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Just a Boyfriend

Page 23

by Wilson, Sariah


  “Maybe on the outside, but on the inside my brain is just saying ‘wow’ over and over again. Also, that dress deserves whatever happy memories it wants.”

  She laughed and leaned up to kiss me. “Thank you.” She used her fingers to wipe away her lipstick from my mouth. “And thank you for fulfilling my prom fantasy.”

  “Fantasy?” At that my mouth went dry, and my chest suddenly felt too tight.

  “You know, how in the movies the girl comes downstairs for the big dance, and her boyfriend is standing there waiting for her all in love and excited, and you even have the corsage!” I handed it to her, my brain still drooling and therefore unable to think to open the box and put the flowers on her wrist myself.

  “I didn’t pick out the corsage. Doug got one for each of you.”

  “But you’re the one giving it to me.” It was a white orchid with some greenery on it. Ember’s smile was dazzling.

  Then I thought about something she’d just said. “Boyfriend, huh?”

  Her eyes got big. “Oh. Is that okay? We haven’t really discussed it.”

  I drew her close, my hands at her waist. The material was so soft. Velvet. “E, I’ve been your boyfriend since the first moment I spoke to you.”

  Then I kissed her much more fiercely than I’d initially intended to, ignoring the fact that my entire body screamed at me to carry her upstairs and blow off this entire evening.

  “We should go,” I said regretfully, kissing her one last time.

  I helped her put her coat on, and then we ran out to her car. I volunteered to drive and helped her into the passenger side, making sure that all of her skirt was inside of the car. She looked like an adorable burgundy cloud.

  When we were almost at the country club, I asked, “How long do we have to stay at this thing?”

  “We have to do the waltz competition and make sure my mom sees us once or twice, and then we are out of there.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” I gave the keys to the valet out front and offered Ember my arm so that she wouldn’t slip on the slightly icy walkway.

  We left our coats in a closet up front, and she spotted a table that had a sign saying the waltz competitors needed to sign in. We headed over, and a middle-aged man with a comb-over and paunch belly greeted us.

  “Names?”

  “Ian Sebastian and Ember Carlson.”

  He ran his finger down a list until he found our names. “Ember, huh? That’s an interesting name. Like a fire?”

  I did not like the way he was looking at her, and I was trying to figure out whether his comment was harmless or if I should lean across this table, grab him by his shirtfront, and toss him out into the cold.

  “Yes, like a fire,” Ember said, taking the number the man offered her. He told us the competition would begin in half an hour and to make sure our number was visible on my back while we danced.

  “You’ve got some real competition tonight,” he said, still directing all of his attention to my girlfriend. I couldn’t mistake it this time, he was definitely leering at her.

  Did he not know how close he was to getting a broken nose?

  Ember tugged on my arm, pulling me away from committing assault and battery, and we walked into the ballroom. There were only a handful of people already there, and it felt a little like a prom as far as the decorations went. Round tables with pink tablecloths, pink and silver balloons dotted around the room. There were also some potted trees with pink lights.

  “Turn around,” Ember told me. She peeled tabs off the paper and then put our official number on my back.

  “Like a fire, huh?” I asked her.

  “Aw, Bash. Are you jealous of the slightly creepy old man?” Her hand flitted across mine, like she was going to hold it but then changed her mind.

  I loved it when she teased me. I wanted so badly to grab her and kiss her but had to refrain because there were eyes everywhere.

  “I’m not jealous. I just like that I’m the only one who knows just how hot you burn.”

  She caught her breath and bit her lower lip, and it was nearly my undoing. Before I could do something really stupid, I heard Tricia’s voice just behind me.

  “Ember! Ian! I’m so glad you’re both here.” She hugged Ember hello.

  Lauren sidled up to me and whispered, “That’s a pretty shade on you.”

  It took me a second to realize what she was talking about, and then I tried to unobtrusively wipe my mouth. I wondered if anyone else had noticed.

  Somebody came to grab Tricia, needing her input, and Marley wanted to show Lauren the chocolate fountain, leaving us alone.

  “Does Lauren know?” I asked Ember.

  “She thinks she knows everything, but no, she doesn’t know about us. She’s just hopeful, and it’s annoying. I would cut open my own stomach to give her my kidney if she needed it, but sometimes I kind of want to strangle her.”

  “Perils of being the older sibling,” I said.

  “You can relate?”

  “No, Marley’s the perfect kid sister.”

