The Space in Between (23 page)

“You got me flowers?”

“No. Those are supposed to be for your mom. A make-up present as well as a Christmas one. You know, for what she caught us doing a couple weeks ago.”

“We were sleeping together on the grass in the middle of the night. It’s not like we were fucking in her bed or something.”

I’ve heard a lot of girls swear before. I mean, all it takes is walking down a couple of halls in school or really paying attention to the mean girls when they’re pissed off in class, and I swear you’ll have heard so much you won’t feel the need to do it yourself, but with Emery, it’s completely different.

She doesn’t do it often, so when it does slip out, it’s hot as hell, which does nothing to help my need to keep this innocent.

“I still feel bad and want to make it up to her.”

“Well, if the flowers aren’t for me, which they totally should be, what is?”

Leaning across her bed until my fingers grasp the packaging I delicately wrapped it in, I sit back up, smile and hand it over.

“Merry Christmas, Emery.”

Looking from me to the delicate package she’s now holding in her hands, it’s hard not to be overcome with adoration for her with the glow of happiness in her eyes as she starts undoing the paper.

I’m finally getting to see what buying something for someone that you really care about looks like. It’s beautiful.

I just hope she likes it and it wasn’t all in vain.

“Chris—I mean Mikey—no, I mean Christian...” she stammers. “It’s…wow. I don’t even know what to say. It’s gorgeous.”

Calming the nerves that have manifested themselves in the shaking of my legs and my knees knocking together, I stand and close the distance between us, seeing the shimmer of wetness in her eyes and catching it with my finger before it has the chance to fall.

“Do you really like it?”

“No, I don’t like it. I could never just like something like this. I
love
it.”

“It’s not too much?”

“Of course it’s too much, and I’m pretty sure when you see my present, you’re going to feel the same, but I don’t even care right now because it’s so beautiful. Our names and double infinity. It all makes sense now.”

Huh? What makes sense?

“Not following, Ems.”

“The infinity symbol Jonah caught you looking up. You weren’t going to get a tattoo. You meant what you said. You were just looking the meaning up.”

“I’m gonna kill him.” I practically seethe when I realize what’s happened. Jonah threw me under the bus.

“No, Mikey, you’re not. He was just worried about you. And honestly, so was I. Looks like the joke’s on us.” Laughing softly, she pulls the necklace delicately from the box, batting her eyes before laying the sweetest smile she has on me and holding it out between us. “Will you help me put it on?”

“Are you sure you want to?”

“Yeah. I want my mom to see it when we go downstairs. I want the entire world to see it, because it’s true.”

“What is?”

“You and me, Christian. We’re infinite.”

Emery

You would think with a camera hanging around my neck every day that wearing a necklace would be second nature, but it’s not. I think the last time I wore one, I was ten and it was something my grandma sent me and I felt obligated to wear.

I cared so little about it that I don’t even know where it is now. With the way I am, it’s probably lost over the side of the bluffs.

It doesn’t even matter because this, what he’s given me, is the one that matters. The necklace that once he slips it around my neck, won’t ever come off.

Even if I take it in to get cleaned, they’re gonna have to shine me up all pretty with it.

Lifting his hands up and over my head, I feel the brush of them against the back of my neck, the fine hairs standing at attention as they always do whenever he’s in the vicinity, and hearing the click of the clasp as he unhooks it, I wait with baited breath for him to finish.

Mostly because any attempt at talking I might make while his hands are as close as they are would be considered the ramblings of a lunatic.

“All done. Turn around please. I wanna see how it looks.”

Doing a twirl all the way around, I pause in a vogue like position and pout my lips, which earns me a laugh before he leans in and kisses me softly.

“The perfect necklace for the perfect girl.”

I could argue that I’m not perfect, but there’s something about the way he’s looking at me right now that says even I did try and mount an argument, it would fall flat. The way Christian looks at me, it’s the same as I do him.

We’re perfectly imperfect.

