by Farlow, LK
My cheeks heat as I avert my gaze. The way this man makes me feel has me questioning my own sanity. How is it possible to go from fearing him and dreading his presence to feeling carefree and at ease in his company?
“You ready?” he asks as our waitress drops off our bill.
“Yeah.”
“Got any plans?” He leaves a wad of cash on the table to cover our meal.
“Studying. Lots of it.”
He grimaces. “Sorry. I’ll pull Summer aside and let her know she needs to pull her weight.”
I shrug as I stand. “It’s whatever. Honestly, I work better alone.”
“Well, let me get you home so you can hit the books then.”
“Thanks. For today. And last night. And yeah, just thanks.”
“I know it sounds like a line, but anything for you. I meant it when I said I was going to make up for all the shit I put you through. Feeding you is the least I can do.”
Our hands knock together as we walk back to his car. Each brush of his fingers sends a rush through me, until finally he interlocks our fingers together, holding my hand in his for the rest of our walk.
The drive back to campus passes in a blur, and before I know it, Sterling’s pulling to a stop in front of my dorm.
“Text me later?”
The thought of reaching out first sends a spike of anxiety through me. But friendship is a two-way street, and I guess it’s only fair for me to put in some effort as well. “If you want me to, sure.”
“I absolutely want you to.” He leans over the console and presses his lips to mine in a chaste kiss. “Wouldn’t have said it otherwise.”
I offer him a small smile. “Okay then.”
“Bye, baby.”
“Bye,” I murmur, slipping out of his car with my head spinning. At this point, I don’t even know up from down, much less how to process the way Sterling makes me feel.
I’m so busy trying to dissect all of the revelations and bombs from the last twenty-four hours that I don’t notice Melanie lurking.
“You’re only a distraction, you know that, right?” she sneers, glaring at me as I pass. “There’s nothing special about you. He’ll grow bored.”
“Whatever you say, Melanie.”
“Listen, you bitch!”
I whirl around. “No, you listen. There’s no need for this bullshit animosity between us. I know you think I’m stepping on your toes, but I’m not. I’ve known Sterling since I was eight. That’s right, a whole decade. Please stop harassing me because you have a crush. It’s not cool and, frankly, makes you look desperate. I don’t want problems between us. So, let it go, okay? Just let it go.”
Holy shit! I don’t know where all of that came from, but I turn and rush into the building before she can reply. I either just cleared the air between us or royally messed things up; my bet is on the latter.
“Oh my God!” Stella shouts the second I step into our suite. “We have so much to discuss!”
“That, we do.” A spike of nerves zips through me.
“Starting with why your cheeks are so flushed.” She looks me over. “And why you’re wearing a man’s shirt.”
“Um.” I collapse down onto the couch. “Well.”
“Don’t you um, well me, babe. I need deets. I spent half the night worried sick about you, you know?”
“Only half?” I ask, trying for humor.
“We’ll get to that.”
“Okay, fine. I might have just told Melanie off on my way up.”
“What?” Stella squeals, flinging herself down onto the cushion next to me. She winces as she makes contact.
“Are you okay?”
Her cheeks burn crimson. “Mmhmm. Totally fine.”
“You sure?”
She lets out a dreamy sigh. “Totally fine. Just a little sore.”
“Why?”
“After we finish talking about you. About Sterling.”
“We talked. About everything. Stell, I think… I think he believes me now. Like for real. At first, I wasn’t sure if he was faking nice or what, but after last night and this morning, I think he means it.” I drag my teeth over my lower lip, almost scared to speak my next words. “And I think he’s into me, or whatever.”
My best friend smiles. “Of course he is! You’re a total catch. Now, why are you wearing his shirt?”
At her second mention of my outfit, I realize I left my clothes at his place—including my dirty panties. Oh, God. Kill me now.
“Nothing like you’re thinking. He just let me borrow a shirt since mine smelled like a day-old frat party.” I draw my legs up beneath me on the cushion and rest my head against the back. “Now, your turn.”
