Page 106 of Emery


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We all stare at Emery and his voice trails off and he shifts on his feet. “Or maybe. I dunno. Don’t listen to me. I’m just making shit up as I go. I am a terrible judge of character.”

“Okay, well, that’s enough insanity for today. We should go,” Magnus says pressing his mouth to Sem’s. “I’ve got homework to do, and I need time to process what I just saw.”

When Emery and I climb back into my SUV, he turns toward me and links his hand with mine. His big brown eyes meet mine and he shifts in his seat.

“Do you think they liked me?”

“Yeah, Em. I think they loved you.”

CHAPTERTHIRTEEN

EMERY

Ihave all sorts of plans for August when I get home from my therapy appointment. Recently, in my hour-long sessions, all I ever do is talk about him with Dr. K. About how I’ve made myself vulnerable and open to someone else. How it feels to just let myselfbewith someone else. And about how some risks are worth the reward.

He’s myboyfriend.

I still can’t believe it––can’t believe that he wants me. And fuck, does he ever.

And it’s not even all about the sex either. He just seems to likeme.He’s never once raised his voice, or made me feel bad about my ADHD brain and how forgetful I am. And damn, he just smiles at me all the time. I imagine that he loves me. It could be a delusion on my end.

But really, I catch him looking at me like he adores me. He wasn’t kidding when he said he accepted me just as I am.

It makes me want to be better. For him.

Boyfriend:When will you be home?

Oh, he so can’t wait for it. He is so quiet, but damn, he begs for it in his own way. Sometimes he looks at me, and I know he wants me inside of him. He may not be as vocal as I am, but he lets me know when he’s ready. It’s in the way his eyes sweep over me, the way he nibbles on that bottom lip of his, or how he touches me.

I’ve gotten good at reading him. So far, we’ve flown through my Kama Sutra bucket list in a little over a week.

When I’d met August, I wanted to see him wrecked and I’ve managed that on several occasions. Twice in the shower and once with him bent over the couch. Oh god, him over the couch was probably my favorite. That was right after laser tag last week. He was grunting and moaning, and I’d made a mess of him. Stained the couch a bit too…gotta get that cleaned before someone asks what that stain is.

My phone pings and I shift in the back of the Uber excitedly.

Me:I just saw a notification for a package that was delivered. Can you grab it?

Boyfriend:Yeah. Got it.

Me:Oh good. Open it and put that shit on.

Me:Wait for me on the kitchen table. Naked.

Me:Except for the cardigan. Wear only that.

Me:Oh and get your ass ready. I’ve missed you. I want to just walk in the door, unzip my pants, and be inside you.

Boyfriend:We’re out of lube.

“Double damn,” I say and then lean forward. “Hey, can you swing by the pharmacy really quick right up here? I gotta grab something. It will take me like two minutes.”

The lady driving me nods and we pull into the parking lot. I hop out and zig-zag through ten aisles before I find the right one. Why do they need to stock sanitary napkins in 12 different sizes, aren’t all vaginas roughly the same size? I’ll ask Emery’s mom sometime, she’ll know. Why are these stores so big? Do they not understand that I’m in a rush? Ain’t nobody got time for this shit.

When I finally find the aisle that houses all the fun stuff, I grab three bottles just to be safe. Actually, make that five. I grab six.

We fuck so often; we will go through this in no time.

I make it to the counter with a pile of bottles in my arms and the woman behind it eyes me curiously.

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