”
With a giggle, I said, “Trust me, we have plenty of our own ideas.”
“Oh, really? Tell me more. Have you done it all over the new house yet? Does Jace like doing it doggy style?”
“Carla! Stop,” I was laughing. Jace and I had no problems in the bedroom. As a matter of fact, it was quite the opposite. Some days we did it like rabbits all over the house and, yes, in different positions.
I was still not comfortable talking about it, though, and Carla knew that. She loves to tease me. She likes to call us “The virgin duo.” Little did she know, there was nothing virginal left about either of us.
“Here it is,” she said, suddenly. She was holding another photo from the pile of wedding pictures. When she handed it to me, I saw that this time, she wasn’t kidding.
Jace and I were facing each other holding hands. The water from the river could be seen in the background and the sun was glinting off of it as it lowered, casting a golden glow around us both. That was beautiful, but even more so was the look in our eyes as we stared at each other. It was going to look perfect above the mantle.
“I love it!”
“Yeah, me, too,” she said. It was the first serious thing she’d said in 20 minutes. “You know after you have kids you’ll have to take it down, though, right?”
“Why?”
“Please, you’ll have so many pictures of the kid, you won’t have room to hang your own. Just think about how gorgeous that kid will be with the two of you as parents.”
I smiled and tried to picture our baby. I hoped he looks just like Jace.
“Yeah, I bet he will be a looker,” I said.
“He?”
“I just think since Jace has two brothers, maybe the boy thing runs in his family.”
“Maybe, but I’d like to order a niece, too.”
Before I could respond to that, I heard Jace come in the front door. He came in and found us still sitting on the couch looking at our wedding pictures. He said hello to Carla and kissed me.
He was all dirty from work in his jeans and t-shirt with his big arms showing underneath the short sleeves and his hard chest outlined by the cotton material. I would take him down and eat him up right there if Carla wasn’t here. Even after two years, just looking at him excites me.
“What are you ladies doing?”
“We’re picking one out for above the mantle. What do you think of this one?” I held up the one Carla picked out and as I looked at it again I realized that part of why it was so beautiful was that it was a day that neither of us thought we’d ever see. You could see the love in our eyes in it.
“I love it.” The look in his eyes described the way I felt about it without words. He leaned over and kissing me again.
“Hey, Jace, I was just asking Daphne when the two of you were going to start making babies,” Carla said.
He laughed. “Whenever she’s ready. I’m going to leave that up to her.”
He wasn’t just saying that. It’s what he’s told me from the beginning. We both want kids, but he said it was important to him that we wait until I feel ready to do it, without being stressed or anxious. It should be a beautiful time in our lives, not a worrisome one.
He’s so sweet that he even questioned if I thought we should take some parenting classes, since neither of us had an example to go on. I honestly thought we’ll be okay. I’m definitely not my father and he is the most incredible, generous, big-hearted, nurturing person I’ve ever met. Our baby will be so lucky to have him.
“I volunteered to show you guys some new positions, but wifey is getting all embarrassed about it. You wouldn’t mind if I tagged along one of these days and just made sure you two virgins were doing it right, would you?” Carla asked him.
“Shh! Carla!” I laughed again. Thank God Jace was used to Carla. He was laughing, too. She has no filters, but she has a good heart and she loves me and Jace knows that. It’s all that matters to him, and I love him that much more for putting up with her.
He winked at me and said, “I’ll leave that up to her, too, Carla. Appreciate the offer, though.”
I looked at Jace. “I told her we were completely fine in that department.”
“She’s is right about that. We may have started out virgins, but I think we’ve got it mastered,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows.
“Are you sure? You know you don’t always have to be on top. Sometimes it’s fun and more productive to have her sit right down on your lap and you can kind of like…” She flexed her hips up and screwed up her face. Jace laughed and shook his head as he went into the kitchen to get a drink. I scolded her again, jokingly.
“I want to wait a year or two. I just got this nursing job, and I’d like to work for a while first.”
“Yeah,” Carla said, “I guess that way you can build up some leave. Don’t take too long, though. I want a baby to play with.”
“Why not have your own?” Jace asked her.