“Well.” She draws out the word. “I ditched my V-card last night!”
“What?” My eyes widen in shock. “With who?”
She looks down at her lap. “You remember my friend Samson?”
“You mean Mr. Mysterious who you’d never spill the details on? That Samson?”
“The one and only.”
“Are y’all like an item now?”
The light in her eyes dims a little. “No.”
“Oh. Um.”
She laughs, but it sounds forced. “It’s fine, Emmy. I got what I wanted, and he made sure it was good. What more can a girl ask for, right?”
I reach over and take her hand in mine. “A lot of things, Stell, a lot of things. But if you’re happy, then I’m happy for you.”
Her lips pull up into a watery smile. “I’m over the moon.”
Chapter Thirty
Sterling
Emmalyn: Hey!
Me: You know, when I said to text me later, I didn't mean *this* much later.
A yawn escapes me as I stare at my phone waiting for her to reply. My little mouse truly made me sweat it out.
I was half tempted to text her, but something told me she needed time to process all of the changes that took place over the course of the weekend. And while I wanted to talk to her, I didn’t want to scare her off either.
My, how things have changed.
As sappy as it sounds, I wasn’t prepared to wait damn near thirty hours for her text. But I did and it must have been the right thing to do, because she came to me, willingly.
Emmalyn: Sorry! Yesterday was spent studying… my psych project isn’t going to do itself. And my partner kind of sucks. ;)
Me: Shit. I truly am sorry. Give me a chance to fix it.
Emmalyn: I know girls like her. I was friends with girls like her. You interfering will only make it worse. Thank you though.
Me: Are you sure, baby? I really want to fix this for you.
No sooner than I hit send does my phone start vibrating with an incoming call.
I answer immediately, embarrassingly eager to hear her honeyed voice. "Decided you needed to hear my voice, little mouse?”
"You’ve been avoiding me," growls a cold, masculine voice that most definitely doesn’t belong to Emmy. "And I don’t fucking appreciate it.”
"Rob." His name leaves behind a bitter tang in my mouth. "How are you?"
"How do you think I am, Sterling?" His voice is taut with barely concealed rage. "How do you think I am when you've been avoiding me?"
An uneasy laugh lodges in my throat. "Not avoiding you, man. Just busy."
"Busy with what?"
"You know how it is, man."
"No. I don't. Enlighten me. Tell me exactly what's kept you too busy to so much as read my texts."
My mind races as I scramble to think of a plausible excuse. Rob’s irrational on a good day, and judging from the hard edge to his voice, it’s not a good day.
“Just trying to balance it all.”
“Hmm,” is all he says.
“So, what’s new with you?” I ask, hoping he’ll let it go.
I should’ve known better though. “What’s new with me is your troublesome lack of communication, Sterling.”
“Rob, man—”
“Maybe I should c
ome visit. Remind you where your loyalty lies.”
“No need. My loyalty is yours. Just been busy.”
“Free up some time, or I’ll free it for you.”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Don’t fucking placate me. That little bitch needs to be leashed. And you can either help me or I’ll collar you, too.”
My insides go molten as he continues to speak. His threats toward me mean nothing, but the way he’s speaking about her has me vibrating with fury.
I tune out for the rest of his rant, not even realizing he’s finished until the call disconnects.
He definitely knows something’s up. I just have to hope I can put him off my trail long enough to devise a plan; a way to keep Emmy safe and by my side.
A bone-weary sigh works its way through me as I toggle back to my text thread.
Emmalyn: I’m sure, Sterling. Thank you though.
Me: Don’t thank me. This whole thing is my fault.
Emmalyn: True. I take back my thanks.
Me: What are you up to right now? Do you want to come over?
After talking to Rob, I have this inexplicable urge to see Emmy, to see with my own eyes that she’s safe and sound.
Emmalyn: Um. It’s like 10! I’m about to go to bed. I have class in the morning and my TA is a real hard ass.
