“I think I need to sit down,” Emily mutters, making me realize I was still holding her damn hand when she pulls it out of mine to rub her forehead.
“Right this way.” I usher her with my arm outstretched toward the chairs I vacated when she came stumbling out here, following right behind her instead of disappearing into the house and locking myself in my room until the party is over, like a smart man would do.
I’ll just stick around for a few minutes; that’s it. Make sure she sobers up okay….
Grabbing a bottle of water out of the minifridge next to the outdoor fireplace, I hand it to her before taking a seat in the middle of the lounger opposite her. With our knees brushing up against each other, she quietly thanks me before unscrewing the cap and taking a few sips.
“Do you want some coffee or something?” I ask, suddenly trying to come up with any reason to spend more time with her instead of coming up with a reason to get the hell out of here and figure out my life.
“I think I’ve put you out enough tonight. I just wanted to come out here and apologize for being so rude earlier, but the tequila decided it should speak and walk for me.” She shrugs with that killer smile again, making me forget everything I was just thinking and want to tell her all of my problems so she can cheer me up. “I really am sorry for being such a jerk. I’m actually a really nice person, but tequila made me do it. You can go back to the party; I just need a few minutes, and I’ll be fine.”
Remembering that no one is going to die if I don’t make up my mind right this second, I stop worrying so much and just enjoy being out here away from everyone else with a woman who makes me laugh and feel like a regular, everyday guy. A woman who doesn’t freak out and ask for a million pictures together when she realizes who I am or throw herself at me, making everything awkward and uncomfortable when she won’t stop trying to give me a blowjob in the bathroom or flat out asks me how much money I make. I have seen and heard it all since I signed with the Vipers, but this spunky redhead who can tease me right back—and not be completely mortified and want to run away screaming after what happened—is a woman I want to get to know better. Even if it’s temporary.
Leaning to the side to pull my cell out of the back pocket of my jeans, I tap on the phone icon and then the number of the last call I dialed, bringing my phone up to my ear.
“What do you want?” my call is so nicely answered, making me smile.
“Can you bring two coffees out to the firepit? One the way I like it, and one…” Pulling the phone away from my mouth, I whisper to Emily, “How do you take your coffee?”
An image pops into my head of Emily’s red hair fanned out on my pillow with the bright morning sun shining on it through the window as I lean over her body in bed and ask her the same, suddenly intimate-sounding question. I have to shake my head and clear my throat to make it go away.
“Three sugars with a splash of cream, please and thank you.”
I repeat back her order before ending the call, watching the skin of her throat bob when she brings the water bottle back up to her lips and swallows a few more gulps. I try really hard and fail not to think about how she smelled like a beach vacation and sunshine when I was leaning over her, holding her hair back, wondering if the delicate skin of her neck smells the same way.
Good God, man. It’s like you’ve been locked away in prison for twenty years and haven’t touched a woman in that amount of time. What is wrong with you?
With a quickness that makes me happy I asked her to come out for a visit—before I open my mouth and say something stupid—my sister walks around the corner of the house at a clipped pace with two steaming mugs of coffee in her hands.
“Wow, it’s like magic,” Emily whispers in awe. “Call back and ask for all the puppies and a large pepperoni pizza.”
The last woman I went on a date with actually asked me to buy her a car while the appetizers were being served. Emily wants puppies and a pizza. I want to keep her forever. Also, this is not a date, you dipshit.
“That’s my sister, Rachel. There’s a side entrance off the kitchen, so she didn’t have to bother walking through all those people who are probably still watching the worst game of my career, insulting my skills, and mocking my walls.”