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I keep my head tucked down until I open the front door, turning only to wave at him as I enter the home.
My mom stands at the bay window that overlooks the front yard, arms crossed over herself, pajamas peeking out from under the hem of her terrycloth robe.
She clears her throat as I toe off my shoes.
“He’s a nice boy,” she says with a hint of venom. “He sure is going places.”
“He is,” I bite back. I know my mom well enough to look for the words that are hidden in her sentences.
‘He’s a nice boy.’What's he doing spending time with you?
‘He sure is going places.’You’ll hold him down.
‘You two may like each other now, but once you go out in the world and see there is more to life than the boy you know from school, you’ll drift apart.’Maybe he likes you now, but that will all change once he meets other girls.
“Hell yeah,” I mutter, clearing my throat and sounding less confident than I was a minute ago. “You know, you act like you think it’s a stupid show, but you always remind me it's on.” I finally turn around and lean my back against the pantry door, tucking my hands behind me.
He leans into me, a tuft of hair falling across his forehead as he does. An arm comes up to rest on the wall behind me and my chest heaves with the contact. “Maybe I like seeing you happy.”
A lonely bead of sweat rolls down the side of his head, across his temple and down his cheek.
It isn't fair. Someone who spent their morning at the gym on a ninety-degree day, with limited A/C should smell awful. I should be holding my breath, or cringing at the close contact, but I find myself leaning into him, breathing him in, wanting to soak in every second of him.
Summer is coming to an end, and before I know it, he will be packing his bags, moving to Tennessee to start the Lineman Program.
He could have anyone he wants, and it won’t be long before he finds himself some gorgeous southern belle. One with flawless hair who doesn’t belch, understands proper cutlery etiquette, and who comes from a proper family with a bright future ahead of her.
Maybe my mom was right; a guy like him doesn’t settle for the girl destined to work for tips at the local diner.
“Maybe I like seeing you happy,” he says, flashing that smile that pulls me from my thoughts.
~
“I don’t think she’s gonna do it. She’s gonna tap, I know it.”
Emmett scoffs as he reaches over to grab a handful of popcorn from the bowl centered in my lap, his forearm lingering on my thigh as he does. The contact forces a stream of goosebumps across my flesh. Even in the heat of summer, with the windows open and a sheen of sweat across my back, wearing the tiniest tank top and shorts I own, he sparks goosebumps.
“Yvonne isn’t that big of a priss. I think she could do it. Hell,I could eat that.”
I laugh at that. Mr. I-Can’t-Stand-Boiled-Peanuts is somehow going to eat an entire pound of deep-fried crickets.
He showered and changed and is now wearing jersey shorts and a plain white tee. I should be thankful his shoulders and sides aren’t on display, but the shirt is so tight it’s sprawled across his broad chest and stretches to barely contain his biceps. The smell of his body wash and shampoo hasn’t stopped invading my senses since he came downstairs, and now he’s sitting close, too close. So close, the back of his knuckles graze my leg each time he adjusts his shorts. A couch that normally fits three people is easily too small for the two of us.
“I think you’d get three crickets in and panic,” I tell him, forcing my thoughts back to the show. “Although for that kind of cash? I’d do some gnarly things. Wouldn’t you?”
He shrugs. “If you were my partner, I’d probably force myself through it.”
“Now if that isn’t the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” I tease, before an idea strikes. Shoving the bowl to the coffee table I turn and pull my knees up and under me, facing him. “Oh my God,thatwill be the plan.”
“The plan?”
“Yes.” I nod eagerly. “Who needs to go to college, or find a career and grow up when we can try out forThe Amazing Race? We could travel the world, Emmett, seeeverything. Explore, while also potentially willing some serious cash.”
“You know there are other ways to travel the world without having to eat disgusting shit, walk hundreds of miles and put off school.” He reaches over to grab the remote from me and flips the channel to a ball game.
“Are you smashing my greatest dream?” I ask, pulling the remote from his hand. He knows better than to change the channel when it’s Amazing Race Night. Even if it’s on a commercial break.
He swipes the remote out of my hand and flips the channel back to baseball. “If your greatest dream is to sleep in tents and eat charred insects, then yeah, I’m smashing it. How about you find a job you love, make money, and travel the world to see all those places you want to see on your own terms, without having to compete? I’ll bet you could find a store that sells deep-fried cockroaches.”
