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It's weird, but my shoulders feel a little lighter with that one action. For good, I push Kelly out of my head once more today as I make my way to my room.
EMERSON DOESN'T HAVE a TV in his room, and silence has never been so loud. With him lying here next to me, the room dark and quiet, I feel like fidgeting. Hell if I know why. I feel like if I fidget, I'll be bugging him and keeping him from falling asleep. The only reason why I want to fidget is because I feel awkward for some reason. It's probably because he's so great. I mean, after he came back into the bedroom, he told me there was a toothbrush in the bathroom for me.
He bought a toothbrush for me to use when I spend the night.
I realize I could focus on how he may think I'll be spending the night a lot, but considering the fact I've fallen asleep on him more than once, I decide not to. Instead, I think about how sweet it is that he went out of his way to have it here for me, just in case I did spend the night again.
And now, I keep thinking about how great he seems and how many times I've embarrassed myself in front of him.
“My hands are sore,” I blurt out. Damn it, I need to stop doing that.
Emerson chuckles. He reaches over and takes one of my hands. As he begins to massage it, he says, “Can't sleep now that you've laid down?” He has magical hands. If he can make my hand feel this good, I can only imagine what the rest of my body would feel like if he worked those hands over me.
“Yeah, I guess so.” Better than admitting it's because he's lying next to me.
His thumbs knead my hand for a bit until he asks for the other one.
“You know, I think I'm going to be the one having to convince you to keep me around,” he says once he's done.
“Are you kidding me? You just massaged my hands for me. You're a keeper.” He laughs, but then I realize what he said, and add, “Why do you think that?” I turn my head, barely able to make out the grin on his face.
“You're older, wiser, quicker on your feet, and prettier. You're taking all the good adjectives from me.”
I try not to giggle. “Would you like the prettier one then?”
He chuckles. “Yes, thank you. Come over here.”
Crap. I'll never sleep now. Regardless, I slide over. He lifts his arm for me to fit right next to him and he lays it over my shoulders as I rest my head on his chest. His torso rises and falls with his breathing, and I finally have found some noise to distract me: his heartbeat. It's not much compared to what a TV could do, but it's something. I can tune everything out except for the rhythmic thumping and his even breathing.
Emerson kisses the top of my head and says, “All right, now go to sleep. It's been a long day, and if I'm the pretty one now, you need some beauty sleep.”
I laugh, finally closing my eyes and relaxing for the first time since we lay down.
I'm standing about five feet to the left of the blonde girl I saw in the photos at Emerson's house. Kelly and I are standing across from Emerson and a guy I don't recognize.
“You have to choose,” he tells Emerson, walking back and forth in front of him. “You can't have them both. Pick. Is it Kelly or Eva?” He stands next to him to face us.
Emerson's eyes dart back and forth between us. The uncertainty on his face is painful. He'll pick her. Of course he will. I'm not sure why, but my heart knows I won't be picked. I open my mouth to say something, but no words come out.
Kelly, on the other hand, starts talking to Emerson. Resentment burns in my blood as he takes a step toward her. I can't understand what she's saying because it's like a whisper to me, but I know Emerson can hear her because he nods in agreement. This isn't fair! She has the advan
tage! Hell, I'm even standing two steps farther behind her. He can reach her in less time than he can me.
Emerson turns to look at me with questioning eyes. My mouth opens, but the words won't come. I shrug. I give up. I can't make him do anything anyway. He needs to choose who he wants, not who I wish he would want. Which would be me, obviously.
He turns to face the other guy. “I know who—”
A chill dances up my spine, waking me up. I slowly blink and look down at myself. My brows bunch together. I'm lying against Emerson's back as he lies on his side with all the blankets. I scoot backward, clutch a handful, and tug hard.
Nothing.
I groan in frustration and shove Emerson a little to wake him up.
Unfortunately, he's lying on the edge of the bed and my little shove pushes him off, his grunt as he hits the floor wakes me up a little more.
“What the hell?” he mumbles, sitting up.
“Sorry. I didn't mean to, but you had all the covers.”