She looked at him like he had two heads. “Bite your tongue. I don’t even have a regular man yet. I’m not cut out to be a single mother.”
“You take your time, honey,” I told her. “You’re still young and beautiful. Have fun.”
“Hey,” Jace said, pretending to be insulted. “Are you saying being married to me isn’t any fun?”
I got up and went over to where he was sitting. I sat down on his lap and kissed him. We forgot Carla was there as we kissed passionately. I could feel him growing hard underneath me.
Carla cleared her throat and said, “Um… I think I’ll just be going.”
We laughed and apologized. “Sorry, we just get carried away,” I told her.
She snorted and said, “Newlyweds,” but she was grinning. “I really have to go. See ya, Jace.”
“See ya, Carla.”
I got up and walked her out. I gave her a hug before she left and promised I’d call to let her know how the new job goes. I’d just finished two years of nursing school and I got a job at the University Hospital. I was really excited about starting.
Jace had been so helpful and supportive while I was in school. I couldn’t wait to start making money and contributing to our lives. He said that part doesn’t matter, and I believe he means it. But it will make me feel better. He works so hard. I want to be an equal partner.
After she left, Jace showered while I put away the wedding pictures. We went out to dinner. Now that we’re living in Boston, we eat out once a week on Fridays. The rest of the week, we take turns cooking and on Sundays after church, we have dinner with his brothers.
We started going to a new church. It’s still Catholic, but no one there knows our history and it’s more comfortable for us there. We’re both still very devout, practicing Catholics. What has happened in the past is between us and God, but we both still feel strongly that we did the right thing and God is on our side.
Tonight, we went to a place near the Harbor called Legal Sea Foods. It’s one of our favorite places to eat when we’re in the mood for shellfish. The manager knows Jace from a job his company did for him last year, so he always starts us out with a huge shrimp cocktail.
We sit upstairs when we’re in the mood for quiet elegance, but tonight I wanted the two-pound lobster, so we had to sit downstairs for that. It’s a lot louder downstairs because that’s where the bar is at and a lot of college kids hang out there.
While we were eating, Jace looked over at the bar crowd and said, “Do you ever feel like you’re missing out?”
Confused, I said, “On what?”
“You’re about the same age as those kids at the bar. They’re just having a great time without a care in the world. You just finished school and you have a house and a husband to take care of. Do you ever wish you could go back and do it the way they’re doing it?”
I glanced over at the kids. I thought about high school and even if you factored out my horrible father, you couldn’t pay me to go back. It was fraught with constant anxiety over what to wear and who was talking about who and what boys were going to want if I went out with them.
Being a child of sexual abuse could have sent me over to the promiscuous edge, but instead, it sent me in the other direction. I never accepted dates because of my fear that the guy would want sex. I was a senior before I had my first real relationship. He was the one who ran when he tried to get me in bed and I told him about my dad.
I looked back at Jace and thought about how when you change one thing in your life, it often alters the course of it, and I said,
“No, not even a little bit. Mostly because had I done things differently, I would not have met you. Look at me now!” I giggled.
He smiled. “Yeah, look at you now. Happy looks so good on you. It’s hard to imagine the different courses our lives would have taken if we’d never met.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“Do you think you would still be a priest if we’d never met?”
He nodded and popped a piece of lobster in his mouth. “Yeah, I think so,” he said, after he swallowed. “It wasn’t terrible. I was never really content with it, but until I met you, I really thought it was where I was supposed to be.”
“Are you ever sorry you gave it up?”
“Not even a little bit,” he said, copying my words with a grin. “I love you, Daphne. I love our life, and I think God and I are okay these days.”
“Good. Me, too.”
“You too what?”
“I’m good with God.”
“What about me?”
I knew what he was fishing for, but I liked messing with him sometimes. “You just said you’re good with Him too.”
“But what about how you feel about me?”
“Oh! I’m good with you, too.” He made a sad face and I smiled. “I love you more than life itself.”
He grinned and said, “I knew that, I just wanted to hear it out loud.”
******
When we got home that night, Jace looked at the couch and with a grin he said, “You know something?”
“What’s that?”
“We made love on my old couch and on your old couch, but we haven’t done it on our new one yet.”
I went over and slid my arms around him. He kissed me deeply, and I said, “Do you think we should christen it?”
