Embracing Emma (Companion to Brisé) (17 page)

“Hey baby.” His words are close to my ear as his head nestles in the crook of my neck. His lips graze my skin and shivers cover my body.

I pull back. “Hey, QB.” I wink at him, and he pulls me back to him. His lips meeting mine, teasing, licking the seam for me to open, I oblige. My momma didn’t raise an idiot.

“I missed you,” he says in between nips and pecks.

“Missed you.” He climbs out of the truck, not letting me down, and grabs his duffel bag. I’m draped over him like a spider monkey and neither of us moves to disturb the arrangement. Brett and James chuckle at the door and awkwardly hug him, trying to avoid my body. “Mine,” I playfully growl at them.

“Somebody forgot to feed the zoo animal,” James states good-naturedly.

“HA-HA.” I glare at him.

“Dinner tonight here,” Brett reminds us. I need to get all the touchy feely stuff out of the way before my dad comes over. It still makes him irritated even though it’s Will. I couldn’t imagine dating someone else; Dad would have to be institutionalized. He climbs the stairs like my added weight doesn’t bother him at all. He’s not winded or slowing his steps. He drops his bag on the floor, me on the bed. His body follows mine, and I feel every hard inch of him covering me. “Hey.” His dimple is the last thing I see as his mouth devours mine. I could get used to homecomings.

Dinner is boisterous. Our superstar is home, and everyone is vying for a conversation with him. Except my mom and me. So it’s just the men being loud. She reaches over and grabs my hand, shoots me a wink, and shakes her head at the couch-coaching happening. Brett and my dad disagree with each point Will and James make . . . over and over.

“Uh, isn’t football over?” I ask.

All four swing their eyes to me. “Yes.” My dad frowns.

“So all the plays you’re critiquing, the passes you’re challenging, it’s all for nothing?” All four sets of eyes narrow, mouths hanging open. My mom giggling is the only sound besides huffing and puffing.

“Well—”

“Next season—”

“Pointers—”

All their voices are mingling together, all with a different excuse. “Just sayin.’” I shrug my shoulders as I go back to my perfectly cooked steak. Eyes wide, frowns prominent, they’re all finally speechless. My mom clinks her wine glass against my soda and smirks at the testosterone-laden table.

It almost worked. They go back to it, and I roll my eyes. “How was Nana today?”

We try to alternate days to visit, so she isn’t overwhelmed. A few days we all go together, and that works but multiple visits a day throws her off. “Good. I warned her Will was home, but she seemed to take it in stride. Asked for coffee in the morning.”

My mom shakes her head smiling. “We’re going to go Sunday. With you and Will going tomorrow, and him being an unfamiliar face, I don’t want to make her jittery with so many people. Brett said she was flirting last week when they went.”

“With who?” I’m shocked. There’s never been another man for her other than my Papa.

“James.” She chuckles. “Ms. Wilma pinched his butt.”

“Shut up. I’d pay to see that.”

“Brett says James is terrified to go back.”

“Quit talking about my assault like I’m not here.” He’s not amused.

Brett smiles and takes his hand. “Honey, a little pinch on the ass is hardly assault.”

“I have sensitive skin. I bruise like a peach.”

We all laugh. “I’ll make sure to send Ms. Wilma your best.” I tease him. “Or I’ll let her know William is your son and you may lose her affection.” Will stares at me. He doesn’t have any experience with the routine and residents we’ve been familiar with.

“What?” The big ole’ QB is shaking in his boots.

“It’s not that big of a deal. Some days it’s like feeding time at a zoo and others they are as docile as sleeping babies.” I wink at him. No, I don’t think they are animals, but just like a roomful of toddlers, it can become overwhelming depending on the mood. If one resident is cranky or out of sorts, it’s a ripple effect. Shit rolls downhill, and in this case, mayhem can ensue in the blink of an eye.

I let him stew in his anxiousness throughout dinner; at the dock I let him off the hook. “It’s not a free for all. I know you have this picture in your mind, I was just teasing you. Don’t get me wrong, it can get crazy. They are so in tune with each other if one is having an off day they sort of band together. It’s like they are protecting each other, but they aren’t sure from what. Most of the time it’s mellow. Games, activities, television. I told Nana you were coming, and she seemed to have a recollection of you, but we’ll see.”

“You seem a lot better about this.”

“Time. And I’ve seen the results. I fought out of guilt and selfishness. I didn’t want a stranger to take better care of her than me . . . it made me feel like I was failing her. I wanted the full time with her, somehow I had it stuck in my mind if it was me constantly, she’d remember me.” I study his face, watching for disinterest. I can go on and on about Nana, but this has impacted me more than anything else in my seventeen years. “It doesn’t work like that. I learned it through observation, counseling sessions, and seeing the results. Nana still has bad days, but those aren’t as bad as before.”

“I’m glad. For her. For you. Your mom and dad.”

I lean in to him. “It’s made it easier. I was scared to death when you left for school. Everything was so new, and I didn’t know the adjustment would be as easy as it was. I just knew you wouldn’t be here to hold me, and I had no clue how I was going to get through it.”

“Ems, I told you I would give it all up. Nothing is more important than you.”

“I wouldn’t let you. You worked hard to get here. You deserve it. And I needed to see for myself. You can’t fight all my battles for me.”

