by Beck, J. L.
“I wasn’t going to say anything about the couch, but since you brought it up. It is kind of ugly,” she snickers and a smile spreads across her face. It’s the biggest smile I’ve seen her give before, and I seriously have to stop myself from pulling out my phone and snapping a picture, just so I can keep this moment fresh in my mind forever.
We make a quick drive to the furniture store, and pick out a tan sectional for the living room. Emerson cringes at the price, but I don’t care. I simply pull out my card and swipe it. A couple of the guys that work there help load it into the truck and then we’re off to the grocery store. Since neither of us are all that good at cooking, our list is short.
The entire time throughout the store, we walk hand in hand, and I can’t help but feel like people are staring at us. It’s not like I haven’t held a girl’s hand before, but I guess I’ve never held it with the intention of something other than sex.
“I’m thinking maybe ten to fifteen frozen pizzas. We could always buy different toppings to give us some variety. Mushrooms, onions, peppers, you know.”
“Pizza sounds great… I like Hawaiian style.”
Gasping, I say, “Pineapple doesn’t go on pizza.” I act outraged, but inside, I’m overjoyed to see her come out of her shell. A few days ago, she was too timid to tell me what she likes to eat, or even talk but now she’s speaking up and I’ve never been happier to hear a woman talk in my life.
Emerson’s eyes light up and I swear she’s close to laughter. “Are you a pizza god or something?”
“He’s a god alright, but it ain’t of pizza, sweetheart,” a familiar voice filled with flirt sounds behind me. Emerson’s smile fades and her grip on my hand tightens. Fire fills my belly as I swing around, coming face to face with Brad and Paul, two guys I’ve known since we played baseball together in middle school. Jocks, assholes, popular douche-bags. Like me…
“What’s up, Clark?” Paul greets me with a cocky grin. “Haven’t seen you in a hot minute.” His eyes darted away from me and roam over Emerson or what he can see of her since I’m shielding her with my body as best as I can.
“I’ve been busy,” I say, my voice clipped. I don’t feel like fucking talking to them right now. They’re assholes at their finest and that’s the last thing Emerson should have to deal with right now. I know classes are right around the corner and I can’t protect her from everything, but I can protect her from these two douches.
“I can see that.” Brad tilts his head, obviously gawking at Emerson. I grit my teeth and try and cool my heated blood. I have to keep myself in check so I don’t squeeze Emerson’s hand any tighter, because if I do, I might crush it.
“Quit looking at her,” I growl, like a fucking dog protecting his territory. Might as well piss on her leg, Clark. Brad and Paul exchange a look, their eyes bulging out of their sockets.
“Dude, since when do you date? Or care if we check out your girls?” Asshole Brad asks, and I kind of want to shove my fist down his throat.
My girls? Fuck. I can’t imagine what Emerson thinks of me right now.
“Since now, so stop fucking staring.”
Paul rolls his eyes, obviously thinking I’m being dramatic or some shit while Brad continues to gawk as if he’s watching a train wreck that he can’t look away from.
Douchebags.
A feeling I’ve never felt before in my life creeps up my spine, and at first, I can’t pinpoint then I catch Paul staring again too, and I know exactly what it is I’m feeling. Jealousy. It leaves a sour taste in my mouth and a burning rage in my veins. I stare daggers at both of the guys, both my supposed friends, teammates, willing them to get lost and not come back.
“Okaaaay,” Paul finally says, drawing the ‘a’ out for a few seconds. “Well, this was awkward…let us know when you’re done with your flavor of the week, and maybe we can swap or something.”
Motherfucking. Fuck. No way will I be able to look at Emerson after this. I used to think fucking an endless amount of women was fun, stacking ‘em up like cordwood, but now I’m sickened by the thought of it alone.
“See you around, I guess,” Brad adds and they both finally walk away, leaving me with an embarrassing mess.
Slowly I turn around, keeping my head low as I meet Emerson’s eyes. “I’m sorry, they are jerks.”
