“Wow,” she exclaims. “And I thought my life was chaotic when I’m living two doors down from drama central.”
A reluctant smile pulls at my lips. “Believe me, I prefer my life with way less turmoil.”
“But things worked out for you.”
“If by working out, you mean that after four years and weeks of groveling, he’s forgiven me? Or that he’s going to finally finish a degree that, if not for me, he would have finished years ago?”
“You’re back together again.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” I say, laughing wryly. “We had sex. That’s all I can definitively say right now. I have no idea where things go from here.” And I’m trying really hard not to get caught up in the tangled web of expectations. What I need to do is take things one day at a time.
Kelsey offers me an encouraging smile. “I have a feeling things will turn out okay.”
I wish I had her confidence. But things could certainly be worse.
She heaves a sigh and then turns in her seat to stare sightlessly in front of her. “I’m not going to lie to him.” She shoots a quick look at me as if she knows what I’m about to say. “And that includes lying by omission.”
I smile, relieved she intends to take my advice. First Daphne and now Kelsey. I’m getting pretty good at this.
“I guess I’ll just die a virgin.” She couldn’t have upped the melodrama more had she swept the back of her hand across her brow and cried, “As God is my witness, I’ll never be hungry again.” The analogy would be perfect had Marilyn Monroe played Scarlett O’Hara.
I take in her gorgeous skin, pouty lips, blue-green eyes and thick lashes and roll my eyes. “There’s no way in hell you’re going to die a virgin,” I reply with a snort.
“Of course you would say that, you hussy, giving it up to an older man when you were sixteen,” she teases.
“I was turning seventeen in three months,” I protest, knowing that excuse is weak and indefensible.
Kelsey’s expression instantly becomes contrite. “Em, I didn’t mean—”
I dismiss her apology with a flick of my hand. “No, just ignore me. I’m being overly sensitive.” The fact remains that Graham was arrested and spent time in jail for that very reason. A lying hussy would have been a far more apt description.
“Look, I don’t know Alex. Maybe he feels differently about things now because of you. I’ve seen you two together and it’s obvious he’s seriously into you. Maybe your virginity won’t be that big a deal after all. I mean it’s one thing to make a vow in the abstract, it’s a whole other thing when it actually happens with someone you really care about.” And I’m not simply saying that to make her feel better. It is possible. I mean, Graham forgave me and we had sex. Several times. Which means anything is possible.
“But don’t you understand? A lot of the things he likes about me aren’t really me. He’s not interested in me, the inexperienced virgin.”
“I think you’re wrong. And you’re never going to know unless you tell him the truth.”
A faint smile curves her lips as hope flickers to life in her eyes. “I guess the only thing I can hope is that things work out as well for me as it did for you.”
I let out a dry laugh. “Like I said, I have no idea where this is going to go.”
“You guys had sex. I’m not greedy. I’ll take that for now,” Kelsey says, wry amusement in her voice.
Yes, we had sex. What’s next is the question I want answered. I should get an idea when I see him tonight at work.
Chapter 25
“Good, you’re awake. If you weren’t up in the next half hour, I was coming to get you,” April says, poking her head through the arched opening of the kitchen to spy me advancing in her direction.
I plop down on the kitchen bar stool and rest my cell phone on the counter between us.
Smiling, she asks, “What time did you get in this morning?” Hair pulled high in a ponytail, she looks her usual gorgeous self in a blue-and-white striped, long-sleeved thermal top and bottoms, her face void of makeup.
“Between two-thirty and three,” I reply around a yawn. I don’t tell her that I didn’t fall asleep until almost four waiting to see if Graham would text me back. He hasn’t.
Without asking, she places a cup of coffee in front of me. “I added a little peppermint for flavor. Tell me what you think.”
I shove a chunk of hair away from my face before taking a sip. “Hmm. Not bad. Could use a bit more sugar though.”
Of all the hot beverages in the world, coffee needs added flavor. Peppermint is something I can definitely work with.
She plucks the cup from my hand, adds a teaspoon of sugar and flavored syrup, stirs and then hands it back to me. I give it another try.
I hum my approval. “Perfect.”
Cup in hand, April exits the kitchen and rounds the peninsula to take a seat on the stool beside mine. “I bought the syrup at the new store across the street from Starbucks. They have a bunch of different flavors.”
I make a sound as if I’m listening, but my mind is elsewhere. Graham didn’t show up for work last night. When I finally worked up the nerve to ask John if he was coming in, he informed me Graham had switched shifts with Ian. A last-minute kind of thing.
I tried not to let my disappointment show but I must not have done a good job of it because both Sandra and Sylvia asked what was wrong. I lied and said I was worried about an upcoming test.
“Hey, what’s wrong? Are you still pissed at Troy?” April’s questions pull me back to the present.
“No. Of course not,” I reply. Troy apologized to me when I got home from the mall.
April told me about you and what’s his name. I’m sorry about the way I acted, and I’ll apologize to him personally when I see him again, okay?
The way things stand now, that’s if Troy sees him again, I muse.
