Sinfully Star-Crossed

by Elouise East

  “Wow!” The cold air was harsh on Emerson’s warmed throat.

  “Yeah,” Grant responded, little white clouds coming from his mouth. His stomach rumbled, and they both laughed.

  “Come on, let’s get some food.” Emerson led him by the hand towards a food vendor selling waffles. He bought two, handing one to Grant and brought his own to his mouth.

  “You didn’t have to pay for this as well.” Grant frowned.

  “I don’t mind, Grant. Not one bit.” Emerson glanced at him, seeing him frowning still. “If you’d prefer, you can buy next time.” Allowing Grant to pay went against the grain for him, and unless he had no other choice, he would continue to spoil Grant. Emerson wasn’t rolling in money, but he had enough to pay for days out, in spite of having to save for a deposit as well. He wasn’t sure of Grant’s financial situation, but he didn’t want him to pay for things if Grant couldn’t afford to. And there was no polite way of asking without coming across as nosy.

  Grant sighed, then nodded. “Deal.”

  ****

  They parted ways at the subway after Emerson had insisted on walking Grant to his stop. It didn’t make a huge difference to the distance Emerson had to walk; he merely had to head back the way they had come. Grant thanked him again for the hat, scarf and gloves before they kissed goodbye, keeping it brief this time.

  As he strolled back to his apartment, he dissected their day. The date had gone well. They’d laughed, teased, had fun and talked about things that were important to them. The fact he’d kissed Grant, or rather Grant had kissed him, had made things more interesting than he’d hoped for. He didn’t want to push Grant too far, too fast. He was ten years younger than him, which wasn’t a huge age gap, but could make things more difficult between them. It was something they needed to discuss at some point. Although Grant didn’t seem bothered by it. And to be honest, Emerson wasn’t too bothered because Grant appeared to have a good head on his shoulders, rather than being young and impulsive as he realised some guys could be.

  Case in point, his roommate, who at twenty-four acted like he was seventeen. Emerson let himself into the apartment, the noise reaching deafening levels when he opened the door. Some kind of heavy metal band pounded its way out of the speakers, making any potential conversation impossible. He saw Jason and three of his friends, sat side by side on the sofa in front of the largest TV screen—he believed it was eighty-five inches—Emerson had ever seen before he came to live here. The guys were playing, surprise, surprise, a video game.

  He didn’t bother greeting them, simply hurried down the hallway to his room, wishing the soundproofing was better. He could still feel the bass through the floor, but at least the music was muted.

  Emerson laid on his bed, staring at the ceiling, smiling. He felt rejuvenated after the time with Grant, so he would spend the rest of the day on his assignment. Standing up, he pulled off his coat, now he was warmer, and sat at his desk. He sometimes considered the placement of his desk a detriment to his studying due to the view he had and considered moving it several times, but he didn’t have the heart. Looking out, he had a perfect view of Central Park, he could see the tops of one of the buildings at the zoo if he leaned close to the windowpane. He hoped he’d be able to concentrate with everything that had happened there today. And with the pounding beat still coming from the main room, he wished he could work with music because he could’ve put some headphones in and listened to something more soothing, but he needed silence or as close to it as he could get.

  He booted up his computer after dragging his eyes away from the view and read over the last paragraph of his writing before remembering where he’d finished off last night. Trying to drown out the noise, he started working.

  Forty minutes later, he gave up. He packed his things back in his bag, grabbed his coat and left his room. The guys were still where he’d last seen them, and, again, he didn’t say anything. Leaving the apartment, he headed for a café nearby. It wouldn’t be silent, but it would be better than before.

  Settling into the booth with his cappuccino, Emerson retrieved his coursework and tried again. This time, despite the distracting thoughts of Grant, he was more successful.

