But neither of us has addressed it. Him, because he’s afraid of being shot down again and me, because…it just feels too quick. I’ve always been overly cautious, and I’ve never barreled into anything like this. Being with Emery is the most reckless thing I’ve ever done. We went from zero to sixty in just a few weeks. I’m just not ready. And when I say it, I have to be absolutely sure that I mean it and that this is what I want, because I can’t hurt him again.
“Let’s order in, instead. How about Thai?” I ask.
I’m just exhausted. After working in a classroom with kids all morning and then coming home and helping my mom pack the rest of her stuff up, I just want to sit down. I don’t much feel like cooking.
“Yeah. Sounds good. I love Thai. You know, one day, I’d like to go to Thailand and go to some of the floating markets.”
“Huh?” I ask, sinking down on the couch and pulling up the Thai restaurant’s number on my phone.
“Yeah, you like sit in a boat and go down these canals and you can stop at these shops on the water and like buy food and shit. Doesn’t that sound so amazing and surreal? I saw it all on YouTube when I was looking up something else and then got distracted.”
I nod, smiling and pressing a kiss to his forehead, because he’s just so damn cute. Then I call and place our dinner order. And then I call back again and change it because Emery forgot to mention that he also wanted spring rolls and a Thai tea with extra sugar.
When that’s done, I set my phone down and Emery clambers on top of me, straddling my hips.
“So, I have some news. Wanna hear it?”
“Always.”
“I’ve signed up for some accounting classes at the community college,” Emery says with a shy smile.
“Yeah? That’s great! What made you want to do that?”
“Well, I’m good at math and Lex says that I’m good at cookin’ the books.”
Jesus, I think as I run my hand across his lower back. Does he really cook the books? Emery wiggles on top of me, not seeming to notice my apprehension at that phrase. I’m almost positive he was just joking, but with Lex, who knows? That guy just looks illegal.
“And I mean, I can’t just stay stuck where I am. I need to like, get out there. Make something of myself. I figured I’d see if I was any good at it. Dr. K thinks it’s a great idea. So, I start two eight-week courses in April.”
“That’s awesome, Em,” I say and pull him in for a kiss. “We should celebrate. What do you want to do before dinner comes?”
“Um, I already told you.”
I wince as my back twinges, and I sigh. “I think I may need a raincheck. Or at least a few Advil before I bend over.”
“God, you’re like an eighty-year-old man. You need to take it easy. Maybe stop mowing people’s lawns all the time. Maybe next time, I can do all the work while you keep Mrs. Melnyk company. I’ll take my shirt off and you can ogle me with her binoculars.” He nudges me and I huff a laugh.
“I just tweaked my back a bit today lifting boxes. I’ll be fine tomorrow.”
Emery looks guilty and those brown eyes widen.
“Oh, well I could give you a massage since I totally dropped the ball today. Would that help?” he says, and I cock my head.
“You know how to give massages?”
“God yes. And plus, that means I get to touch you. I live to touch you. Where do I sign up?”
I chuckle and he’s pawing at the bottom of my shirt. “Okay, lie down. And you’ll have the best massage of your life.”
He scrambles off of me and I do as he says. He pushes my shirt up my back and then sighs. “You have such a hot back. You’re so sexy all over. This would be better if you were completely naked.”
I huff a laugh and he grumbles under his breath when I make no move to remove my clothes. And then his hands start pressing firmly into my sore muscles. But I should have known that a massage from Emery would be a wild ride. He doesn’t stay in one place and work that muscle group. No, he moves from one corner of my back to the next within seconds. And then his hands are on my ass, which I’m fairly sure is not for my benefit. Then he’s kneading my neck and head. Why is he rubbing my earlobe?
He shifts on top of my thighs as he works, unable to sit still and I smile into my arm.
It’s so fucking adorable.
“I can see you smirking. I’m terrible at this, I know. I was trying to fake it ‘til I make it, but that’s not something that actually works in real life,” he grouses, and I grab onto his hand and pull it to my mouth, kissing it softly. I love his hands. Love them on me.