“Then what’s wrong? Because I know something is,” she says. “C’mon, you can tell me. Troy’s at practice so it’s just us. Did something happen at work between you and Graham?”
I shake my head. “Graham called out from work last night.” God, I sound pathetic.
“Is that why you slept in so late? Couldn’t sleep because you’re worried about him?” She takes a drink of her coffee.
“Not really worried.” I pause when she arches her brow at me. “Okay, maybe worried a little. I texted him when I got home but he hasn’t texted me back.”
At quarter to three, I’d sent him a text. Hey, I missed you at work. But I’d deleted it, fearing it came across as too ‘relationship-y’. I’d finally settled on, you weren’t at work today. I hope everything’s okay.
“Do you think he had a family emergency?” April asks.
“God, I hope not,” I exclaim, thinking of his mom. “I haven’t—”
I break off at the ringing of my phone, and I can’t snatch it up fast enough. My heart plummets when I note the caller on the screen.
My dad.
I think about not answering but I know from experience it’ll only delay the inevitable.
“Hey, Dad.” I try not to sound as if I was hoping he were someone else.
“Hi, Emily. What’s a man have to do to get a call from his only daughter?” My dad always has to establish that I’m his only daughter in case I forget what having his only daughter not speaking to him for almost a year will do to him. It breaks his heart.
I make a face at April and mouth, My dad.
She grimaces, crosses her legs and continues drinking from her mug.
“I was going to call.” In a month if I didn’t hear from him.
“Your mom tells me you got a new job.”
Thanks, mom. “Yeah, another waitressing job. Nothing spectacular.” My dad has this thing about me working while I’m in school. Why would I if I don’t have to?
“I understand it’s at a bar.” The disapproval in his voice comes over loud and clear.
“It’s a club/bar/restaurant,” I c
orrect in case he thinks it’s a bar of the smoky dive, biker variety.
“All I know is that any place that sells alcohol is open late. Those hours can’t be good for your course load.”
It’s times like these when I really wish I had a younger sister. Maybe then my dad would stop treating me like I’m a delicate flower. Spread his overbearingness around.
“Dad, don’t worry, I can handle it.” I look at April and shake my head. The man is impossible.
There’s a discernible pause that tells me he’s thinking about whether to pursue the matter. I get my answer when he switches topics. “How’s the new place? How are things going with that roommate of yours? You two getting along?”
“Her name is April and we’re getting along fine. Great.” My dad knows I’m also rooming with a guy, but because he doesn’t approve of my new living arrangements, he never brings him up. “Troy is great too, by the way.” I say that to needle him. It would probably ease his mind if I told him April and Troy are together, but if he can’t even acknowledge Troy’s existence, he doesn’t deserve that piece of mind.
“I’ll have to come up there one day to see the new digs.”
You see how he won’t acknowledge Troy? And who says digs?
“Hmm, maybe.” Over my dead body. “Listen Dad, I have to go. I need to get a jumpstart on a project due next week.” Close to the truth, it’s due next month. Po-tay-toe, po-tah-toe.
“Okay, honey. We’ll talk again soon. Let me know if you’re low on cash. And don’t forget, you have the credit card. I notice you’re not using it much. I thought I’d see grocery purchases and things like that.”
I inhale, tip my head back and stare at the ceiling. He means well and I love him, but he just doesn’t understand me and I don’t think he ever will.
“I use it for emergencies, Dad. You know that.”
“I want you to use it for necessities.”
We could go back and forth all day on this, but that would be pointless. “Okay, Dad, I’ll start using it to buy food.” Now are you happy?
“Good.”
Things are always good when he gets his way. I figure it’s better to give in or he’ll start making more noise about coming to visit, and that I want to avoid at all costs.
“Bye, Dad.”
“Bye, Em. Love you.”
“Love you too,” I say before hanging up. I blow out another breath.
April’s big green eyes peer at me over the rim of her mug, her eyebrow raised in question.
“He refuses to acknowledge that I’ve grown up. That I’m an adult and I don’t need him taking care of me…so much.”
April lowers the cup from her mouth and swallows. “Does he know Graham’s here?”
“God no!” The mere thought of it is traumatizing.
“What could he do if he found out? Like you said, you’re an adult. He can’t stop you from seeing him. Plus, twenty and twenty-five isn’t the same as sixteen and twenty-one.”
“I’m more worried about what it would do to Graham, not me. Having to face my father again after what he put him through.” I shiver. “I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy.”
“So what you’re saying is that you and Graham don’t have a future.” She cradles her now empty coffee mug in her hand. “Because that’s not how it looked yesterday.”
The sudden chime of my phone has me visibly starting. Anxious much? I look down at the screen and see the message I’ve been waiting for.
Graham: Just seeing your message. Give me a few and I’ll give you a call. Hoping I can see you today. If you’re free, let me know a good time.
I look up to find April watching me intently.
A knowing smile tips her lips. “A message from Graham?”
I nod, relieved and ridiculously happy.
“Do you realize you’re beaming? Or maybe it’s glowing. What on earth did he say to put that smile on your face? And I don’t care if I’m being nosey. Dish. Unless it’s the kind of phone sex stuff you can’t share,” she teases, her eyes sparking with mischief.