  Chapter 5

  Grant

  Grant’s cheeks ached the whole journey home, his smile firmly in place. As he arrived at his door, he saw a note stuck to the front:

  Remember dinner tonight, 6pm. Adam

  He hadn’t forgotten, but he hoped his smile would dim a little before he got there. Otherwise, he’d get the Spanish Inquisition from them all. Checking his watch, he had over two hours. He decided to attempt to read through the assignment he’d finished the previous night. It might calm him down a bit.

  Removing his coat after closing the door, he grabbed a drink and sat at the table before turning on his computer. While he waited for it to start, he set his alarm on his phone for five-thirty; it would give him enough time to get changed and shuffle the short distance to the main house.

  As he read through the assignment, Grant had to keep refocusing because his mind kept returning to Emerson and how fantastic the day had been. In the short time since they’d met, Grant‘s emotions had become more involved than was wise. Frowning, he sat back. Was it because Emerson was one of the first people to see him as a person rather than as the next notch on the bedpost? He didn’t believe so but couldn’t deny the possibility. Emerson’s interest in him could not be denied, either.

  He jumped when his alarm blared. Silencing it, he closed his computer, having read less than a couple of pages. He would have to reread them, though, as he couldn’t remember a word of it.

  At five to six, after showering and changing, he left his place and stepped to the back door of the main house. He knocked and entered, still uneasy doing so alone, though Adam’s parents had told him to come in whenever he wanted.

  “Grant! So glad you could join us,” Mrs Sundberg—Emmaline—greeted as she sauntered towards him, her arms spread wide.

  “Thanks for having me.” Grant hugged her back. It was one thing he missed receiving from his own mother.

  “You’re always welcome, Grant, you know that. Go, sit.” She indicated a seat at the table.

  “Is there anything you need help with?” he asked Emmaline, manners deeply embedded in his genetics.

  She waved him away. “No, no. Go visit with Theo and Adam.”

  “Hello there, Grant. How is your coursework coming along?” Theo asked.

  Grant sat next to Theo—Mr Sundberg—at the table. “Good, thanks. Glad I’ve almost finished this semester. I’m ready for a break.” Grant sighed.

  “Not much longer. You can do it,” Adam said.

  “How long are you here for?” Grant asked Adam.

  “I’m here until the day after Christmas, then head out for three weeks.”

  “It’s going to be great having you around again for a while, son. We’ve all missed you.” Theo clapped Adam on the shoulder.

  “You’ve not spent Christmas with us yet, have you, Grant?” Emmaline asked, coming in holding some dishes.

  “No, ma’am.”

  “You’ll be in for a treat, trust me.” Adam grinned. “They go all out for the kids in the neighbourhood. It’s a sight to behold.” Adam gazed at his parents, love shining from his expression.

  Grant’s heart skipped a beat. It had been months since he had spoken to his family. The last phone call he’d received was from his mother asking if he had changed his ways and wanted to come home. He’d told her he was still the same person he had always been, and nothing had changed. He’d heard her sob, and she put the phone down, no goodbye or anything. Seven months and counting.

  He would be expected home for Christmas, but he’d decided a few weeks ago, for his own sanity, he would be staying in New York. He would’ve been happy to spend it alone if he hadn’t been extended an invitation to celebrate it with Adam and his family.

  During dinner, Grant was grilled about every aspect of
his life, and he, unfortunately, let slip about going out with Emerson.

  “Ooh, really. Where did you meet him? What does he do? Where did he take you?” Emmaline fired the questions at him in rapid succession.

  “Mom! Give him a chance to answer one question before you ask the next! How’s he supposed to get a word in?” Adam sniggered as he faux-scolded his mother.

  “Sorry, Grant. I’m excited for you. So, where did you meet him?” She waited patiently for his answer, fork poised above her plate.

  He cleared his throat, uneasy with the focus being on him. “I met him at the library.”

  “Oh, how wonderful. You have books in common.”

  “We are also both studying for our master’s degrees and finish at the same time,” he offered.

  Adam, eyebrows raised, glanced over at him. “That’s handy. What’s he studying?”