“I absolutely do,” he agreed with a grin. He flexed his hips into me, and I felt him already growing hard. He kissed me again and as he did, he pulled my dress up to around my waist. I broke the kiss and raised my arms so he could finish pulling it off. I walked over to the couch, saying,
“Let’s do this.”
He laughed. “I think I want you on this side,” he said. He was standing near the back of it.
I raised an eyebrow, but went around next to him. He grabbed my face in his hands and gave me another hard kiss as he released my bra. He flipped me around so I was facing the couch and pulled my panties down. I stepped out of them and felt his hands roam down across my backside, over the curves of my butt and dip between my legs.
“Mm, my baby is always so responsive.” I turned back around to face him and we kissed again. God, I love kissing him. I could do it all day. He had other ideas as he growled and buried his face in my breasts. While he was doing that, and doing it very well, I unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. I slid my hand down inside and found his now rock hard cock. I gave it a squeeze and felt him shudder into me.
“Take them off,” I told him. He reached down and put his fingers against my outer lips again and said, “Mm, so wet baby…”
“That’s because you’re so sexy, you make me that way.”
He reluctantly let go of my breasts and pulled his hand away from my pussy. I watched as my gorgeous husband stripped off his clothes. I could also just look at him all day. He grinned again and said, “I think I changed my mind. I think I want to sit on the couch, with my beautiful wife in my lap.”
“I like that idea,” I told him. He finished getting naked. God, he’s gorgeous, I’m so lucky. He sat down on the couch and I straddled him.
We kissed for a long time with his hands rubbing my back and shoulders. I loved it when he touches me like that. I loved everything he does.
I reached down and took him back into my hand. I lifted up on my knees and while his hands found my breasts and began to massage and caress them, I lined him up with me and sat down on his cock. God…there is no better feeling in the world than being filled up with my husband.
I started to move up and down. He was still licking and sucking on my nipples, using his teeth to graze them lightly because he knows how much I love that. I arched my back so that I could take his cock even deeper inside of me and I rocked back and forth on his lap. His thighs were hard and tense as he used them to bump my butt up and down as he flexed his hips so that he could thrust up into me.
He kept a breast in his mouth while he reached down between us and found my clit. I moaned at his pinch. I leaned back even further to give him better access, and he began to rub it with two fingers while he continued to pound my pussy.
Each time he bottomed out inside of me, he would round his hips, grinding up into me hard and deep. I’ve never felt anything like the way this man makes me feel and I’m sure that I never will. The sex is fantastic, all the time, but I believe our emotional connection feeds that and makes it so much better.
I rode him hard and fast until I felt his breaths begin to shorten and I knew he was ready to come. I squeezed my pussy muscles, clamping down on him like a vice and that sent him hurtling over the edge.
I felt the warm liquid fill me up as he held me down tightly against his lap. He was moaning and making primal sounding grunts as he milked himself into me. When he finished coming, he didn’t stop moving. He’s a generous lover; never stopping until I come.
He kept flexing his hips and rubbing my clit with his fingers. He brought the other hand up and pinched and rolled my nipples. I felt the orgasm washing over me and tightened every muscle in my body as I came.
Jace kept rubbing lightly until my body stopped shaking and I collapsed into him, breathing heavily. He put his hands on my back then and began to rub my back and run his hands through my hair. He was kissing the side of my face and telling me he loved me over and over.
When I had the strength I pulled my face up and looked at him. “I love you, Jace. I never imagined being happy like this.”
He smiled. I still melt when his smile is just for me. “I thank God for you every day, Daphne. I love you more than I can ever put into words and I am so grateful we found each other. I look forward to discovering new things with you every day for the rest of our lives.”
I kissed him again and I thought, who would have ever imagined that two abused kids who at more than one point in their lives thought they could never be happy would find each other and change that?
I know that I’m where I’m supposed to be and Jace tells me he knows this is where he belongs to. I’m going to hold onto him forever, and I know in my heart that it’s only going to get better and better.
