The After of Us (Judge Me Not Spin-off)

by S. R. Grey

  Trailing my hand down her side, over the swell of her hip, I playfully ask, “Show you what?”

  “How you would’ve gone easier on me.”

  My cock stirs. I can’t deny that I like how I’m the only man who’s ever been inside this girl. And I want to be inside her again. In fact, I want her over and over. But this time, this next shot, it’s going to be solely for her.

  The second time I have Emma Metzger, I do everything for her. I’m careful and gentle, and when, at the end, she calls out my name, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that she is now all mine.

  Only problem is, I’m beginning to feel overwhelmed, maybe even a little bit trapped. And I can’t help but ask myself, with all my newfound responsibilities regarding Lily, do I really want something serious with Emma?

  Emma

  Will doesn’t stay the rest of the night. He tells me it’s because he knows I have to work the next day, he says I need to get my sleep.

  Yeah, right.

  I sense his departure is due to something else entirely, like, say, maybe I scared him off with the whole virgin thing. Sure, he mentioned giving dating a try when he first arrived last night. But that was before we had sex. I’m sure he never expected me to be so inexperienced. Hell, he probably thinks because of that that I’m in love with him now. And though I do like Will quite a lot, I don’t love him.

  He was spooked, though, no doubt about that. After the second time we had sex, he got dressed right away. And yes, he kissed me good-bye and said he’d call, but I’m not holding my breath. Just because I was a virgin until yesterday doesn’t mean I’m clueless about men and their shady ways.

  Still, though… Do I plan to let Will blow me off without an explanation?

  Not a chance.

  On Tuesday, when he brings Lily to daycare, I corner him in a hall and ask him if we can go to lunch so we can talk about what happened.

  He hems and haws, shifting from one foot to the other.

  Finally, he says, “Uh, I don’t think today is going to work. I’m supposed to meet Chase in a few. He wants me to take a look around a job site and decide whether or not I want to work for him. You know, building houses and shit.”

  I know Will needs a job now that he’s given up the one in New York, but I can’t imagine glancing around a work site is something that takes all day.

  With that in mind, I press. “What time are you supposed to meet Chase? We could go to lunch before or after.”

  Will looks at his watch. “I’m supposed to meet him at ten. And it could take a while.”

  I resist the urge to roll my eyes at his persistence in pretending this will turn into an all-day event.

  “Okay, fine. What about tonight, then?” I counter, abandoning the lunch idea. “I could make us dinner.”

  “Uh…”

  Before he outright declines, I hurriedly add, “You could bring Lily, if you want.”

  There, that’s about as non-date as one can get.

  Will reluctantly accepts, and we finalize the details before he leaves.

  After work, I race home to start on dinner. I decide to go with something simple: salad and spaghetti. Plus, kids love spaghetti, right? Crap, I sure hope Lily does.

  My worry turns out to be for naught, as Will shows up alone. Alone, and looking sexy as hell, in faded jeans and an ecru button-down, I might add.

  Gesturing with a bottle of red wine in his hand, he says, “I brought us some wine for tonight, since I’m flying solo.”

  I smile and accept his gift. “Thanks,” I say. And then, stepping back, I beckon for him to follow me to the kitchen.

  “So,” I toss out over my shoulder, “why didn’t Lily want to come along? I made spaghetti, hoping she’d like it.”

  “Lily loves spaghetti,” Will tells me as I stop at the stove and stir the pasta. “But she wanted to stay at the house and play with Sarah.” He leans his hip against the side of a counter. “They were deeply involved in a tea party for a bunch of stuffed animals. I couldn’t end that, you know?”

  I laugh, look over at him. “Well, I guess it’s just you and me, then.”

  “Guess so.”

  I’m wearing the same clingy purple dress I had on the first day Will ever brought Lily to daycare. I noticed him checking me out that day, and I catch him doing the same thing now. Just as I hoped he would. After all, a girl has to bring her A-game if she expects to win the prize. And, to me, Will is a prize. I want to take a stab at a relationship with him. I think we could be good. He’s either going to give this burgeoning relationship a chance—like he said he wanted to—or at least give me a damn good reason why we shouldn’t try.