  “He’s a middle school teacher at present and is studying to become a speech pathologist.” He hoped Emerson didn’t mind him talking about him. He’d have to remember to mention it when they next spoke.

  “Amazing! You’ll have to invite him for Thanksgiving dinner,” Emmaline decreed.

  “Oh…um, I don’t know if he’s busy. Um…but I can ask,” Grant offered.

  “Wonderful. The more, the merrier. Eh, Emmaline dear?” Theo asked his wife with a smile.

  “Of course! We don’t like an empty house when it’s time to celebrate.”

  The dinner continued in a similar fashion. Questions were asked and answered by both Adam and him, plans were created for Thanksgiving and Christmas, the vacation Emmaline and Theo were going on in the new year was discussed. And Grant enjoyed every single minute of it.

  He’d never had this with his family. But, for now, he could share it with Adam’s.

  ****

  Grant spent the weekend alternating between finishing his current assignments and messaging or speaking with Emerson on the phone. They both had a great deal of work to get done and had decided to spend it apart so they could work better; Grant wasn’t sure it worked because Emerson dominated his thoughts.

  By the end of the weekend, he had made good progress through his last assignment. He had three online classes to attend on Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday, where he would no doubt get another assignment set. He had to keep remembering he only had just over a week of classes before he had Thanksgiving week off, then two more weeks and he was done for the fall semester. Although he would have some studying to do for the fall finals in January, he had three weeks off once the semester was done.

  After visiting Bad Apple Café on his way to work Monday morning—and grabbing Clarissa a cup this time—he entered the library and found the place in chaos.

  He stood in the foyer, gazing around, which was where Clarissa found him.

  “Ah, Grant. I’m glad you’re here! We must finish getting ready. The event is supposed to start in one hour!” she hollered as if her tone wasn’t enough to get across her point. “Ooh, is that for me?” she asked, eyeing the second cup in his hands.

  He wordlessly passed it over, before regaining his composure. “What event?”

  “The author talks and signings! Didn’t you see it in the diary?”

  Grant shook his head. “What’s happened?”

  “Nothing has happened, Grant. The library is adding some extra chairs and tables and a projection screen. This happens every time we host these events.” She sipped her coffee and hummed in delight.

  “I’ve never seen this before. How often do we host them?”

  “Oh, once or twice a year. The last time we held one was…just before you arrived, I believe.”

  Typical, this week was going to be busy.

  “What happens about the people who simply want to visit the library?”

  “They can still come in, obviously. We simply have to keep them away from the author area, but there will be signs and rope barriers to stop people from going where they can’t.”

  “What do you need me to do?” She needed something; otherwise, she would’ve left him to it.

  “I would like you to take charge of making sure everything runs smoothly with the general library once the guests and authors get here. I will be assisting the author with anything they need, and you are required to see to the running of the rest of the library. I have called in Samantha to help, but she cannot get here until twelve. Until then, it is up to us.”

  A flutter of triumph flowed through Grant’s body. This was his chance to shine, so to speak. If he could run the library, almost single-handedly while Clarissa dealt with the author, maybe he’d be seen in a better light when it came to applying for a position.

  “Sure,” he agreed.

  “Let’s get to it. Library opens in half an hour.” Clarissa stalked off towards her office, probably to sit and drink her coffee, but Grant didn’t care. He almost ran to the lockers and divested himself of his things and shot out to the counter. He could see clearly what was happening now that he was closer, and it seemed like they were expecting quite a turnout. He mentally ran through the things which needed to be done before opening. He was vibrating with excitement.

  ****

  Grant was kept surprisingly busy during the morning, both helping regular library customers and the additional needs for the visiting guests, and he revelled in it. Samantha clocked in at twelve, and he was finally able to take a breather and grab another drink. Once he was positioned back at the counter, his gaze swept across the levels, trying to see if anything needed to be done. It was then he saw Emerson sat at a table on the first floor, right near the edge, watching him. Grant couldn’t see his expression as Emerson was too far away, but he saw him hold up a hand in a wave.