Me: Sleep here?
Emmalyn: Or… I could sleep here. I’m already in my jammies and in bed. I’ll see you bright and early though. Okay?
I want to beg her to let me come and get her. No, I want to demand it. But I know I can’t.
Me: I guess.
Emmalyn: Goodnight, Sterling.
Me: Goodnight, baby.
I set my alarm and put my phone on the charger, double-checking that my ringer is on in case Emmalyn calls, before climbing under the covers and forcing myself to sleep.
* * *
"Summer," I call out as she struts past the podium.
She bats her lashes and flashes a coquettish smile my way. "Yes, Sterling?"
"I was hoping to talk to you about your project." I know Emmalyn asked me not to mention it to her, but the guilt is eating at me; I have this driving need to make it right.
A conspiratorial grin lights up her face. "What about it?"
"I'm gonna need you to start pulling your weight."
Her lips flatten, thinning into a hard line. "But you said—"
"I know what I said. And now I'm saying this: pull your weight or fail."
Her eyes narrow as she screws her lips up into a mean snarl. "You don't have the authority to fail me."
"Don't I?" I ask, right as Emmalyn walks in. Her eyes widen at the sight of Summer and me together, but I press on. "In case you missed the memo, Professor Ellison—Uncle Vic to me—doesn't really care what I do."
If looks could kill, I'd be dead twice over thanks to the two infuriated women shooting laser beams at me with their angry eyes. But there's only one I'm concerned with, only one whose reaction I care about.
I slide my phone from my pants pocket as Summer mutters something under her breath and stomps off to her seat. Quickly, I fire off a text to Emmalyn, hoping like hell she reads it and agrees.
Me: I'm sorry for going against what you said. If you let me take you to lunch, I'll explain then.
Students trickle in while I impatiently wait for Emmalyn to check her phone. I manage to catch her eye and try to telepathically signal to her.
Her nose wrinkles as she looks at me like I've lost my mind. And maybe I have, but either way, she grabs her phone, so I'm counting it as a win.
Emmalyn: I guess. But you better have a good reason for going behind my back.
Not even two seconds later and another text comes through.
Emmalyn: And dessert, too.
Me: Consider it done.
I go to repocket my phone when another text pings. This time from Rob.
Seeing his name flash on my screen fills me with dread. He's unhinged, and if I don't find a way to nip this whole situation in the bud soon, he's guaranteed to become a problem.
Rob: Tick tock, Sterling. Time's running out.
All throughout class, Rob's threats distract me, weighting me down like cinderblocks roped to my ankles. Finally, I can't take it anymore and dismiss everyone twenty minutes early.
Emmalyn remains seated, taking her time putting her things away, until we're the only people left.
"You ready?" I ask as she stands.
"As I'll ever be."
"Good. Let's go."
Today, I take her to my favorite burger place, Slicks.
"What's good?" she asks, as we wait in line to order at the counter.
"Everything. But the truffle fries are where it's at."
We both order a colossal cheeseburger with an order of fries, plus a decadent slice of cheesecake with raspberry sauce for Emmy.
I guide her to a little corner booth, and as soon as her ass hits the seat, she's on me. "Well, let's hear it then."
"Look, I know you asked me not to say anything to her. And I know I disrespected you by doing it anyway."
"You're not so good at apologizing, huh?"
A smirk threatens to break free at her sassiness, but I roll my lips inward, suppressing the urge. "That's because I'm not apologizing, little mouse."
Frustration colors her cheeks pink. "Then why are we here?"
"I said I'd explain, not apologize. They’re not synonyms."
A server runs our burgers out, placing them before us with flourish. I want so badly to dig in, but I know Emmalyn's not going to touch her food without my explanation.
"Look, going behind your back was a shit thing to do, sure. But the thought of her forcing you to do all of the work was driving me insane. I know how much work that project requires, and it's more than you can do on your own. It's my fault you're in the predicament and I just...wanted to make it right."