  Dinner ends up going smoothly. We eat, drink wine, and talk. I tell Will the wine he brought is outstanding. I don’t know if it really is, but it sure does tastes good. And it definitely takes the edge off.

  Once the dishes are cleared, I suggest we move to the sofa and have another glass, or two.

  “So, Will.” I pour a second glass of wine for myself. “How’d your meeting with Chase go today?” I lean back in the crook of the sofa, curling my legs up under me and exposing lots of thigh in the process.

  Let’s show this boy what he’ll be missing if he runs for the hills.

  My efforts don’t go unnoticed. Will takes a slow sip of wine, glancing at my legs. When he lowers his glass, he licks his lips. I am instantly aroused as I recall all the sinful things Will did with his tongue the other night.

  Clearing my throat, and getting a grip, I say, “So, I’m assuming it went well, yes?”

  His eyes flicker to my face. “What went well?”

  Ah, I have him flustered. Good.

  “Your meeting with Chase, of course.”

  “Oh.” Will leans forward and sets his wineglass on the coffee table. “Yes, it went really well.”

  “So, are you going to take the job?”

  Will nods. “Yeah, I think so. But I told Chase I only want a couple of days a week. Nothing more. I still plan on looking for some freelance work.”

  “Oh, that’s right,” I say as I suddenly recall Will’s one-time dream. “Does that mean you still have plans to have your comic book published?”

  Will’s brows go up in surprise. “You actually remember me telling you that, all those years ago at the reception?”

  I smile at him. “Yeah, actually I do.”

  Will reaches for his wineglass and takes a small sip. “If I do go that route, I think I’d want to turn my comic book into a graphic novel first. But yeah, bottom line is I still hope to see it in print someday.”

  “I’d like to see your work.” I pause. “If you don’t mind, that is.”

  Will actually blushes, melting me further. I suppose I do like him more than I should. Hell, I know I could fall for him. Completely, if he’d let me.

  “Yeah, sure,” he says. “I’m flattered you’re even interested in taking a look at the things I’ve drawn.”

  “Of course I’m interested, Will.”

  Our eyes meet and a million unsaid things pass, but then he looks away. “Can I ask you something, Emma?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  Will downs the rest of his wine and sets the glass on the coffee table, this time with a loud clink. “Why were you waiting to have sex?”

  I blow out a breath. “I don’t know. It wasn’t some great moral decision, if that’s what you’re thinking. I had dozens of chances at college with the various guys I dated. But, I don’t know… I guess none of them seemed worth it. I was probably, stupidly, waiting for someone special to come into my life.”

  “And he never came around?”

  Carefully, I reply, “No, not back then.”

  “Emma,” Will says on a sigh. “I have a lot on my plate right now—”

  “I know, Will”

  “Just hear me out, okay?” I nod, and he goes on. “Not only am I taking care of a daughter I never knew existed, but I’m back to searching for a job in my field. The recruiter w
ho landed me the job in New York City handed me off to another recruiter, one who can hopefully find me a few freelance advertising gigs. Still, it’s going to take some time, especially for me to get my name and work out there. That’s why I took the job with Chase. I may have a trust fund, but I can’t sit around all day and do nothing.”

  I drink down the last of my wine, hoping to build up some courage. “Look, Will,” I say, twirling the stem of the empty wineglass between my fingers. “You were the one who came to my door the other night. You asked for a second chance. You were the one who said you wanted to see where this thing between us might go.”

  “Yes, I did all those things.”

  “So, what changed?”

  He can’t look me in the eyes when he says, “It just felt different, you know…after we had sex.”

  I scoff in reply, “You mean after you found out it had been my first time.”

  His eyes flitter over to me for an instant. Then, he’s back to staring down at his hands. Quietly, he says, “It suddenly seemed like things were moving way too fast. You know, like maybe you were about to expect a lot from me.”

  “Will, please.” I am sure to make my annoyance known.