LOUD
By Claire Adams
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2016 Claire Adams
Chapter One
Brooke
Moving sucks. However, it has become something of a tradition for me. I’ve moved more times than I care to think about. So many times, in fact, that I’ve adapted to look at it as a reinvention of myself, a new leaf to turn, a blank page that I can use to rewrite my life. Instead of dreading it, I have come to use it as a new start.
Not that I had much choice in the matter growing up, with my dad in the military and being stationed all over the place. Don’t get me wrong, it was great in a lot of ways. I mean, not only did I get to experience different cities and different states, but I also got to live in a few different countries.
Of course, there were aspects of it that kind of sucked, too. I never got to make the kind of solid, lasting friendships that kids get to make when they grow up in one location. I admit I was rather envious when I saw other kids my age with their best friends who they'd known for most of their lives. I wanted those kinds of connections. But even with social media and cell phones, those connections always faded. Then there was my first real high school boyfriend—I had to leave him behind just about the time things were starting to settle in and get to the good part. So, yeah, moving isn’t always ideal, but life is what you make it. Or, so I’m told.
So, I found myself moving once again. Only this time, it has nothing to do with my dad getting orders to yet another Air Force base. Nope, this time it was my choice. And it was the right choice, considering the circumstances that led to it. Granted, if I wanted to maintain any level of self-respect, it was the only choice I really had after what he did to me. He who should not be spoken of. I didn't want to think about him, about that, about the place we shared together, about the trust I put in him, about the stability I'd longed for and thought I had finally found. Until it was all ripped away.
“Helloooo. Earth to Brooke! C'mon, I can't get this sofa off the back of this truck by myself, girl!”
Leslie.
The sound of her voice brought a smile to my face. I guess I did have some stability, after all. There's nothing quite like a best friend to distract you from a broken heart. Especially when she's as bubbly as Leslie. Okay, maybe bubbly isn’t the right way to describe her. Maybe a little left of center in the best way possible is more accurate.
“Sorry, Les, I was just-”
“Daydreamin', girl, like always!”
She rolled her eyes at me in that melodramatic manner that she is known—and loved—for. It’s really not a huge surprise to anyone who’s ever known her that she's majoring in drama. She'll land a part as soon as she graduates, I have no doubt.
I snapped myself out of the turmoil of thoughts and emotions crashing through my head and hurried over to help Leslie get the sofa off the truck.
“I’m coming. Don’t get too excited. Just hold on before you hurt yourself!”
I clambered up onto the tailgate of the truck and moved toward the cab, maneuvering around the 1970s iconic sofa. I squatted down low before I slid my hands into position and gripped the underside of the big piece of furniture. My dad’s voice played through my mind—Always use your legs to lift, not your back. I grinned a little to myself at the thought.
“Okay, Les, are you ready?” I asked.
She positioned herself at the edge of the truck's bed, clutched her side of the sofa tight, and gritted her teeth. “I got this,” she assured me. “Been doing squats at gym with Antonio. I'm ready, as ready as I've ever been!” Her over-the-top enthusiasm made me laugh. Especially considering I could barely see her face peeking over the top of the clunky sofa.
I tried to reposition my hands in a way that wouldn’t slip on the plastic furniture cover encasing Leslie's grandmother's still-pristine relic. One thing was for certain, the thing was sturdy. And there wasn’t a spot on it. Without the plastic covering, it looked as though it had just been delivered from the showroom. However, it had been sitting in Leslie’s storage since her grandmother had passed a few months before. And while it was kind of clunky, we both agreed that it was pretty much the most comfortable sofa either of us had ever sat on. Combined with the fact that the style of it was so retro that it was practically back in style, it was a no-brainer to use it for our new apartment. We'd saved more than a few dollars by not buying a new one, and we used the money we saved to buy other items that weren’t practically antique and were a little more our style so that we could decorate the apartment with flair.
Of course, before worrying about that, we had to actually get the sofa off the truck and into the apartment. Getting the thing onto the truck had been easy enough. Leslie's uncle—a big, burly, biker—had helped us get it out of her storage building and onto the back of the truck. But then he'd had to head off to work. It had sure seemed a lot lighter when we'd had a three-hundred-pound biker helping us lift it.
“Alright, you ready? On three,” I said. “One, two, three!”
