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CHAPTERTWO
EMILY
Once Troy has dressed, he leans down to kiss me. I want to pull him to me and tell him to do it all over again. Even though I’m sore, I don’t care. I feel better when I’m closer to him. I’m sure I’ll never find anyone like him again. I don’t want to, if I’m honest. My intention is to go to uni, get my art and business degree, then come back and tell my dad I’m in love with Troy. We’ve planned to keep in touch with messages and phone calls. But until then, I have the real thing. I’m going to cherish every moment we have together. I eventually make it to the bathroom to take a long, relaxing shower before I climb carefully into my bed.
When I wake the next morning after dreams of the dark headed man that had rocked my world last night, I smile and quickly dress in loose clothing. I’m even more sore this morning, every time I move, I feel him between my legs. It’s a memory I never want to forget. Going to my wardrobe, the first thing I set my gaze on is jeans, I know they won’t help, so instead I grab some leggings and pair them with a baggy t-shirt. I have a busy day today. I need to start packing my things up before leaving for uni, but as I look around my bedroom, I realise I have so much to do First things first, I need food, and on cue, my stomach growls, so I skip down to the kitchen to get some breakfast. The only person around is our housekeeper. When I don’t see Troy, I try hard to hide my disappointment with a smile on my face. “Morning, Rose.”
“Morning, Emily,” Rose greets cheerily, “what would you like for breakfast?” She asks wiping her hands on the tea towel.
“It’s okay, I can do it.” I smile as she turns around to me.
“Then what kind of housekeeper would I be if I let you do that?” Her eyes roll as she cups my shoulders from behind.
My smile widens. It’s always genuine for Rose, I nod at her, ‘Go on then, can I have scrambled eggs please?”
“Of course you can, sweetheart. There’s tea in the pot,” she declares as she cracks eggs into a bowl. Rose always makes a pot of tea, I’m not sure why, there’s only her that really drinks it. My dad has one cup when he first gets up in the morning but after that I’m not sure what he drinks. I don’t take any notice anymore. I'm a coffee addict and so is Troy. That pot of tea must go to waste.
“I’m fine, thank you.” Grabbing a glass from the cupboard above my head I move to the fridge, take the orange juice out and fill my glass. Just as I’m putting it back, Troy’s deep voice stops me, “Ooh, can I get some of that, too.” I peer around the door pulling the carton back out that’s still gripped between my fingers, back out and push the fridge door shut before pouring some into a clean glass for him. “Thanks.” He follows up, minding his manners. As he smiles, I allow my greedy eyes to admire him for a moment or three. He’s dressed in his signature suit; he makes them look so good and the young woman in me is very appreciative of it.
“Morning.” A soft sigh follows my greeting.
“Morning, Em,” I feel the blush rising into my face. He moves his focus to Rose, lifting his glass to his lips.“Rose, can I get some coffee, please?” Troy asks politely, not looking at me for more than a second. I’m sure it’s just because Rose is in the room though, so I shake it off.
“Just give me one more minute to finish this one’s breakfast and I’ll be with ya.” She answers in her Essex accent. I smile briefly, watching her take the pan from the stove, stirring my eggs at the same time, then turns back to Troy.
“Yeah, that’s fine. No rush.” His lips tip into a charming smile for her, he presses his back to the counter, his arms crossing his body, looking relaxed.
“Can I get you anything to eat?” Rose asks him, quickly glancing back over her shoulder as she’s dishing up my breakfast.
“No, I'm all good. Coffee is all I need.” His lips cover the side of the glass, gripping it in his fingers as he sips on his orange juice. My stomach is in knots, I just want him to speak to me, but he doesn’t even attempt to. Well, apart from saying morning, that is. I want those lips on mine and his fingers touching me, but they aren’t.God, I have it bad.
