Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 98736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
I’m not ready for this to blow up yet.
Grabbing my phone, I quickly type out a text before I can change my mind.
* * *
Me: Are you up?
Emerson: Yes.
Me: Can you get out of the house?
Emerson: Where am I going to go?
* * *
My sassy girl. She wants me to say it, and I deserve that. After all the back and forth, I put us through. I should kick my own ass for holding off as long as I did. Now, I can count on my fingers how many days I have with her before she goes back to school. I could have had her all summer. I was certain that I could hold strong. I almost did, but she broke through the barrier of my stubbornness, and honestly, it’s a relief to no longer fight what I’m feeling for her.
* * *
Me: I can come and get you.
Emerson: Like that won’t be obvious.
Emerson: Let me call Monroe. She can come and pick me up, and make it seem last minute, and she can drop me off to you.
* * *
Me: Does she know?
Emerson: Yes, and I trust her.
Me: I trust you.
* * *
It’s a gamble for anyone outside of the two of us knowing before we’re ready for this to be more than what it is. But I do trust her.
* * *
Emerson: Give me five.
Me: Okay.
* * *
I toss my phone on the couch and continue to pace my living room floor. I keep glancing at my phone, so I pause to grab it and make sure the ringer is on. It’s completely ridiculous, and there isn’t another woman on this fucking planet who can have me checking my phone like a teenager other than Emerson.
I’m expecting a text so when my phone rings, I rush to answer it. “Everything okay?”
“It’s more than okay. Monroe’s driving home from her cousin’s bridal shower that was in Nashville. She’s going to swing by and pick me up. I told Forrest that we need to catch up. I have not spent any time with her this week.”
“Oh, uh.” I scratch the back of my head. “Would you rather do that?”
Fuck, please let her say no.
“I want to see you.”
I exhale a sigh of relief. “Okay.” How can I sound so fucking pussy-whipped already?
“I live with Monroe at college. I’ll get to see lots of her. You, I’m going to miss.” Her confession is softly spoken, and my heart squeezes in my chest.
“So, you’re coming here?”
“I am.”
“Are you staying?”
“Do you want me to?”
“Yes.” I don’t hesitate with my answer. “I want you here. We don’t have much time left.”
“All right. I have to work in the morning.”
“I do too.”
“I’m going to have Monroe pick me up and drop me back off at the house. That way, we don’t have to worry about hiding my car.”
“I hate sneaking around.”
“Do you not want me to come over?”
“I want you here. I meant that, but I hate hiding you like a dirty little secret.”
“Let’s just give this some time, Rome. I promise everything will all work out in the end.”
“Shouldn’t I be the one reassuring you?”
“Meh, we both have a lot to lose potentially. I think we’re both going to be doing some reassuring.”
She’s right, there are relationships on the line that can’t be replaced. “You still think it’s worth the risk?”
“I think you are worth it. Monroe just pulled in. I’ll see you soon.” She ends the call before I have a chance to tell her to be safe, so I type out a text because not telling her seems wrong. What has this woman done to me?
* * *
Me: Be safe, baby girl.
Emerson: Always.
* * *
I glance around my small house. This won’t be the first time she’s been here, but this will be the first time that she’s here as mine. That’s a big fucking deal. I don’t have women here.
Not ever.
Emerson is different. We’re barely started, and I know she’s more.
I’m sitting on the front porch with my phone clasped tightly in my hand when Monroe’s car pulls into the driveway. I told myself I would stay sitting, but I can’t. I step off the porch, make my way to the passenger side door, and tug it open before Emerson gets the chance. She steps out of the car, and I pull her into my arms, pressing a kiss to her forehead. For the first time since I watched her drive away from the shop earlier, I feel my shoulders relax.
Bending, I peer into the car. “Thank you.”
Monroe nods. “Take care of our girl.”
Monroe is one of those people who loves life. She’s carefree and easygoing and never takes herself too seriously. For her to be stone-faced as she issues that demand speaks volumes of how close they are.
“No other option,” I tell her. Because there isn’t.