We both grunted and tried to put our backs into it. We managed to get it up off the bed of the truck, but then Leslie's eyes started bulging white in their sockets and the look on her face was more than enough for me to know we weren’t going to make it far with the sofa.
“Put it down, put it down,” she managed to gasp. “Hurry, or I'm gonna drop it on my foot!”
“Okay, okay! Easy!”
We lowered the sofa back onto the truck bed and Leslie breathed a sigh of relief as she flailed herself over the back of the sofa. After a moment she stood, resting her hands on her thighs as she breathed in and out in deep breaths of exertion.
“So, ummm, what happened to 'I've been doing squats?'” I laughed.
She looked up at me and shook her head. “Clearly I haven't been putting enough weight on the bar! Damn, that sofa feels like it weighs as much as a small car!”
I leaned back against the rear window of the truck. “Well, we've gotta get it off here somehow. And we've gotta do it soon. My brother will be getting off work in about an hour and I've gotta get to the other side of town to give him his truck back. We need to have all of this stuff unloaded in the next thirty minutes…give or take.”
“Girl, I'm telling you, if I have to try get this big-ass sofa off this truck again without any help, I’m pretty sure my back is gonna snap clean in half like a lil' ol' matchstick.”
“Well, do you have any suggestions about what we’re gonna do? Bryan only agreed to lend me his truck for the afternoon.”
“Let me think,” Leslie said as she plopped down into the sofa.
The sound of a motorcycle screaming up the road distracted us from our current predicament. Even if we wanted to discuss ways to get the monstrous sofa into the apartment, we wouldn’t have been able to hear ourselves talk. We turned our heads as the motorcycle sped closer until a bright red, sleek and sexy machine with aerodynamic bodywork and sharp, purposeful curves came into view. The bike slowed down as it rounded the corner to our apartment block. The rider—a young, muscular guy dressed in a tight tee shirt and faded jeans—pulled into the parking space next to us, killing the bike's rumbling engine as he did. My knees went a little weak when he pulled off his helmet and grinned at us with a set of brilliantly white teeth. I almost expected to hear a tiny dinging sound like you’d hear on a toothpaste commercial. He had the square-jawed look of a cover model and despite having just pulled a helmet off, his dark chestnut hair was meticulously styled—short on the sides, but longer and flowing on top. His eyes seemed to hover on me for a few moments before his gaze moved to the sofa where Leslie sat. Then again, it could have simply been wishful thinking on my part.
“Nice bike, cowboy,” Leslie called out to him. “Is that a Suzuki?”
“Kawasaki,” he replied.
“Hmph. Got something against Honda or Ducati?” she asked with a grin.
“Not really, but I only ride Japanese bikes.”
“Do ya now?” she said twisting her mouth curiously. “My friend Brooke here lived in Japan for a while.”
“Nice,” he said, his stare moving back to me with a crooked grin turning up one side of his breathtaking face. “I'm hoping to visit Tokyo over semester break. I've always wanted to go. Maybe you can tell me some places I should check out?”
“Um, sure,” I replied, fighting back a flutter of butterflies in my stomach as he directed his attention toward me. “But maybe we should be properly introduced first?”
He chuckled warmly. “Of course, where are my manners? I'm Emerson Reed. I live just over there,” he said, pointing at one of the apartment buildings.
“No way!” said Leslie. “That's right next door to us!”
“Ohhh,” he remarked, dragging the word out a little with a suddenly mischievous, knowing glint in his eyes. “So, you're the new neighbors I've heard so much about.”
“Heard so much about?” I asked, wondering why anyone would be talking about us.
“And what exactly is it that you've heard about us?” asked Leslie.
Emerson looked us each up and down briefly and smiled. “Oh, this and that,” he replied, still grinning.
His gaze returned to the sofa on the back of the truck. “Wow. That is quite the sofa. I haven't seen one of those since I was about this tall,” he remarked, holding a hand to the side of his knee to indicate the height of a small child. “My uncle had one just like that when I was a little kid. Only, his was red. It didn't last too long, though. My aunt had a bunch of cats and they tore it to shreds. That was a tough sofa, though, I remember that about it.”
“Yeah, it's pretty solid alright,” Leslie sighed, rolling her eyes. “Too damn solid for us to get it off the back of the truck!”