“You don’t have to apologize. You don’t owe me anything. I don’t care about your past, or your present. We’re friends, Clark, and friends don’t care who friends sleep with.” She tries her best to keep her voice even, but even I can hear the slight tremble in it.
I’m not sure if she is shaken from the conversation with the guys or if she is lying, and simply saying it to weaken the low blows those assholes took on me. Either way, the words sting a little more than I expected them to.
Desperate to change the subject and lighten the mood, I say, “Let’s go home and eat one of these exotic pizzas with pineapples on it. Maybe you can change my mind after all.”
Emerson’s eyes light up, but not like before, and the smile on her lips is gone now proving to me that what those assholes said got to her somehow.
Fuck… and to think I thought I was making headway.
54
Emerson
The grocery store was painfully awkward, so when we pull into the driveway of the condo, I’m beyond grateful to be back home. Home. It’s so strange to think this is going to be my new home, our new home. I still haven’t wrapped my head around everything that’s taken place today, and I know it’s going to take me some time to digest it. Change is hard on me, but with Clark by my side, it’s becoming easier. I’m terrified at the thought of needing him, of losing him but try my hardest not to focus on it.
It isn’t until we’re parked in the driveway that we realize there is no way I would be able to help Clark get this oversized, bulky, sectional moved inside.
“I could try to help you,” I announce meekly, knowing damn well that I won't be able to lift that thing.
“No, it’s fine. I’ll call a friend,” he tells me, frustration wrinkling his forehead and I immediately recoil. I just met two of his friends and I don’t think I can handle any more of that tonight. I try and hide my distaste of the idea but with one look I know he’s already seen it. “A real friend, Em, those guys at the store were not my friends. Maybe they used to be, but not anymore. I’ll call Vance, he’s my best friend, you’ll like him… once you get to know him.” Looking up from his phone, he adds, “I only ask that you give him a chance. He’s a little rough around the edges.”
What does that mean? I try not to dwell on the thought as Clark calls his friend and instead gather up the groceries. Clark gives me a displeased look before hanging up the phone and then grabs them from me and starts walking up the front steps.
“You know I’m not broken, right? I can carry groceries.”
“Yeah, but why should you when I’m here.” He winks and starts up the walkway. I fell into step behind him, wondering if this is going to be the norm. Once inside the house, I close the door behind us, and head into the kitchen where Clark has deposited the grocery bags.
“I don’t want to worry you, but Vance is a little intense. He won’t hurt you or anything, but he comes off pretty brash.”
“Okay,” I reply, unsure of how I should react to his friend.
“Ava, on the other hand, you’re going to like. She’ll be coming with him.” Clark gives me a reassuring smile that makes my heart do a little flip flop in my chest.
“Ava?” I asked, cocking my head to the side.
“Yes, Ava. She’s his stepsister, and well…” Clark’s eyes light up with amusement as if he’s reliving a fond memory. “Just wait, you’ll see.”
We are in the kitchen putting the groceries in the fridge when we hear a car pull up. Clark walks to the door, opening it before a knock can even sound against the wooden door.
“Hey guys,” he says, gesturing for them to come in. A guy, who I’m assuming is Vance and a girl w
ho has to be Ava walk in together. Both look around, taking in the place until their eyes fall on me standing in the kitchen. I can’t imagine how all this looks to them. My teeth sink into my bottom lip, worrying the flesh nervously while I wring my hands together in front of me.
“What the fuck’s going on?” Vance asks, confusion glittering his voice. He looks like a brute, like a bad boy, Clark is the complete opposite. Next to him, Ava blinks, a slow smile forming on her lips. She’s impossibly pretty with big eyes, blemish-free skin, and brown hair that reminds me of a chocolate waterfall. I don’t know how I could ever compete against someone like her, and a sliver of jealousy forms in my gut when I think about who she is to him.
Clark shoves a hand into his hair, his fingers gliding through his glossy brown locks. “Ava, Vance. Meet Emerson, my girlfriend.”
Girlfriend?
“Girlfriend?” Vance stutters, echoing my thoughts exactly as I feel it.
“Yup. Girlfriend,” Clark confirms, his voice stern. “Emerson, this is Vance, my best friend, and Ava, my second best friend.”