  Still, he goes on. “Look, I know it makes me sound like a prick, but I just don’t have that much to give you right now.”

  He’s not entirely wrong in his perception of what I want from him. My feelings for him are intense, and I’d love it if he felt the same way. Maybe in time? For now, though, I don’t want to scare him off.

  Grasping at straws to keep this thing between us alive, I tone down the intensity of my feelings, and say, “I think you read it wrong, Will.”

  He raises a brow. “I did?”

  “Uh-huh. Just because I was looking for Mr. Right in college doesn’t mean that’s how I feel now. I told you, I was just sick of waiting.”

  “Oh.”

  He sounds miffed. Doesn’t feel so good to be used, does it, Will?

  “I just went with the flow the other night,” I continue. “You can’t deny there’s an intense chemistry between us.” He nods, agreeing, and I add, “Well, it got the better of us both, and what happened, happened.”

  Skeptically, Will asks, “That’s really how you see it? That cut and dry?”

  “Yes,” I fib.

  He exhales in what I suspect is relief, and my heart suffers the blow. Shit, he’s glad. I obviously like Will way more than I should. Too bad my feelings for him aren’t so easily turned off. And if I sleep with him again, forget it. I will end up falling for him completely. Crap.

  Lucky for me, my heart is spared when Will says, “Still, I think we should slow things down considerably.”

  I reply, probably a little too quickly, “I couldn’t agree more.”

  Will peers over at me, like he’s trying to figure out what’s in my head. But he’ll never know, not when things are this uncertain between us.

  Finally, he says, “We should probably go somewhere where we’re not alone.”

  He’s right. The urge to be together again is just too strong.

  “Where do you want to go?” I ask.

  Standing, he offers me his hand. “How about we go see a movie?”

  Before I take his hand, and because I have a shred of dignity left, I raise a brow. “Is this a date?”

  “Do you want this to be a date?”

  I nod. “I think so.”

  Chuckling, Will says, “Then, yes, it’s a date.”

  I take his hand.

  One date leads to two, and then two to three. And, soon enough, Will and I are officially “dating.” We do as agreed, too—we take things slowly. That means no sex, which isn’t easy for either of us.

  Thank God we can still kiss like crazy, seeing as I love kissing Will Gartner. He’s so good at it. He has a way of making me feel like I’m sexy and beautiful and he needs to devour me.

  We kiss a lot—in Will’s car, on my sofa, outside the cinema, on the sidewalks in front of restaurants—everywhere, really. As far as I’m concerned, his lips can’t be on me nearly enough.

  We also learn to savor the tease and the promise of more. I know when we’re together again it will be amazing, especially since we’re building a friendship first this time around.

  But friendship is far from Will’s mind when, during one of our heated make-out sessions, this particular one occurring on my sofa, he groans in my ear, “I can’t wait much longer, Emma. I fucking want you so much.”

  It’s not his words alone that make me almost give in. No, it’s the wanton need and lust in his tone, and the way he’s grinding into me.

  I fight to remain strong. The wait will be worth it, I remind myself.

  Kissing along Will’s freshly shaven jaw, I whisper, “Not yet,”—he groans—“but soon.”

  A flurry of hot kisses is then deposited on one cheek and down my neck.

  And finally, against my collarbone, Will whispers what I’ve longed to hear, “You’re making me fall for you, Emma Metzger.”

  “Good,” I whisper back. “Because I’ve already fallen for you, Will Gartner.”

  Will

  I like Emma, I do. We go to movies and restaurants and binge-watch TV shows at her apartment. Most nights, though, we only make it through an episode or two. We grow restless, distracted by each other and the extreme passion between us. Those times, we kiss and grind on the sofa, leaving me to have to take care of things for myself back at the farmhouse. Christ, it’s like being a teen again.

  But I like this waiting. Being with Emma the next time will be worth it.

  Okay, okay, yes, she’s also becoming important to me. And because of that we start to do a lot with Lily. My daughter adores Emma, and why wouldn’t she? Emma treats Lily like she’s her own. It’s not an act, either. I really believe Emma loves my little Lil.