I laugh. “Honestly, it’s really nothing. He just said he’d call me soon and he wants to see me today.”
“Ah, I see. You’re all glowy and happy because he finally texted you back.” When she says it like that, drawing out every word, I feel like such a sap. April lets out a throaty laugh. “Boy, Em, do you know how bad you’ve got it?”
Graham and I are in the getting to know each other all over again stage, so what if getting horizontal and naked kicked it off.
“He said he’d see me at work. What was I supposed to think when he didn’t show up?” I reply defensively.
April studies me intently, her expression sobering. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
Me too. “In order for that to happen, I’d have to be going into this with expectations and that’s definitely not the case. Believe me, my eyes are wide open. Que sera sera, whatever will be, will be, as they say. That’s me.”
“You say that now.”
“And I’ll say that tomorrow, next week and next month. Remember, when he graduates I’ll still have a year left. Stop worrying. I know what I’m doing,” I assure her.
My phone rings as if to test my resolve. Graham’s name flashes on the screen.
Laughing lightly, April slides off her seat and says, “I’m going to take a shower and let you have some privacy to speak to your lover.” With a smile and a wink, she trots around to the kitchen carrying her empty mug.
In an effort to prove to her—and myself—that I have things under control, I let the phone ring one more time before answering.
“Hi.”
“Morning. You sound like you just woke up.”
He sounds divine, his voice deep and his accent extra crisp and sexy sounding.
“Not too long ago,” I say, latching on to that to excuse the breathy quality of my voice. My gaze follows April as she passes me on her way to her bedroom. Only then do I move to the living room and curl up on the couch, tossing the afghan over my legs.
“So are you going to tell me what happened to you last night?” His message wasn’t frantic and his voice doesn’t convey that now. There is a weary edge to his voice though.
“Something came up with my flatmate. He needed me to cover for him and…I couldn’t say no. I owe him a lot.”
“Cover for him how?” I gently persist.
“He promised to do something he couldn’t get out of and asked me to help him out.”
Alrighty then. It’s clear he doesn’t want to tell me and I’m not sure if I have the right to press him on it as I have no idea where we stand. I don’t even know if there is a “we”.
“O-kay,” I say, although I’m reluctant to let the question go unanswered.
If he senses that, it doesn’t seem to bother him because he moves on, his voice now lower, throatier when he poses his question. “Am I going to see you today?”
It takes me less than a second to decide that seeing him is much more important than finding out where he was last night.
I deliberately make the tone of my response light and flirty. “When do you have in mind?”
“Why don’t you come over now?” His question alone might be deemed innocent, but his voice is blatantly sexual.
My body responds to the latter, pebbling my nipples and causing a heavy ache to develop between my thighs. And it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours since he’d been inside me.
I can sum that up with three words; deprivation, insatiability and Graham.
“To your place? What do you have planned?” That’s right, Em, play the tease. Sometimes it’s always good to flex those barely used muscles.
“I thought we might watch a movie,” he replies with all the innocence of a Boy Scout. “Or go for a run,” he adds after a pause, turning it into a game. “Or, since Blake’s not home, we could put a dent in my supply of condoms…”
Aaaand we have a winner with option number three. “Text me your
address. I’m on my way.”
Chapter 26
An hour later, I’m ringing the doorbell to Graham’s apartment. While anticipation sends delicious tingles through my body, nerves have me fussing with my hair and smoothing my palms over my sweater. The sweater is teal with a round neck and raglan sleeves, and I’m wearing my hair loose because I know Graham likes it better that way. Toss in my best ass-defining jeans and one of my new panty and bra sets, I’m dressed to knock him on his ass. In a good way.
The door opens to reveal Graham looking as gorgeous and sexy as ever. While I’m dressed to go out—if necessary—he’s dressed to stay in. His feet are bare and he’s clad in a thin white t-shirt that shows off his roped arms and worn jeans that ride low on his hips.
Eyebrow cocked, he asks, “You look nervous. Having second thoughts?”
I laugh self-consciously. “No.” My nervousness has more to do with self-preservation than anything else. I want to be with him. The question is can my heart handle whatever is or is not happening between us.
Smiling easily, he moves aside, permitting me to enter.
No hug? No kiss? Maybe I read more into his invitation than I should have.
I try to ignore the stab of disappointment and step inside, finding myself in the living area; a room done in black and muted grey, navy blue for accent. To my left is a small dining area housing a chrome, glass-top table with cushy-looking dark green chairs. The kitchen, large for an apartment, lies beyond that. I can only assume the bedrooms are down the hall on my right.
“The layout’s great and I love the decor,” I say, returning my attention to him.
“I had nothing to do with it. It was like this when I moved in. Here, let me get this for you.” Before I can respond, he’s behind me and slips my brown leather jacket off my shoulders.
I turn to him with a grateful smile only to be pulled into his arms and kissed. I’m not sure what turns me on more, the unexpectedness of it or that he takes my mouth like a man eating for the first time after weeks of starvation.
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