“Hi,” I say, my voice quiet, even though I’m trying my best to sound confident or at least normal. I have this weird desire to look good in front of Clark’s friends. I want them to like me, and I don’t want to make Clark look bad or disappoint him. He’s done so much for me, this is the least I can do. I’ll pretend to be whatever he wants right now, and ask him why later on.
“Explain,” Vance orders his friend, but Clark shakes his head.
“I will…later.”
Vance opens his mouth, clearly about to demand answers, but Ava tugs on his arm, attempting to distract him from what I assume would be an argument between the two guys.
“Why don’t we stay for a little while, have a drink, catch up, and you can show us your new place?” My eyes flicker between Vance and Clark, an internal tug of war taking place. While looking at them, I can’t help but notice how different they are. Both of them are extremely attractive, but there’s this darkness that lingers around Vance. It’s almost like he hates the world and he’s giving it the middle finger. Where Clark is light, flirty, and funny, Vance is the opposite and I know this without even knowing him.
So how did they become friends?
I pull my gaze from the two of them and move it to Ava whose eyes flicker with excitement as she elbows Vance in the side. Finally he turns to look down at her, the anger and confusion in his eyes melting away almost instantly, leaving adoration and love in its place. Seconds ago I was worried that maybe she was one of Clark’s exes or maybe even someone special to him, but I can see now that the apple of her eye isn’t Clark at all.
“Alright, let’s have a drink.” Vance glowers, his gaze swinging back to Clark. Ava’s smile widens, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction as the pair enter deeper into the house, the door closing us all inside.
“How long have you guys been dating?” Vance questions, and for the first time ever, his eyes are on me, piercing through me. Under his penetrating gaze, it feels like he can see me, really see me and I don’t like it. Feeling self-conscious, I drop my eyes to the floor.
“Uhhh, it’s new,” Clark interjects coming to stand beside me. “Only about a week.” His hand finds its way into mine, and he squeezes it letting me know he’s here, letting me know he’s got me.
“A week?” Vance snorts, clearly not believing Clark’s lie of us being a couple. “I’ve never seen you with a chick longer than it takes you to fuck them and toss the condom. She must be something special if she’s got you fucking her more than once.”
My breath hitches at his words, at the confession of who my knight really is. I know I said I didn’t care about his past, but I can’t help but take notice of the fact that he was clearly a manwhore not all that long ago.
“Vance…” Clark growls and releases my hand to walk toward his friend. With a murderous look in his eyes, he grabs him by the arm and pulls him toward the bedroom. I catch Vance rolling his eyes, but he follows Clark without complaint.
Once they’re out of sight, I feel like I can finally breathe again, the air lighter, less tense and frigid. Clark wasn’t lying, this guy is intense. Not just intense, but rude, crass, he makes the guys from the grocery store look like child’s play.
My pulse thuds loudly in my ears signifying my panic, but I also realize that I’m a whole lot calmer than I would normally be in this type of situation. Clark said that Vance is a good guy and I trust in that. Clark wouldn’t have invited him if he didn’t think I was safe.
“Don’t mind Vance, he’ll grow on you,” Ava says, her soft voice dragging me from my thoughts.
“It’s okay, I get it. You guys don’t know me, and Clark is your friend. This whole thing is… a little odd. Clark and I barely know each other and now we’re moving in together,” I tell her, noticing how strangely comfortable I am talking to her. Usually I’m not scared of talking to girls, but I’m nowhere near comfortable either, at least not normally. Ava, however, has this aura about her, this kindness that seems to seep out of her. It almost makes you want to befriend her.
“Yeah, I thought Clark might be lying about you guys being together, but I’ve never seen him act the way he did just a moment ago.” She gestures to my hand where I swear I can still feel the warmth of Clark’s touch. “Holding your hand like that. It’s almost like he knew you needed him or something.”
