Without a Doubt (12 page)

He shakes his head. “Nope. I get to stay here and do homework.”

“Lucky you.” I stand to get dressed, so I can go back to my dorm. After I change, I go into the bathroom, picking up the toothbrush Emerson bought for me. I still think it's sweet he did that. It gives me a warm, fuzzy feeling knowing there's something in this barely personal apartment of his that's mine. I have a small presence here.

Suddenly, I remember one of my dreams last night, where I was waiting for Emerson to choose between Kelly and me. My shoulders sag as I finish brushing my teeth. Will it always feel like this between us? Like I'm competing with her? He hasn't talked about her much when she has come up in our conversations. I take a deep breath. I need to stop worrying about what if's and focus on what's actually happening. I can deal with the what if when it happens. If it happens.

“Want me to walk you out?” Emerson asks, standing as I return to the living room with all of my things.

“No, that's okay. Thanks again for yesterday.”

He smiles, those baby blue eyes bright; both are distracting. “I'm happy you enjoyed it.” He takes my hand, interlocking our fingers. “When do I get to see you again, Eva?”

“Already thinking about the next time?” I can't help my grin.

“Oh, yeah. I'm always thinking about the next time with you.”

“I'll check what days I work and let you know.” I lean forward to kiss him. I love kissing him, I really do. It's so easy to get lost in him and caught up in the moment. However, I do have some self-control and while I want to kiss him all day, I have to leave. After two brief kisses, I pull away. “Bye, Emerson.”

Emerson: Can I see you tonight?

I smile. He sent that text Monday too. I couldn't because I had to close. Yesterday, he said he wished he could see me, but he was working. Unfortunately, I'm working today. A text like that from Emerson is a great thing to wake up to first thing in the morning.

Me: I have to work. :(

Emerson: Come afterward and spend the night.

Me: I won't be there until almost nine.

Emerson: What's your point?

Before I can reply, he sends another text.

Emerson: What if I said I have a surprise for you?

Me: Fine. You cornered me! I'll be there.

Emerson: Haha, good.

I roll out of bed and head to the shower, wondering what his surprise could be this time. Is he taking me somewhere again? Did he get me something? What could it be? The possibilities are endless, so I happily settle with the thought that there is a surprise. I make sure to shave my legs, so they're smooth later.

“Damn it!” I curse under my breath as I nick myself with the razor. Being a girl is full of hazards. Some days, it really gets to me. The shaving, the periods, the boob sweat, and all the money spent on hairpins because they just like to disappear without a trace. But I can handle one little cut on the back of my ankle.

The rest of my getting ready process goes smoothly. Catherine is still sleeping since she doesn't have a class until noon today, so I grab my things and quietly leave the dorm. I'm a morning class girl myself. Most people prefer to get them later in the day if they can, but I'd rather go ahead and get it over with. There's a slight chill in the air, and I'm grinning because fall is on the way. Sure, it'll be in the high seventies later, but I can't wait for the full changing of the seasons.

Before I go into my class, I stop at the vending machine for a soda. I'm thinking it'll be grape soda today. I don't really have a favorite drink. I usually pick one at random or go with whatever I'm feeling like. The vending machine takes my dollar on the first try, and I mentally high-five myself over the accomplishment.

The bottle tumbles out. I pick it up and twist the cap to open it. The fizz quickly rises to the top, spewing out before I have a chance to close the lid since I've already fully opened it. I groan in frustration as the purple liquid soaks into my bright green shirt.

“You've got to be kidding me,” I mumble under my breath. No wonder the damn vending machine took my money with ease. It had an evil plan in waiting.

“Here.” I glance up just in time to see a random guy with handful of paper towels in his hand reach out to pat my soaked chest.

I quickly take a few steps back. “How about I just take the towels?” How creepy is he?! You can't touch my breasts like that, not even to help! I don't know him!

The guy shrugs, hands me the towels, and walks away. I glance at the clock on the wall. I have one minute before class starts. Crap. I don't have time to run to the dorms to change or even go to the nearby bathroom. I wipe my hands, arms, and shirt the best I can before entering the classroom.

The professor starts his lecture, and I try to take notes, but all I can focus on is how sticky I am. I can't stand to be sticky. Thankfully, this is my only class today, so I can shower afterward. Halfway through class, my pen runs out of ink.

You've got to be kidding me.

My favorite pen has died on me?

On the one day I didn't bring extra pens!

I cringe at the thought of typing notes on my phone with my sticky fingers, but since my pen died, I have no choice. Nothing else bad happens for the rest of the class.

Until I try to leave.

I trip going down the concrete stairs, skinning my hands and knees which burn immediately. No one offers help this time, and I'm half glad for it. I don't do well with these kinds of days. My grouchiness is through the roof. My eyes are watery because this is stupid crap and things like this make me want to shed a few tears in anger.

“Eva?” I hear once I've stood. I turn to see Emerson. My shoulders droop. He would appear at a time like this. “What happened to you?” he frowns as he gives me a once-over.

“What
didn't
happen to me?” I snap, fully irritated with my day.

His eyes widen with surprise. “That bad of a start to your day?”

“Look at me!” I motion with my hands at my soaked shirt and my knees, which I'm sure are bleeding but I'm not looking. “What do you think?”

“I think I have perfect timing. Do you have another class?” I shake my head and he holds out his hand. “C'mon.” He gently holds my hand in his as we begin to walk.

“What are you doing here? How did you find me?”

“Catherine, and I'm here because I didn't want to wait until later to see you. Sounds like you needed to see my pretty face, too.”

I laugh. “It is helpful just a bit. Where are we going?”

“You're going to grab a change of clothes, plus your work clothes, and then we're going to my apartment to get you cleaned up. Your hand is sticky.”