“Say no more,” Emerson announced. “I'll go get my roommate, Chris. I think we can get it off the back of the truck for you.”
“Seriously?” I asked. “You'd help us out with it?”
When he looked at me, I could have sworn his gaze lingered over me for a few moments longer than necessary.
“It's no big deal,” he insisted. “We were just about to head off to the gym to work out anyway, so this'll be a good warm-up. You two just hang tight, I'll be back in a minute.”
He set his helmet down on the tank of the bike and jogged into the building. After he was out of sight, Leslie and I looked at each other, simultaneously bursting into a fit of giggles.
“Oh, my God!” Leslie exclaimed. “How freakin’ hot is he? And I saw him checking you out! Oh yeah, he's got a thing for you.”
A blush warmed my cheeks. “He wasn't looking at me like that.”
“Yeah, he was.”
“No, he wasn't. And besides, just look at him.”
“Oh, I did, girl, I did!” She cocked an eyebrow and grinned.
“C'mon, Les, that's not what I meant. We both know exactly what type of guy he is. Tight shirt to show off his physique. Big, flashy bike to attract attention. Shampoo-commercial hair that looks like it takes him more time in the morning to get ready than you or me. He's probably a self-absorbed douchebag who goes through girls like a Pez dispenser.”
“And, if he is? What's wrong with having a little fun with a guy like that?”
I shook my head and folded my arms across my chest, feeling a bit of defensiveness creeping in. “Maybe it's alright for you, Les, but I'm…I'm just not that kinda girl, and you know it. Besides, after the Andrew thing, I mean-”
“Oh my God, Brooke,” she exclaimed, giving me another one of her trademark eye rolls. “I thought we agreed that you weren't gonna bring up the A-word today. Please, his name doesn’t deserve to be mentioned. Ever. I know you're still hurting, but seriously, it’s been long enough, BeeBee. You have to actually make an effort to move on. I've told you a million times: I can't stand to see you stuck like this, unable to get past what he did to you. You're never gonna get over him if you carry on like this, you know that. Come on, you’re a smart girl! There's a totally hot guy who's clearly attracted to you, and he lives right next door! Look, I'm not telling you to jump in the sack with him right off the bat. Hell, take things as slowly as you're comfortable with. But seriously, don't write him off without even making just a little effort to get to know him! Who knows, he might be totally different than what you're judging him to be and-”
“He isn't,” I said flatly. I wasn't sure why, but a burning feeling of annoyance was bubbling beneath my skin.
“You don't know that.”
“And, you don't know that I’m wrong, either,” I countered. “Anyway, doesn’t matter. Besides, subject change: He's coming back with his friend.”
Leslie glanced up and saw Emerson coming out of the apartment building followed by a very muscular, deeply-tanned guy with short, spiky hair held in place with what I could only guess was an entire bottle of gel. Bulging muscles screamed against an impossibly tight wife-beater tank. I tried not to squint my eyes in a way that made it obvious I was questioning his decision to wear the garish gold chain that hung around his neck. He looked us each up and down without even trying to conceal it and whistled slowly from between his teeth.
“Ladies,” he said with a cheeky smile. “Welcome to our kingdom! I'm Chris, King of the Realm. And, you two are obviously the princesses we've been waiting for.”
He laughed boisterously at his own joke while Leslie and I shot each other sideways glances out of the corners of our eyes and shook our heads as we chuckled politely. There may have been a little controversy regarding what kind of guy Emerson was, but there certainly wasn't any about Chris.
He hopped up onto the back of the truck next to me and pulled his sunglasses down his nose a bit so that he could lock his brown eyes with mine for a second. I looked away, not wanting him to see the distaste in my eyes and think I was being completely rude. Thankfully, he seemed completely oblivious to it.
“I heard you ladies needed some muscle,” he said as he flexed his enormous biceps. “Well, as you can tell, there's more than enough of that to go around!” He grinned and flexed in front of us again, prompting a bout of giggles from Leslie. I couldn't quite tell if they were mocking giggles or if she was, on some level, actually attracted to this dim-wit.
Again, Chris laughed loudly at his own lame joke, and I couldn't stop myself from shaking my head and wondering just what type of girls fell for this guy; no matter how hot his body was, he was a tool.