  Ember nudged me with her elbow while I laughed. Then Tricia returned with my dad in tow, and she wanted to introduce both of us to the people she had volunteered with. It was difficult to pay attention when Ember would move, causing her hair to slide across her bare shoulders, or the way her chest would rise and fall just a bit faster each time she caught me admiring her. Which was often.

  I couldn’t wait to get her alone.

  More people entered the ballroom as the quartet of musicians began warming up. After I said hello to dozens of people whose names I promptly forgot, a woman stepped up to the microphone. She welcomed everyone to the event and then told us it was time for the waltzing competition to begin.

  “Shall we?” I asked Ember, and when she nodded, I took her by the hand and led her out onto the dance floor. The music began, an instrumental version of the song Ember and I had practiced to.

  I didn’t know if it was because we’d decided to be together, to take down those walls we’d built to keep the other one out, but we danced so differently now. We moved together easily, anticipating one another’s steps. She followed where I led, and we danced as if we’d been doing it for years.

  But we were not professionals, like many of our competitors who were doing elaborate routines and turns.

  Nobody else mattered. The competition didn’t matter. Just being able to dance, her skirts sliding across my legs, my palm flattened against her waist, her hand in mine. We danced closer than we should have. We had to keep our relationship a secret, but here, in this moment, we belonged to each other. Everybody and everything else faded away.

  The song ended, and the judges announced their runners-up and the first-place winners. When we walked off the dance floor, I had to remind myself to let go of her hand when Tricia and Dad arrived to console us.

  “You two should have won! I was so proud of you!” Tricia said, and I noticed how Ember lit up at her mother’s words.

  I overheard Lauren say to Ember, “You know, dancing is a gateway drug to kissing.”

  “It is not.”

  “Is too. Especially the way you guys were doing it.”

  Then we were joined by two older couples who wanted to congratulate us for dancing so well, and they expressed how sweet they thought it was that such a young couple had competed. I didn’t follow their conversation. I was counting down the seconds until I could steal Ember away from here.

  Her eyes met mine, and I saw her hunger. She was biding her time, too, smiling when she didn’t mean it, her intense gaze returning to me again and again, almost like she was touching me. My heart raced in anticipation.

  Not much longer now.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  BASH

  We successfully snuck out of the ball and went back to the house. As soon as we got inside, Ember kicked off her heels, and I loosened my tie, collapsing onto the couch. It had been surprisingly stressful staying away from her, pretending that we were j
ust friends and nothing more. I needed to touch her again.

  I held out my hand, and she put her hand into mine, curling up next to me on the couch. She rested her head on my shoulder.

  “Well. Here we are. In an empty house,” I said. “Whatever shall we do?”

  “We could . . . mop the kitchen?” she offered.

  I laughed and pulled her into my lap so that I could kiss her. “No, thanks.”

  She ran her fingers through my hair, sending waves of pleasure down my neck. “Hmm. We could retile the bathroom floor. Or organize the garage.”

  “That was not what I had in mind.”

  She crossed her arms and gave me a very serious look. “If you don’t want to do chores, I guess I’ll have to come up with something else to do. Because my mom did say it was especially my job to make you feel welcome here.”

  I ran my hands along her hips so that they came to rest on her back. “I’m not feeling all that welcome.”

  Ember leaned forward and kissed me softly, once, twice, three times before pulling away. “Are you feeling it now?”

  “Not yet.”

  With a smile, she leaned in to kiss me again. Her lips moved softly and slowly, like she was memorizing what my mouth felt like against hers. Sweet, with a hint of something more just behind it. She moved her mouth back a fraction, hovering just above mine, tantalizingly out of reach. “And now?”

  “Maybe a little bit more welcome.”

  She reached up to run the tips of her fingers along my lips, outlining them lightly. My entire body tightened in response. I lightly bit her index finger and then soothed it with my lips. Then she pressed whisper-soft kisses on my face, on my eyelids, along my cheeks, on my nose, following my jawline. She would move close to my mouth and then immediately move away before I could capture her in a kiss.

  Her teasing had my heart throbbing so hard I could feel it in my earlobes.

  She kissed my throat, nipping and soothing my skin, just like I’d done with her finger. “What about now?” she asked, the words murmured into my neck.

  “Getting warmer.” My words were husky, deepened by the harsh undertone of my breathing. What was it about this woman that made me want to completely lose control? To run headfirst into an all-consuming fire?