She rolls her eyes, a sigh escaping her plump lips. "Your heart was in the right place, and what I'm about to say is going to sound pretty rude, but... You didn't talk to her for me, you did it for you. You felt guilty and wanted to ease your conscience. I get it, and I get why you did it. But please stop pretending it was to help me. It wasn't."
Fuck. Why is all this attitude she's throwing my way turning me on?
"Fair enough." I nod. "Can we move past this if I swear to never go behind your back again?" Even as I ask the question, I'm lying. I'm hiding Rob's ongoing threats, but this time, it really is for her.
She contemplates my offer for a minute before offering me a single, decisive nod.
"Good. Let's eat."
"Oh my God!” she exclaims around a mouthful of burger. "How is it this good?"
"Try the fries."
She wastes no time, grabbing one and popping it in her mouth, moaning her delight as she chews and swallows.
Much to my surprise, she puts away her entire meal, plus her dessert. Emmy can eat, and frankly, it's hot as hell. Most of the women in our social circles peck at their salads while longing for the feast their date's eating.
But not Emmy, and this only serves to make me want her a little more. She's different; she refuses to fit the rich girl stereotype, and I love it.
"Oh, another thing," she says, licking raspberry sauce from the tines of her fork.
"Hmm, huh?"
"Professor Ellison is your freaking uncle?"
"Oh, yeah. He's mom's twin."
"That's why you're able to basically run his class, huh?"
"He doesn't really care anymore, to be honest, thanks to his book deal."
"Good for him, I guess." She goes back to her cheesecake, gathering up the last of the graham cracker crust crumbs onto her fork.
She pops them into her mouth, and like Cupid struck me with an arrow, I suddenly can’t wait a second longer. "Let me take you out."
Emmalyn quirks her head to the side. "Are we not out?"
I grin as I rise from my seat, offering a hand to her. "No, like for rea
l. On a date."
"Oh. Um." Her eyes are as wide as our cleared lunch plates and her cheeks are as red as the raspberry sauce from her dessert. She's flustered, and it's fucking cute.
If I was a smarter man, I'd be more discreet with my interest and affections, but I want her to know I'm into her, and I refuse to let Rob Pearson control me. He's wreaked enough havoc in Emmalyn's life as it is.
He put her destruction in my hands, but instead of hurting her, I'm going to heal her. I'm going to give her back all he took tenfold.
I just have to get Emmalyn on the same page.
"Come on, little mouse. Take a chance on me...on us."
She finally takes my hand, and I haul her to standing from her seat. She allows me to guide her toward the exit and I take full advantage, wrapping an arm around her waist and tucking her into my side as we retrace our steps to where I parked.
"You're not...you really mean it? Like you're serious?" Emmalyn stops at the passenger door and tilts her head my way, staring up at me from beneath her long lashes.
"As can be." I back her into the side of my car, caging her in with my arms. "Say yes. I swear you won't regret it."
Her eyes flit from mine, to the ground, and back again. "I think I probably will, but okay. Yes."
I'm half-tempted to fist pump in my victory, but I rein it in. "Are you free Friday?"
Emmalyn nods.
"Good. I'll pick you up at four." I step back and open her door.
She slides into her seat, a funny look on her pretty face. "Four seems pretty early."
"I have my reasons."
"We'll see."
I grin at her cheekiness as I round the front of my car. Once I'm behind the wheel, I start the engine and throw it into gear. "Guarantee it'll be the best date you've ever been on."
She snorts out a laugh. "It'll be the only."
"What?" Surely, I misheard her. I know she dated in high school. She had a doofy little douche of a boyfriend. Rob complained about him incessantly. Hello, red flag. Talking about hindsight being twenty-twenty. "You had a boyfriend though...what was his name?"
"I mean, Aaron and I went out, but it was always group stuff, you know?"
"So, I'll be your first date?"
She shifts in her seat. "Yeah, I guess you will be."