“Okay, bro, grab that side,” he said to Emerson, who now seemed a lot more reserved and quiet compared to his loudmouthed friend.
“I got it, man,” Emerson said as he gripped the edges of the sofa.
“Okay, hit it!” instructed Chris, and the two of them grunted and maneuvered the heavy sofa from the back of the truck.
While Chris was clearly vying for our attention, I found it easy to ignore his brash arrogance. It wasn’t so easy, however, to ignore Emerson. While Chris' physique bordered on the ridiculous—there was no way he wasn’t on steroids—Emerson's was more natural, less extreme, but powerful nonetheless. I found my gaze lingering far too long on the rippling muscles of Emerson’s arms as he carried the heavy sofa across the lawn. I had to admit, the way the afternoon sunlight caught the stubble on his jaw as he turned toward me took my breath away just for an instant.
Several grunts later (and more ludicrous comments from Chris), the two of them disappeared into our apartment with the sofa and emerged a few minutes later, each covered in a sheen of sweat that enhanced their well-developed physiques. Emerson hung back, dabbing at his sweat with a handkerchief he'd retrieved from his pocket. I smiled. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen a younger guy carrying a handkerchief. Chris, on the other hand, walked immediately back over to us, smiling suggestively all the while.
“Any other heavy lifting I could help you two with? Now or…later perhaps?”
Leslie laughed and folded her arms across her chest. “Thanks, Chris, but that was the only thing we needed help with. We're super grateful for your assistance, but I think we’re good.”
“You sure? I mean, that sofa was nothing really. Nothing compared to what I'm about to go smash in the gym. Seriously, if you need us to help out with anything else, we're down.”
“Thanks, guys. We’ve got it from here,” Leslie reassured him.
Emerson took a few steps closer to us and looked up into the back of the truck. His eyes met mine, and I turned away quickly.
“Are you sure you guys don't need any more help?” he asked, directing the question at me.
“We're totally fine now, thanks,” interjected Leslie.
“Yeah. We’re good. Thanks,” I said, still avoiding eye contact.
Chris shrugged. “Alright then, ladies. So, uh, what time is the housewarming? I'll bring Jell-O shots and vodka. Say nine, nine thirty?”
“There isn't gonna be a housewarming,” I said, aware of how cold my tone had suddenly become. “We have a lot of unpacking to do, and since we have class Monday morning, this has to get done. We're both swamped this semester, and I seriously don't think we're gonna have time for parties.”
Chris stared at me for a moment and then he shook his head. “Whatevs. You only live once, yo. Life's too short to waste sitting behind a desk staring at books all day. And yeah, speaking of short, we're gonna be late for gym, bro! Jason already messaged me like ten minutes ago saying he was waiting for us.”
“Alright,” Emerson replied. “Let's go. See you around, uh…”
“I'm Leslie, and this is Brooke,” Leslie announced.
“Leslie and Brooke,” Emerson said as if he was completing his sentence. “It’s really nice to meet you both. I guess we’ll see you around sometime, and welcome to the neighborhood.”
With that, he climbed onto his bike, while Chris climbed into a sleek, black sports car. No real shocker there. Emerson started his bike up and revved the engine before spinning the back wheel as he took off. Chris winked at us as he pulled out of his parking space. Leslie laughed, and I couldn’t help but chuckle. When they were gone, Leslie grabbed a box from the tailgate of the truck and grinned up at me with a look I knew all too well.
“Come on, BeeBee,” she said. “You have to admit you saw it. Emerson couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. He’s totally got a thing for you.”
“I have to admit nothing,” I fired back, trying to sound less defensive than I felt for some reason. I didn't want to think about that guy, or any guy for that matter—not with thoughts of Andrew still swirling around my head. It had been months; I knew I should be getting over it, but for some reason, what he had done still haunted me.
“Can we please just forget about it, Les? I'm not in the mood. Let's just get the rest of this stuff into the apartment. I've gotta get the truck back to Bryan soon.”
“Okay,” she said with a sigh. “But seriously, you’re going to have to lighten up sometime.”
Yeah, I thought to myself.
I am.
But not today.