“Yeah, Clark’s a pretty good guy,” I say, not wanting to give anything away. The last thing I want to do is have to explain myself to two more people that have no idea why I am the way I am. I came to North Woods hoping to escape my past. Hoping to make friends instead of enemies. At home, the kids in school laughed at me, called me weird, and made fun of me. I wanted to get away from all of that and for the first time, I think I might be able to.
“He is, Vance isn’t bad either. He’s just being protective of Clark.”
“Well, I don’t need protecting,” Clark chimes in, his tone defiant as he and Vance re-enter the room. “Let’s move this ugly ass couch and bring the new one in.”
Clark and Vance start moving stuff out of the way while Ava and I try to help without getting in the way.
“I can see why you want to get rid of this monstrosity. It looks like the 1970s threw up on this thing,” Vance grunts as he leans down to help Clark lift the couch.
“I’m not sure how the rest of the house looks so nice, but this couch is so fucking ugly. Maybe someone lost a bet, or they were high when they ordered it,” Clark says while carrying the couch out. Between the two of them, they easily carry it toward the door.
With a little finagling, they get the putrid green couch out the door, only dinging the doorframe once, while leaving behind some minor scratches. Ava and I hang out on the sidelines while they curse at each other as they bring the heavier, bulkier sectional in.
“Jesus fuck, lift, asshole,” Vance curses and I try not to stare at Clark as he lifts up the heavy piece of furniture, his biceps bulge at the weight, his perfectly sculpted chest puffing out as he grunts. Don’t stare, don’t stare. But my eyes don’t get the memo. It feels like I’m in a trance, unable to look away.
My eyes track a bead of sweat that streaks against his forehead, and down his body to a small patch of shirt that’s soaked with sweat right between his shoulder blades.
Warmth flutters through my gut as this completely ridiculous impulse to walk over and lick the sweat off his skin, just to see what it tastes like enters my mind.
Licking my lips, I realize how dry my mouth is. As if fate is mocking me, Clark looks over at me right then, catching my gaze on him.
Shit. I’ve been caught. He grins knowingly and I look away, feeling my cheeks heat with embarrassment. I bet my cheeks match my hair color right now.
“It’s okay to look,” Ava leans over and whispers, startling me. Clenching my fist, I dig my nails into the palms of my hand. I totally forgot she was standing so close to me. “They are putting on quite the sh
ow, if I might say so.” Her eyes never waver from Vance’s body and I can see how much she cares for him, how much she wants him.
“Don’t worry babe, I’ll let you touch it later,” Vance calls over his shoulder, causing Ava to snort with laughter.
Once they finish moving the sectional in and putting it in the exact position they want, they both head for the kitchen where Ava and I are standing. Clark saunters up to me, his hand extended outwards. I take it eagerly, interlacing my fingers with his. He squeezes my hand gently and gives me a reassuring smile that makes the warmth spread through my abdomen.
As if Vance has been here a million times before, he struts to the fridge, pulling it open, and gets out four bottles of beer.
“Someone said we could have some drinks, so let's have a drink,” he says, handing each of us a bottle. Vance glances at me with apprehension and I wonder what Clark said to him. I take the bottle not wanting to seem rude, but really, I don’t have any intention of drinking it. I never drink.
Without letting go of me, we all walk to the living room and sit down on the new sectional. Ava sits down so close to Vance, she might as well sit on his lap, while Clark and I leave a few inches between us, resting our joined hands in that space.
“So how come you have separate bedrooms?” Vance asks. “Seems odd to not sleep in the same room as boyfriend and girlfriend.”
“That’s none of your business,” Ava snaps, elbowing Vance in the ribs. “So what classes are you going to take, Emerson? Do you know what you are majoring in yet?”
Endlessly thankful for Ava and her change of subject, I tell her what classes I signed up for this semester and that I haven't decided on a major yet but that I love biology. Ava tells me about campus and her favorite teacher and invites me to meet her for coffee sometime this week.
While Ava and I successfully manage to carry on friendly small talk, Clark and Vance have some kind of staring competition that leaves the room with a tightness that I can feel in my chest. It isn’t until they’ve both finished their beers that they seem to relax a bit, joining in on the conversation and even laughing at some of Ava’s jokes.