Without a Doubt (24 page)

Emerson studies me with desperate eyes. The way he looked when he thought I'd want to walk away after he truly filled me in on Kelly flashes in my mind. He doesn't want to lose me and I don't want to lose him either. Finally, I nod.

“I'm sorry for doubting us. I needed a little reassurance again, I guess.”

He leans over to kiss me softly. “I get it, no worries. Let's eat before it gets cold.”

Goodness, he's perfect. I love his smile, his laugh, his fake name for his truck, and how thoughtful he is. I'm lucky to have him and for him to deal with my flaws. We begin to eat and I speak the rest of my thoughts out loud. “Whenever I wonder how you can be so perfect, I remind myself that you're a cover hog and the perfect image shatters.”

Emerson laughs so hard, he nearly chokes on a piece of bacon. I pat his back as I giggle. “And here I was simply thinking you're perfect and accepting you as such. Maybe I should tell everyone how we met from now on?”

I shrug like I don't care. “If you tell it enough, the embarrassment will wear off.” I hope so anyway. He chuckles, leaving me wondering if he'll make good on his threat. A loud clap of thunder makes me jump. “Sounds like we're going to get more than rain today.” My plate is empty, so I drop it in the sink before peeking out the window in the living room. Rain is beating against it in a sudden downpour. A streak of lightning has me taking a step back.

When I turn around with a frown on my face, Emerson asks, “What's wrong?”

“Not a fan of storms. Freaks me out, really. You know how in romance movies and books they have couples kissing in the pouring rain? Maybe some rumbling thunder in the background?” He nods. “You couldn't pay me to stand outside if it's thundering and lightning unless I absolutely have to. You might have to venture out to the grocery store by yourself if it doesn't let up.”

Emerson smiles as he walks over to me, taking my hand and pulling me over to the couch. “It's just rain,” he tells me.

“Yeah, rain plus loud noises that can shake the house and bolts of lightning waiting to strike you and kill you. No, thanks.”

He can't hold back his laugh this time. “You're ridiculous.”

I pull away from him with a scowl. “I am not. I blame my grandma. She practically drilled the fear in my head. Don't go near the windows. Don't shower. Don't go outside. It could turn into a tornado. The woman was terrified and passed it on to me. She'd probably have a heart attack if we lived close enough to the ocean to have a hurricane. Once when I was little, I remember spending the night with her. There was a storm and she had me huddled with her on the couch in the corner of the room. I thought I was going to die with how scared she was acting. Maybe that's what traumatized me.”

He pulls me back to him when I jump from the clear crack of lightning that had to be somewhere close by. He slowly kisses my neck, momentarily allowing me to lose myself in his touch. “Want me to distract you?”

I laugh. “Not unless you want me to jolt every time it thunders. How about we talk? What's your favorite animal?”

“Hmm. I've always thought those white tigers were cool.”

“They're beautiful,” I agree. “Would you ever want a pet?”

“Eventually, maybe. My mom would tell me it was good I couldn't have a dog because it was like having a kid. There's so much responsibility that comes with a pet. Feeding, grooming, medical checkups, and if you go on a trip, you have to find someone to take care of him while you're gone. So, maybe after college, I'd think about getting a dog.”

When I start spouting off different kinds of dogs I think will be a good fit for him, he smiles and lets me carry on while he listens.

“Can you play an instrument?” I ask next.

“I played the trumpet in middle school, but decided I didn't want to be in the marching band in high school, so I quit. Can you?”

I shake my head. “I have no concept of beat or rhythm. I doubt I could play well. How come you didn't continue to play baseball in college?”

“I could have, but baseball took up a lot of time in high school and I knew it would be the same or more in college. I wanted to focus on school and have all the free time I wanted. Plus, I've never wanted to play professionally, so that helped make it an easy decision.”

We continue talking and I almost forget about the storm. When things seem to calm down, I dash to the bathroom for a quick shower, ignoring Emerson's laughter. He showers next while I fix us a light lunch. Afterward, the rain is sprinkling, so we decide to go to the grocery store.

Emerson holds my hand while I hold the little basket. We walk to the meat section first. He studies the meats like it's a test and he's looking for a specific answer to a question. Suddenly, like it's never occurred to me before, I realize we're a couple. We're shopping for groceries together. Sure, it's only one meal's worth and maybe some more drinks, but still.

“I feel like we've reached a legit couple status now.”

He glances at me with a raised brow before picking up a pack with two ribeye steaks. “You didn't feel like we were a couple before?”

“No, I did. But look at us.” I lift our joined hands and move them between us and around the store. “We're shopping together.” My revelation is completely lost on Emerson. I can tell by his blank expression. “What do you usually eat with steak?” I ask, deciding to let it go.

“Baked potato, but you're in charge of sides, so whatever you want.”

“No, that sounds perfect.” We pick up two potatoes and anything else he's missing that we'll need. We checkout and get back into the truck. After a quick stop by the campus so I can grab more clothes, we're heading home. I glance over at him as he backs out of our parking space. “Would you ever let me drive Sweet Irene?” I ask curiously.

He looks alarmed and I try to hold back my laughter. He does not want me behind the wheel of his truck. “Why would you want to drive her?”

I'm pleased he doesn't say what he's thinking, which is a clear
no
. “I don't know. What if something was wrong with my car and I needed to go somewhere and you couldn't drive me?”

His lips dip in a frown. “I guess if that was the situation, then I'd let you.”