  Grant waved back. Seeing nothing which needed his immediate attention, he told Samantha he was going to return some books to the shelves, and he’d be back shortly. He would return the books to the shelves; he was merely going to go and speak with Emerson, too. Winding his way up the stairs, he returned several books as he passed, heading for the table where Emerson sat.

  “Hey, stranger!” Emerson said, rising from his seat.

  “Hey you.” Grant smiled.

  Emerson wrapped his arms around Grant’s waist and pulled him close. Grant placed the books on the corner of the table to free his hands and linked them behind Emerson’s neck.

  “How have you been?” Emerson asked, breath skating over Grant’s cheek as he pressed a kiss there.

  “Good,” Grant answered, eyes closing, head tilting to the side.

  “I missed you.” Emerson rested a hand against the back of Grant’s head.

  “God, I missed you, too,” Grant replied, head dropping back as Emerson kissed him. He clutched at Emerson’s hair as Emerson seized control of the kiss, licking inside Grant’s mouth, rubbing their tongues together, sucking the air from his lungs. All Grant could do was hold on as Emerson took—and gave—everything.

  Eventually, they pulled away, gasping for breath, foreheads resting together. The sound of laughter brought Grant back to himself, and he pulled away further. “I have to work.”

  “I know. You’re busy today.”

  “And for the next three days, I’m afraid. We have three authors doing this each day, and while Clarissa is sucking up to them, I get to play librarian and have something else to add to my resume.”

  “That’s great! You’re amazing at it.” Emerson sounded so sure, and Grant settled more into his role.

  “Thanks. I’ll try and catch you when I next have a few moments, alright?”

  “Sure. If you’re busy, don’t worry. Just message me when you get home, okay?”

  Grant nodded, and after pressing a final kiss to Emerson’s lips, he left.

  “Grant?” Emerson called behind him.

  “Yes?” He twisted to see Emerson holding out the library books Grant was supposed to be returning to the stacks. His cheeks coloured and shuffled back, grabbed them, planted another kiss on Emerson and strode away.


  Chapter 6

  Emerson

  By Wednesday lunchtime, Emerson was frustrated. He knew Grant had a job to do, but he hadn’t managed to grab him for more than a few minutes at a time over the last few days. By the time Grant had finished work, Grant was exhausted and went home to bed. Emerson noticed this new responsibility was wearing on Grant; he could see it on Grant’s face, but he understood Grant wouldn’t change any of it. Grant needed the experience, which was why Emerson had been patient, but he wanted to help him relax before Grant wore himself out.

  So, Emerson went into the library after lunch with a plan. First, he brought Grant some drink and food he could eat quickly without fuss—Lola had helped him choose the best option. Next, Emerson found a table on the third floor of the library—the highest spot—where Grant would still be able to see down to the counter should he need to.

  Once he was situated there, he watched and waited. After Emerson had observed Grant eat his lunch—which he did at the counter—Emerson leaned on the glass wall staring down towards Grant, waiting for him to see where he was.

  He watched Grant scan the library, and Emerson assumed Grant had realised he wasn’t on the first floor as he had been the past few days. Once Emerson had caught Grant’s attention, he motioned for Grant to join him. Grant nodded and held up his hand, fingers splayed wide. Emerson assumed it meant he’d be there in five minutes.

  Emerson continued to watch Grant as he carried out his duties. Grant spoke to the girl behind the counter, who nodded, and he sauntered towards the stairs. Emerson pulled back and stood to the side of the table, waiting for Grant to arrive.

  Emerson was a little nervous, but Grant needed this. And so did Emerson. Grant didn’t take long; whether he was as excited to see him or because he was busy, Emerson didn’t know and didn’t care.

  Grant came right up to him and wrapped his arms around his neck. “Hey, you,” he whispered. “Sorry I’ve been busy.” Grant rested his head against his shoulder and sighed.