Page 91 of Riding the Curve

CHAPTER 33

Henley

The room is illuminated with a pinkish hue by the time I finally peel my eyes back open. With my face still smushed against the pillow, I blindly search for my phone. My fingers slide around the smooth surface, and I bring it up to my face.

6 pm.

I sit up in a flash. How in the world did I sleep for eight hours? As if on cue, my muscles groan and the space between my thighs aches. Ah, yes. That will do it.

The phone vibrates in my hand, alerting me to a new message. My heart flutters when Emerson’s name flashes across the screen. I swipe and hold it against my ear.

“Hey.” His deep voice reverberates through me. Immediately, I’m transported back to earlier.

“Hey.”

“Did you get some rest?”

“Yeah, I think a little too much.” I sigh regretfully.

“Well, you needed it. The process of rearranging your insides takes a toll.”

Emerson chuckles darkly into the phone, and my toes curl beneath the sheets.

“Can you be ready in about thirty minutes?” he asks.

“Depends, where are we going?”

Another laugh rumbles through.

“Nowhere fancy. Just dress comfortably for tonight.” Before I can answer back, he adds one more thing. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll take you out to a fancy dinner soon. You can get all dressed up in an elegant dress. I’ll look forward to tearing it off you afterward.”

My cheeks flame.

“So, 6:30?” he asks, snapping me out of my trance.

“See you soon.”

As soon as I hang up, I scramble to get ready. After trying on a zillion shirts and dresses, I take a deep breath and remind myself who I’m about to have dinner with. This is Emerson, not Carson. He’s not going to complain if I’m not wearing the right shade of lipstick, or make me turn around and change if my dress doesn’t meet his standards. If I show up wearing only a paper bag, I’m pretty sure Emerson would still be ecstatic.

Slipping on my favorite pair of shorts, a white tank top, and my Converse, I head into the bathroom. I add just a few more curls to my waves and apply some mascara to my lashes when I hear a knock at my door.

With each step, my heart flutters inside my chest. I open the door and am blessed with a beautiful sight before me.

Emerson leans against the frame, the black shirt he wears tightening around his biceps and across his abs. My gaze wanders lower to his dark Wranglers, and the way they mold to his thighs like a second skin. When my gaze finds his, a knowing grin spreads across his face.

“Don’t act like you didn’t just do the same thing,” I jest, folding my arms across my chest and raising a brow. His hand extends out and wraps around my hip, pulling me against his chest and planting his lips against mine.

I’m breathless by the time he releases me. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Grabbing my hand, he leads me forward and closes the door behind me. “Let’s get going. I’m starving, and if we stay here any longer, I may decide to skip dinner and jump straight into dessert.”

The grin that spreads across my face is wide enough to make my cheeks hurt.

We head in the direction of the horse barn and excitement spreads through my veins. It’s been so long since I’ve been on the back of a horse. Growing up, it was one of my favorite things to do. Being back home, around them every day, has reminded me just how much I’ve missed it.

The freedom.

The wind in my hair.