Rose places my breakfast down in front of me. MY tummy rumbles again from the smell of toast and eggs wafting up my nose. I shake some black pepper over my eggs and tuck in. I try to forget Troy is even there, and stare down at my phone pausing with my fork in mid-air to scroll through social media every so often. My thoughts instantly go back to last night. A warmth spreading into my cheeks when I think about how he made me feel and how good it was. I keep my face down, if Rose saw me, she’d want to know why I’m blushing and would then be asking questions, and I’m not about to answer them.
The clinking of the spoon hitting the side of the cup as she stirs Troy's coffee brings my mind out of the gutter, and I concentrate on quickly finishing my breakfast.
“There you go,” Rose says and Troy thanks her. “Let me know if you’re hungry.” I don't hear him reply. Lifting my head, I catch the back of him just as he makes his way out of the door.
“He’s such a nice lad that one.” Rose compliments.
“Hmm,” I mumble as I chew on my toast. I think he’s amazing, especially after last night. As I swallow my last forkful, I wash it down with my juice and stand, picking up my plate and placing it in the sink. We do have a dishwasher but Rose hates using it, not unless we really need to. She’s big on saving energy, even though my dad could buy out an energy company and still have money to spare, she still insists on washing them by hand. Her comment about looking after the pennies always stays with me. I’m sure it’ll be a life lesson as I enter university and have to look after myself.
Rose is such a sweet woman, with dark hair greying at the front and sides. She’s only been with us for a couple of years, but I love her like you would a grandmother. She always makes time to listen to me when I have problems and when I’ve argued relentlessly with my dad. She’s a very private person, but I do know that she’s a divorcee and has one daughter. She moved up here when Dad hired her, but she always goes back to see her daughter every weekend, well as long as her daughter's schedule allows. I’m unsure what she does for work, but I know she’s married and has a son that’s probably about three or four now. Rose stays with them and comes back on a Sunday night. It’s a pity she never remarried.
“Thank you for breakfast.” The cutlery clangs as it hits the bottom of the washing up bowl.
“You’re always welcome, sweetheart. You don’t have to thank me,” she says turning to the sink and filling up the bowl.
Sidling up to her, I place a small peck on her warm cheek, “I do, because I was brought up with manners, if nothing else.” I whisper, smiling as I leave the kitchen, I go to seek out Troy. I need to see him.
Dipping in and out of rooms, I look for Troy but have no luck. It’s by coincidence that I pass Dad’s office. He’s already working and it’s only just a little before nine a.m. I stand outside for longer than I should do and listen with my ear to the door. I can hear Dad talking as usual, but I can’t hear Troy’s voice. The only place he can be is his office. I trudge down the hall, hoping he’s in there, knocking on the door lightly, I wait patiently but I can't hear anything coming from inside. Curling my fingers around the handle, I jiggle it to see if it’s locked, to my surprise it’s open. The door opens inwards, I step inside and look around me. It’s not like it’s the first time I’ve been in here, but it feels different now. I feel like something has changed with us. His coffee sits on the desk, steam billowing from it, so he’s been in here already. Running my fingers along the edge of his oak desk, I notice how neat and tidy it is, not like my dad’s. His desk is always a mess. Paper strewn here and there. Pens out of the pot, invoices scattered… he isn’t the tidiest.
As I get lost in thought, I sit myself in one of the chairs opposite his side of the desk, completely lost inside my head. “Can I help you, Em?” His voice comes from behind me and almost has me jumping out of my skin.
My hand flies to my chest, as the top half of my body spins as far as it can and I come face to face with him, my eyes widening as they regard him. “You scared me to death,” I gasp.
His eyebrow lifts, amusement lining his face as he chuckles, “I scared you? I thought this was my office.” His half smirk makes a heat bubble up inside me. I get up from the chair and move towards him, placing my hand softly on his chest as I get closer. I push up to my toes attempting to kiss him but subtly he backs away, gently removing my hand from him before sidestepping me and going around his desk to sit down. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I wanted to see you that’s all.” I sound meek.Jesus, get a grip, Emily.