“So only if you didn't have any other choice?” I'm more amused than annoyed.

“Don't you know what they say about women driving trucks? They can't do it well. Have you ever driven one before?” I shake my head. I've never driven anything bigger than my car. “Between that and the fact that you've already damaged the poor girl, I would be hesitant to let you drive her,” he admits. “Especially without supervision.”

I laugh. “It's not like it's a stick shift. How hard can be it to get used to a bigger size?”

“Hard enough that some women who drive them every day still can't park the damn things.” I roll my eyes at him, but don't say anything else. Who knew Emerson would be the type to be stereotypical when it comes to women and trucks. When he pulls into the apartment complex, he sighs heavily. “If you really wanted to drive Sweet Irene, I would let you, Eva.”

My grin is stupid and huge. He wouldn't want to, but if I asked, he would let me drive his truck. He must really love me. My train of thought comes to a halt as I realize what I thought. Does he love me? Do I love him? “It was only hypothetical,” I tell him, not ready to answer those questions without being half scared and half excited.

He leans over and kisses me softly. “Either way, I'd let you, and judging by the smile on your face, that was a good answer.”

“The best,” I tell him before we get out, grabbing the bags and heading inside.

We work together to put the groceries away. Most of the day wastes away as we watch TV together until it's time for dinner. We haven't done anything special today, yet I feel as if we have. Simply spending time with him is as good as if we had gone out and done something. While we're making dinner, I try to picture a future for us.

Emerson would do most of the cooking, and I'd help clean up. Our bed would always look odd because it would be divided with two comforters, mine on the right and his on the left. I'd disappear on Sundays to give him time with the guys to watch football. Our home would be full of laughter and smiles because it's so easy to make Emerson do those things. He would kiss me in the mornings before he left and in the afternoons when he came home.

We would have a dog, so his life would be a little less tragic. We'd take care of each other. He would never let me go. He would love me with all the parts of himself without a doubt. Life with him would be amazing and so worth any troubles that would come our way.

Wow, I can map out our entire future.

“Eva?”

I snap out of my thoughts at the sound of Emerson's voice. Glancing down at my empty plate, I realize I daydreamed right through our meal. “You say something?” I ask.

“Yeah. I asked how you liked it. Everything okay? You've been quiet.”

“It was delicious, obviously.” I point to my plate and he smiles. “I'm fine,” I add. “Just got lost in my thoughts.” The roaring sound of thunder makes me jump and Emerson tilts his head at me.

“Must have been consuming thoughts. It's been thundering like that since we sat down.”

“Really?”

He nods. The lightning follows soon after and I frown. I really hate storms, but at least I'm with Emerson. The storm sounds worse than this morning. We're putting away our plates when the lights go out. Oh God. His apartment is pitch black. Before I can panic and speak, Emerson's fingers are interlocking with mine.

“I'm sure it'll come back on in a second,” he tells me.

Five seconds go by. No lights. I gulp. “Do you have candles or flashlights?”

If Emerson wasn't holding my hand, I'd think I was speaking to myself for the silence he gives me for a few pounding heartbeats. “I always meant to buy some,” he finally says.

“Damn procrastinator,” I mumble.

“Hold on.” A second later, we have some light. He turned on the flashlight on his cell phone. Emerson leads us to his bedroom, pulling me into bed with him before turning the flashlight off. “Pretend it's night time and we're about to go bed. Problem solved.”

I laugh, turning on my side like I know he is. “That would be easier if I knew I could turn on the lights if I wanted.”

His hand rests on my hip and he presses his forehead against mine. “Are you scared of the dark, Eva?”

“If the lights were on, you'd see me glaring at you.” He chuckles. “Only when there's a storm,” I answer.

His hand slips underneath my t-shirt. My stomach tenses as his knuckles drag against my side and over my stomach. His touch is such a heady sensation. When he presses his mouth to mine, I get lost in him. He tastes a bit like the beer we had with our dinner. I allow Emerson to take control, to draw me in and make me crave him.

It's not until we're naked and he's settled between my legs that it hits me. “Oh my God, you're using sex to distract me,” I blurt out, hearing another rumble of thunder as I think clearly for a moment.

His chuckle makes me smile even though he can't see me. “Is that a problem?” he asks, his lips brushing over mine.

“No,” I breathe.

“Good answer.”

He slides inside me and steals all of my focus. The lights come back on, but I barely notice. I'm starting to think thunderstorms may not be so bad after all. Well, as long as Emerson is with me. If I'm being honest with myself, I want him with me forever and not just through the storms.

THE REST OF the week seems to pass uneventfully. I work, do homework, and spend time with the guys on Sunday. Glen has stayed to help me clean up the empty pizza boxes and beer bottles. We're talking about next week's match up when my phone rings. It's sitting on the kitchen counter and we both can see the number pop up.

To Glen, it's just a random number on the screen, but since I had it memorized, I know it's Kelly calling.

I ignore it and tie up the trash bag.

“You aren't going to get that?” Glen asks.

“Nope.” It beeps, notifying me that she left a voicemail, which I'm going to delete. There's only a small temptation to listen to it. Otherwise, I don't want to know what she has to say. All it's going to do is make me feel guilty knowing it would make Eva upset if I did. Kelly isn't going to be upfront and honest with me anyway. She irritated me for most of our last phone call and all I wanted was to crawl back into bed with Eva. Glen is looking at me with curious eyes and I sigh. “What?”