“I didn't get a chance to go to the bathroom before class.” I try to pull it away, but he holds on. We stop by my dorm where I grab my things. Emerson tells me to get my stuff to spend the night as well. I try not to look down at my burning knees. Blood and I do not get along. The last thing I need is to faint in front of him over what's hopefully only a few droplets of blood. When Emerson starts walking toward his truck, I object. “I have to work in a few hours; I need to drive my car.”

“I'll take you to work.” He opens the door to his truck and waits. “C'mon, Eva. We don't have all day.” He's trying not to smile. He knows he won. He probably knew he won the moment I saw him because that's when I gave up on today. It was over when he took my hand because he took charge and started taking care of me. He finally grins when I get into his truck.

“When do I get my surprise?” I ask when he gets inside.

“Tonight.” When I don't respond, he glances over to see my raised eyebrow. Emerson laughs. “It's nothing like that or whatever it is you're thinking. It's something simple. The only reason I'm even calling it a surprise is because I knew it would definitely make you come over.”

“You think you have me all figured out, don't you?”

“Pretty much,” he says as he parks the truck. He takes my bag of clothes and carries it inside. He drops it on the couch and then leads me into the bathroom, where he makes me sit on the tub. He grabs a rag and wets it. When he kneels in front of me, I peek at my knees.

Bad decision.

“Oh, God.” The sight of a few droplets and little red lines of blood has me woozy. My eyes are tempted to roll into the back of my head, and all of the control over my body exits, willing me to give in and faint.

“What?” Emerson asks with concern.

“I don't do well with blood, not even my own. I think I might pass out,” I mumble.

“Seriously?” he laughs.

“Yeah.”

“Rest your head on my shoulder then.”

I do, turning my face toward his neck. “So, you think you have me all figured out?” Anything to get my mind off the bits of blood.

Emerson is gentle as he begins wiping my knees. “Yeah. Blood freaks you out. You love animals. You like to have the windows down in the summer with the music loud. You love surprises. It takes you a while to wake up. You're pretty much a happy go-lucky girl until some crappy things happen in your day, which shocked me actually. And last but not least, you're kind of nosey.”

“I like to think of myself as curious, thank you.”

He laughs. “You're funny, too. Hold out your hands.” I do, and he begins to wipe them as well.

I'm no longer lightheaded, but I stay put. He smells good. I mean, he smells like soap, but it's a nice smelling soap. He's right though. He knows me well. “At least one of us has the other figured out.”

It's not until the rag stops moving over my hand that I realize I said it out loud. Did I strike a chord with him? The rag moves to my other hand.

“You know me, Eva,” he says quietly, softly as if he's trying to convince us both. “Tell me what you
have
figured out.”

My list starts out innocently enough. “You like video games, probably the military combat type if you're like Glen. You're neat and organized. You're a cover hog and a grouch in the middle of the night.” He chuckles. “You love Smitty's.” I sit up, his eyes lift to mine, and because I'm a glutton for punishment, I finish my list with, “Your ex, Kelly? I think your break up with her still bothers you.”

Emerson stares at me. He seems surprised, but there's something else there I can't quite put my finger on. This is his chance to say something. To tell me and ease the worries he doesn't even know I have. After a moment longer, he stands, pulling me up with him. “It bothers me sometimes,” he acknowledges.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

His answer is quick. “No, it's in the past, Eva. I'd rather focus on you and the present.” He tosses the rag into the sink. I don't know if that's a soothing answer or not.

“Thanks for cleaning up my scrapes. Will you bring me my bag so I can change and get all the stickiness off me?”

“Yeah, sure.” Before he leaves, he grabs me a fresh rag and a towel. While he's gone, I grab the bar of soap and start cleaning my arms. He drops off my bag before walking back out.

I change and a few minutes later, I'm pretty much back to normal. Emerson is sitting on the couch, his legs stretched out with his ankles crossed, his head leaning back as he looks at the ceiling. I feel bad about bringing up Kelly, who he's probably thinking about right now. Instead of sitting next to him, I straddle his lap, causing him to lift his head. He arches a brow at my seat choice, but I ignore it.

“So, you were pretty eager to see me?” I rest my hand on my thighs, not wanting to appear like I'm about to seduce him. It's tempting, but not yet.

“Yeah. My day was going a lot like yours, so I thought about how often you smile and make me laugh. I didn't want to wait. Wasn't expecting to find you in the same boat.”

“You were having a bad day?” I ask skeptically.

He laughs. “Yeah. You don't believe me?”

“No. You looked too happy.”

“That's because I was happy to see you, even though I felt bad you had just fallen.” He places his hands on my ass and pulls me forward, closer, before moving them to my hips. “What time do you need to get ready for work?”

“One. What are you going to do with me until then?”

He chuckles, his hands moving up my arms until they cup my face. “I never know what do with you, Eva.”

I smile, leaning forward as my arms move around his neck. “I don't know why, but that sounds like a compliment. Thank you, and thank you for saving my crappy day.”

“You saved mine.”

I'm about to object that I couldn't have done much since I snapped at him when I first saw him, but he doesn't give me the chance. He kisses me instead. My body goes from warm to scorching hot rather quickly. Tingles shoot up my spine as our tongues collide. Why do we even talk when we could be doing this all the time? There's so much control in the way his mouth moves with mine, yet there's clearly a hunger lurking just beneath the surface, waiting for permission to come out and devour me whole.

It's as if he's tottering between completely ravaging me as quickly as possible and savoring every second. And me? I'm helplessly following along right there with him. His hands skim down my back, his grip strong when he reaches my hips. Emerson decides he should travel down to my neck. His hot open mouth on my skin brings a moan out of me.