“The hell I can’t. No more hiding this shit from me. If you’re scared, tell me. It’s up to me to alleviate those doubts. If you cut me out, this won’t work, and I’m not letting that happen.”

“I’ll never cut you out. I miss you like crazy—so much sometimes that I’m lost. In the end, I know it’s the best. I didn’t know where I began and you ended. You’re not only the love of my life but my best friend. We’ve always had a relationship, it’s changed over time, but we need to have an identity outside of this relationship. This has helped do that.” It’s crazy; he looks like I just told him he sucked at football. “What’s wrong?”

“It seems like you are creating a divide. Dismissing what we are.”

“Not at all. If you didn’t have football you wouldn’t be happy. You wouldn’t bring what you do to this relationship. You’d be moody, miserable. You’d have no passion for living. That’s what I’m saying. I’m learning what my passion is, exploring the options for my future—a future where I see you by my side. I don’t want a divide, and I don’t feel one.”

“Me either and I don’t want to. Without you, Ems, I don’t know what I’d do.”

“That option is off the table. You’ll never have to wonder.”

“Promise?”

“Yep.”

“No contingency? Like as long as I don’t do something stupid.”

“You know how I feel about that word. Stupid is with malice. Unfixable. You wouldn’t. If you screw up, you fix it. That’s called a pathway to life, babe, not stupid. We all have growing pains.”

“Speaking of growing pains, where did that new dent come from in your bumper?”

“Which one?”

“What do you mean which one?”

“Um,” I ponder that. I have no clue. Take your pick. Those are the answers I have, but I don’t think that’s what he wants to hear by the incredulous look he’s shooting me.

“How many things have you hit, Ems?”

“Hit is a bit of a harsh word for my cuddles with my car. I tap the mailbox occasionally. Sometimes I give the corner of the garage a hug, it looks lonely and plain. I just try to give it a spark of life. The trashcans are a funny story. It’s an obstacle course my dad has challenged me with. We just discussed it this afternoon.”

“Holy shit. You’re a menace to the driving world.”

“Hush. I haven’t hit a moving target . . . yet. Keep dissing my driving, though, and I’ll take it as you issuing a challenge.”

“Oh God. No baby, no. I just need you to be careful.”

“It’s not like the garbage can is going to jump up and beat my ass from road rage. I doubt the garage door is going to whip out a gun, and I can guarantee you the mailbox has nothing for me. That fucker ends up laying prone from a quick little hug.”

“What scares me the most is that you’re serious.”

“I don’t take driving lightly. And you know I’m not generous with my hugs. They have to be earned. Every item I’ve touched with my car has been with careful thought, and we now have a lasting relationship.”

I watch his head fall back, I hear the sound of laughter escape from his chest. I see the crinkle near his eyes; I feel the vibrations coming from his body. Most of all, I’m wrapped in his love. His laughter. His arms.

We’re finally home.

Chapter Eighteen

William

Every time I leave her, it gets harder and harder. After being home almost a month this time, it took all I had to pry my hands off her. Spring Break can’t come soon enough. I hope one of us will get a weekend to visit, but it isn’t looking good with our schedules. I’ll have spring training and weight lifting, studying, and midterms. She has another three AP classes, Nana, midterms, and her running. I still think she’s too thin. After our third conversation and her threatening bodily harm, I backed off. I’m just glad it’s not as excessive as it was during summer.

I head to my room, passing Seth’s open door. “Hey,” he calls. I was hoping to sneak in. Things aren’t as tense with us, but it’s because we have separation from the town and their triggers. They never seem to leave campus, and it’s made my breaks downright euphoric. I’ve reforged a bond with my parents, Emma isn’t on my ass to stay away from them, and the douchenuggets aren’t spewing shit that causes me to consider murder. Turning the other cheek was getting old.

“Hey, man.” I remain cordial.

“You just getting home?”

“Yep.”

“How was small town life?”

“Good.” Brian enters the room.

“See your girl?” I bristle; he knows this topic is off limits.

I ignore him. “I was just making conversation,” he chuckles, full of shit.

“Pick another topic.” I make sure he knows I’m serious. He raises his hands in surrender.

“You looking forward to hitting the weights?” I nod. I crave the burn in my muscles, leaving it all in the room, and come fall I leave it on the field. We have a great chance next year, and it fuels me, excites me.

“See ya.” I make my way to my room for some peace and quiet. Besides team things, we give each other wide berth. I dread summer when we are in the same town for a few weeks. I am hoping against hope they’ll stay here, but I know they won’t. The dorms shut down for a few weeks at the end of summer, and they’ll have no choice but to be menacing back home.

School is intense. I’m no closer to knowing what the hell I want to do besides football, classes aren’t difficult, but I don’t breeze through them either. Emma is busy, but we keep our promise to interact every day. It’s multiple times daily with texts and such, but we have an actual conversation via FaceTime or phone every evening. I usually go to the dining hall and bring the food back to my room so I can have uninterrupted time with her. I’m not a total recluse and have met some great guys on the team. Ones I have no history with, and bonus points they don’t act like bigots. The friendships are a bit superficial, but they’re good guys at the core. Blake is the only one who continually asks me to hit the pub with him after I turn them down over and over. He’s from Florida and a laid back guy.