“Alright, Ems. I showed you mine. It’s only fair you show me yours.”

“In that case,” I play along, slipping my hands under my shirt and beginning to lift as he sucks in a breath and reaches out in an attempt to bring it back down. “You told me to show you!”

“Is my present under your shirt?”

Winking, I lower my hands back down and laugh. “Maaybe.”

“Emery…”

“Mikey…”

Stepping away and slipping my hand through the tight space between the wall and my desk, I feel the edges of his present and pull on it slowly, only lifting once I’ve got a firm enough grip, and with one final look at what I painstakingly spent weeks working on, I turn and hand it over.

“Merry Christian, Christmas.” I laugh as he takes it and again, sucking in and holding my breath, I watch mesmerized as he opens the cover and takes sight of each of the pages inside.

It had taken awhile, but I knew that this being our first Christmas together as a couple, I wanted to do something unique. Put together a present that was completely original and reflected us, much the same way he had done with the necklace that now hangs so daintily around my neck.

“Ems…Did you really do all of this yourself?”

Nodding, I move in and even though I’m taking it at an upside down angle, slip my hand down over his and turn the pages until we get to the one I really want him to see.

A picture he has no idea I even took.

A month ago when we were jamming in the music room, I’d gotten up and left to grab some snacks. Christian at the time was so immersed in the song he was putting together, writing the music tabs for it as well as the lyrics and testing them out as he went along, that he hadn’t even noticed I’d taken my camera with me.

Coming back in, attempting stealth mode like the ninjas I’ve seen so much of on television, I’d slipped my way silently across the room and turning down the flash, started snapping pictures.

When you spend so much time around each other, things like the way their hair sits, or how dreamy their eyes go when they’re concentrating on something they love, cease to exist. It all flows together into a repetitive package and you never really notice the small things. What you’re actually missing out on.

Taking pictures that day, it showed me. The way his lips would purse when something didn’t quite work right, or the intense stare of his as he’s moving his hands, creating music by pulling the chords and notes straight from the center of his heart.

Christian never looked as beautiful as he did that day, and while it would have been easy to just sit and tell him the way it made me feel, I thought showing him would be better.

“When did you take this?”

“Last month.”

“When? We were together the entire time and it’s not very often that I’m not fixated on you, but here, it’s like I’m in another world.”

“It’s because you were.”

“Elaborate please?”

“I went to get munchies and when I came back in, you were so deep into the music you were trying to create that I didn’t want to interrupt. It would have ruined it. So I took these instead. I wanted to remember it. Preserve it forever.”

“You definitely did that.” He agrees, continuing to flip through the pages, his eyes growing softer with each one he passes by. “I had no idea you knew how to do this kind of thing.”

“I get bored sometimes, so when that happens, I go through the Annex catalog and find a class to take. I took Scrapbooking last July.”

“It’s us.”

“Yeah. Well, not all of it. I mean there’s the shots I just showed you where it’s just you, but the idea is, I wanted to put together the story of us and since I’m not exactly the best writer on the planet, I decided to do it in pictures instead.”

“Even using ones from before we got together?”

“We’ve always been together, Mikey. Right from that first awkward day. Almost running someone over bonds them.”

If you’ve never seen a guy melt, I suggest using my idea, because the moment his blue eyes lift away from their place scanning through our story and they land on me, I’m pretty sure I’ve turned him to mush.

It’s only when I see the glazed over look in his eyes that I realize I’ve done a whole lot more than make him melt. I’ve also made him cry.

Damn I’m good.

“Your gift,” he begins softly, pausing long enough to swipe at his eye, affectively wiping away the physical traces of the emotionally driven moment. “It’s the best one I’ve ever received.”

“There’s plenty more where that came from.”

Turning away just long enough to place the book down on my bed, he turns back and time seems to stand still when our eyes meet again. It’s the moment in the movies where everything comes to a head and you just know the hero is going to move in, sweep his girl off her feet and carry her off into the sunset.