  Other things are good too.

  On the work front, apart from my job with Chase, I land a cool freelance gig. It’s just a small job for a regional food chain, but still, it’s a start. The company’s marketing people want me to come up with a summer advertising campaign, one highlighting how very kid-friendly the chain is.

  After a long day at one of Chase’s work sites, I stop by the farmhouse, take a quick shower, and, with Lily in tow, head over to Emma’s place. The plan is to brainstorm with her about which direction I should take with this advertising project.

  An hour later, with storyboards spread across the coffee table in her living room, Emma and I fall into a heated debate on whether to include the chain’s famous talking brownie in the campaign.

  “The talking brownie is in all the campaigns, Will,” Emma says, insistent that this is the way to go.

  “That’s exactly why I think we should mix it up and ditch the brownie,” I counter.

  “Kids love that brownie, though. And this campaign is supposed to focus on the kid’s menu, right?”

  “Yeah, yeah, I guess.” I run my hand through my hair, at an impasse. “Let’s ask Lily what she thinks,” I suggest.

  Lily is on the floor, coloring some random cartoon character in a coloring book.

  “Hey, Lil,” I say. “Can I ask you a question?”

  Without looking up, she replies in a totally serious voice, “I’m kinda busy.”

  I snicker. The girl is too much sometimes.

  “Well, when you have a minute, Daddy needs your input.”

  She peers up at me. “What in-put mean?”

  I love her endless curiosity. “It’s like an opinion.”

  She taps a crayon to her chin, and I just about lose it. She’s seen me do that move a hundred times when I’m working through something. Not with a crayon, but usually with a pen, or a colored pencil, often when I’m drawing with her.

  Emma grabs my arm and squeezes. “She’s such a mini-you,” she whispers, her free hand flying to her mouth to suppress a giggle.

  When Lily adds in a contemplative nod, Emma squeezes harder. Now, we’re both trying hard as h
ell not to laugh. How stinking cute is this kid?

  “Yes,” Lily says, at last. “I think I can give you my in-put, Daddy.”

  “Thanks, Lil.”

  I show her the storyboards with the brownie, holding them up against the ones I drew without the silly chocolate character. “Which ones do you like best, sweetheart?” I ask.

  More contemplation, more chin tapping, and finally an answer. “I like the brownie.”

  Emma pumps her fist in victory since she called it. “Yes!”

  I roll my eyes. “Women,” I mutter.

  But truthfully, these are my girls and I wouldn’t trade them for the world.

  My little girl is well aware she has me wrapped around her finger, so she knows I won’t deny her when she asks out of the blue, “Can we go get ice cream?”

  “Sure,” I reply.

  See, I’m a pushover. And, yeah, okay, I spoil my kid. But she deserves it. Lily’s a pretty good little girl. She accepts her life here in Harmony Creek, and rarely, if ever, asks about her old life, including her mother.

  I sigh as I think about Cassie. Shit. I know if I intend to keep Lily—and I do—I need to reach out to my ex-girlfriend and have her sign full custody over to me. Otherwise, she could come back into our lives and cause trouble. I sure as hell don’t need trouble, not when everything has been going so well.

  Emma, picking up on my worry, whispers, “Is everything okay?”

  I watch as she sits on the floor to help Lily put on her sneakers. Do I see a future with Emma in my life and Lily’s?

  Yeah, I think I do.

  Smiling, I lean down and kiss Emma lightly on the lips. “Everything is awesome, babe.”

  Emma

  On a hot July day, Will decides to move into the apartment above the garage at Chase’s place. It’s not a totally out-of-the-blue decision. He’s already checked into other options, including viewing a neighboring apartment at my complex. In the end, though, he’s chosen to stay at the farmhouse, for Lily’s sake. She loves her cousins dearly, and Will claims he can’t bear to separate them a mere month and a half after Lily’s mother abandoned her.

  “She needs stability,” Will tells me at the end of moving day as we discuss his decision.