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“That is a lot to take in, baby girl.” My mom sips her tea, clearly in thought. “He really flew to his father and told him he couldn’t marry that girl because he was in love with you?”
When she says it like that, it sounds like a Hallmark-worthy romantic gesture. “I guess so.”
“Emmy, that boy clearly loves you. How long are you going to keep yourself closed off from him?”
What she doesn’t realize is that holding my heart from him has been harder than I imagined. Conrad makes it easy to fall for him with his charm, sweet words, and thoughtful gestures.
“I’m afraid to get hurt again,” I whisper.
“True love isn’t worth it unless there are some ups and downs and struggles throughout.”
Do I think what Conrad and I have is true love? I know my heart aches for him. When he is near, my body is in tune with his presence and yearns for him. While love is not something I have experienced before, I also have never felt as much love for another like I do for Conrad.
“What if he shatters my heart again after I give it to him?”
My mom looks at me with a small smile. “Sometimes that’s a risk you are going to have to take for the one you love.”
While I know what she is saying holds true, I wonder if I would be able to recover after another heartbreak from Conrad. There are so many what-ifs in our relationship. What if he doesn’t think I’m worth leaving behind the comfort and security of his family’s money and status for? What if his father or Liliana convinces him to change his mind and follow through with the marriage? What if he really isn’t in love with me and it’s lust that will eventually fade away?
These thoughts are plaguing the relationship I so desperately want. My heart wants Conrad, but my head is holding me back. I just need to figure out which organ to listen to.
I leave my mom’s house with more than the dress fabric I came here for. She has given me her insight and is clearly on Team Conrad, even though she assured me that she supports whatever decision I make.
With a ramble of thoughts rolling through my mind, I drive the over two hours back to Braxton. I have five days to create the outfit for the banquet on Saturday, on top of working and classes. Maybe with a busy week, I will be too distracted to think about all that is going on with my life. Or maybe, with the anticipation of Saturday, it will make me get lost in my thoughts even more.
31
CONRAD
“This goddamn monkey suit is bullshit,” Levi grumbles from the couch as he adjusts his tie once again. The guy lives in jeans and old shirts. Anytime we have to dress nice for soccer events, all he does is complain as if he doesn’t know this is part of the deal.
“Stop your bitching. You look very handsome.” Maddox pinches Levi’s hairy cheek and his hand gets slapped for doing so.
“Of course I look handsome, but that doesn’t mean I’m not tired of having to dress up for these stupid events.”
Camden comes downstairs, dressed in a pair of black slacks and a dark-green button-down shirt with a thin, black tie. “Just be grateful that it isn’t a formal event and we don’t have to wear tuxes. I’d be faking an illness if that were the case.”
“Ugh, don’t even say that. I feel like if Coach gets wind of that idea, he would do it just to fuck with us,” Levi grumbles.
“Are you ladies ready? The limo is waiting on us.” Maddox insisted on getting us a limo for the banquet tonight rather than taking a couple cars. Part of the reason is that this is the first event where we are all twenty-one, and rather than having designated drivers, we get to let loose in the back of a limo.
My roommates, Jules, and I pile into the limo and head toward the girls’ apartment. Emree insisted they needed to get ready at her place because sharing a shower with four guys is not okay, and the last time Blaire used Maddox’s private bathroom, she walked out to an eyeful of a naked Maddox’s ass sleeping on his bed. While he won the owner’s bedroom when we moved in, I’ll admit that it was the best decision because Mr. Free Spirit likes to be in the nude as much as possible. If we had to share a bathroom with him, there would be a naked Maddox in the hallway frequently.
Maddox pops a champagne bottle and begins filling glasses and passes them out to everyone. “To a kick-ass season,” he cheers. “And to another championship under our belt.”
Our team killed it last season, even after losing our upperclassman starters when they graduated. Camden turned out to be a great captain, always motivating the team and being there for anyone who needed some extra practice on the side. Our senior year is going to be even better. The team is more in sync than it has ever been.
The limo driver pulls up to the front of Emree and Blaire’s apartment, and Camden and I exit and head up to their floor on the elevator. After knocking, we wait for the door to open.
“Just a minute!” someone, I think Blaire, yells from the other side of the door. Camden smiles at me and rolls his eyes.
About three minutes later, the door opens, and it takes every bit of effort not to fall over at the woman before me. My eyes slowly drag down Emree’s length. Her long blonde hair is expertly curled and there are a couple new blonde highlights framing her face. Her makeup is more visible than I have ever seen before. Her eyelashes are long and thick, and the way they frame her blue eyes makes them look larger than usual. She has a slightly smoky eye—Emree taught me that term—that makes her look ever so sexy. The best part about her makeup is the cherry-red, plump lips that are begging for my mouth to be on them.
Raking my eyes down her body, I take in the turquoise silk dress that showcases every bit of Emree’s grabbable curves. The straps holding it up are so thin they’re barely there. The top of the dress is bunched up fabric and dips low enough to give you a good view of her luscious cleavage but still modest. The hem is my favorite part. While Emree is on the shorter side, she has legs that look long on her small frame. They are tan, and her thighs are nice and thick, and the bottom is clinging to the middle of them. She has paired the outfit with a pair of strappy silver heels that add about four inches to her height.
“Fuck, baby, you are killing me.” Closing my eyes, I drop my head back and try to throw out all the thoughts about how I want to fuck her with those heels on or the vision I have of pinning her to a wall and lifting that dress, hoisting her up by the thighs and plowing into her. She doesn’t need my dirty mind right now. She deserves a gentleman who is going to win her heart back.
She looks down at her dress and smooths a hand over the front. “You like?”