Only this isn’t a movie. This is real life and Christian isn’t going to play by the rules.

Instead he steps forward, his hands finding and cupping my face and even though they’re a little rougher than usual, it’s easy to see why. Emotions are at a fever pitch, any second ready to bubble over, and doing the only thing he can in the moment to quell them, his lips find mine and just like before, we’re swept up into the tidal wave of passion that is us when we’re together.

Our bodies pressed so perfectly into each other, our lips the perfect blend of soft and hard and wet and dry, his skin burning mine in every place that we’re making contact.

It’s right here in this quiet moment away from the rest of the world that I accept what I think I’ve always just known, but been too scared to admit out loud.

I’m falling in love with him.

Chapter Twenty

January 2015

Christian

I think I’ve been hit in the head by too many soccer balls because no matter how many times I go over these math questions, nothing seems to stick.

Giving up and tossing the book across the bed, watching as it bounces once before landing right on Emery’s knee, I flinch.
That didn’t go the way I wanted it to.

Picking it up and moving it off until it’s laid down flat at the end of the bed closest to the wall, she looks up from her own work and shoots me a sympathetic smile.

“Easy to see why you’re on the soccer team after that shot. Captain of the basketball team you’re not.”

“Ha-ha, very funny.” I stick my tongue out. “I’d like to see you do all the questions Mr. Winters wants.”

“I already did them.” She smirks, pointing over to her desk where the rest of her books are situated. “I finished them in class earlier.”

“Of course you did.”

“Aww! Is someone feeling a little jealous?”

“No,” I immediately deny, though the truth is, I am feeling pretty damn envious. “But just so I know, what would it take for my extremely smart, beautiful and amazing girlfriend to let me sneak a peek at her answers?”

“Baby, you’re the best, but you couldn’t afford it.”

“Ouch.” I say, fisting my hands into the shape of a blade and stabbing myself in the chest. “You really know how to torture a guy.”

“And you might be even better at drama than I am.”

“Okay…Since my first question didn’t work, I’m gonna try a different approach. What would you say to a study break?”

This question, unlike the one before it seems to hit the spot as she slides her books off her lap, crawling across the bed until she’s wrapping herself up in my arms with her back against my chest and turning her body just enough to give me access to those pretty pouty lips of hers that I enjoy so much.

“This answer your question?”

“Perfectly.”

Brushing her nose, I continue moving until our lips are touching, and just like every other time it happens, it provides the perfect distraction. So long math. So long Mr. Winters. The only overload I’m experiencing now is a sensory one. Her soft floral scent, mixed with the fruity taste of her lip gloss, and the feel of her fingers on my skin when she finally brings her arm up and around my neck, pulling me deeper under her spell.

Consumed by the soft moan that escapes as her lips part, I taste them with my tongue, before slipping past them, actively searching and finding her tongue, each movement deliberate as they finally come together and as always, begin their dance.

Bringing my arm around her back, I shift my body, picking her up gently and laying her back on the bed as I continue to taste her, resting myself above her and welcoming the warmth of her hands again as they come around my back and slide underneath my shirt, my need to feel her touch on my skin as strong as her own.

Breaking her lips from mine and leaning back just far enough to be able to take in the heated color of her cheeks and her heavy lidded eyes filled with desire, I bring myself down on top of her, her chest brushing against mine as I bring my lips to her neck and she sighs contentedly.

“Mmmm…Christian.”

We’ve been like this before, it’s not like this is the first time things have ever gotten heated between us, and it’s definitely not the first time she’s moaned, but the way she’s doing it now, my name falling softly, it drives my need for more through the roof.

Every time we’re together, we starting kissing and it’s not long before that one kiss turns into a dozen more, soft to start and deep and passionate the longer it goes, our hands slipping underneath our layers of clothes until it’s skin to skin and our bodies with the friction between us threatening to set us both on fire.