  Ember pulled back, studying me with slightly enlarged pupils, making her eyes look like dark flames. She scooted closer, sending waves of longing and agony through me. She reached up and finished loosening my tie, sliding it slowly off my neck. She undid the top button of my shirt, kissing the skin she’d just exposed. She moved to the next button, and then the next, untucking the bottom of the shirt from my pants so that she could finish. Once she had my shirt open, she smiled and said, “That’s better,” as she ran her fingers down my chest, causing each muscle to contract as she came into contact with it.

  I probably should have felt objectified, but I was down for it. The velvet of her dress felt amazing against my skin as she pressed into me, ready to finally kiss me.

  No more tentativeness, no more softness. This kiss was what I’d been waiting for the entire day. Pure, unadulterated passion. Like throwing a lit match into a pool of gasoline—from one tiny ember to a blazing inferno. Instant ignition.

  I groaned low in my throat when she deepened the kiss, every cell in my body vibrating with excitement and desire. I kept one hand on her upper back, feeling the way her skin burned beneath my touch, and the other I moved up to her face, then into her hair just so that I could hear her make those breathy, panting noises I loved when I caressed her scalp. She obliged me, and the sound sent blood rushing hot and fast through my veins.

  “What about now?” she asked, her warm and sweet breath blowing across my face.

  “I definitely feel welcome,” I told her. She made me feel like I’d come home, and I was where I belonged. With her.

  Then she was kissing me again, leading me to a point where I thought my body might shatter from the tension she created, my stomach quivering with how much I loved and wanted her.

  I pulled her face away, waiting for her glassy eyes to focus. I loved that I could make her feel that way. Caught up, lost in pleasure, letting everything else fall away.

  But I didn’t know what she’d think about what I wanted to do next. “The last time we were here, together, kissing in this house . . .”

  She looked so adorably confused it was all I could do not to immediately kiss her again. “What about it?”

  “I was thinking we should go upstairs to your room to replace that memory with something better.”

  “I . . .” She let her words trail off, and I held my breath. I’d respect whatever she decided, but I was heavily rooting for her to choose going upstairs.

  “Slow is a four-letter word, as far as I’m concerned,” I told her teasingly. “But it’s your choice, and I’ll follow your lead. I don’t want to pressure you, and I’ll always respect whatever choice you make. I’m just sharing how I feel about it. Personally, I’d like to convince you that slow really is a bad word.”

  “You probably could,” she agreed.

  Then time slowed as I looked at her, really looked at her. She was so beautiful. Her hair was messy, her lips slightly swollen, her cheeks flushed, her eyes soft and loving. How had I gotten so incredibly lucky?

  “What?” she asked self-consciously.

  “I just . . . you’re so off-the-charts beautiful that I want to remember this moment forever. I’m burning an image of you into my mind.”

  “I’m in love with you, Bash,” she breathed, making the entire image all the sweeter.

  “I’m so hopelessly in love with you.” Not able to stand not kissing her for a second longer, I pulled her lips down to mine, and she made a sound that was a mixture of thankfulness and relief. Had she always tasted this sweet? How had I ever walked away from this? From the explosive chemistry between us that threatened to burn down the house around us?

  The entire world shrank down to this moment, to the sense of weightlessness, of rampaging fire, of Ember’s curves and softness pressed against me.

  I was about to ask her again about going upstairs when I became aware of a noise near the front door. It sounded like Roscoe.

  “This is the greatest thing that has ever happened to me.”

  Lauren. I turned my head toward the sound, unable to process what had just happened.

  Only it wasn’t just Lauren. It was everyone. Tricia, Dad, and Marley all stood there, their mouths open, eyes wide.

  Ember recovered first, getting to her feet. I pulled the sides of my shirt closed and crossed my arms. Ember pressed the back of her hand to her mouth, and I didn’t know if that was out of fear or to stop herself from saying something.

  “What is going on?” Tricia finally asked.

  Silence filled the void left by her words until Lauren said, not helpfully, “I think everyone knows what was going on and what we almost interrupted.”

  This was not how I wanted this to happen.

  Tricia spoke again, the disapproval dripping from her every word. “I am so . . . shocked. Horrified. How did this happen? How long has it been going on for?”

  Ember shook her head, and she ran out of the room, going to the front door.

  Cursing, I chased after her, ignoring my dad calling my name. “Ember!” I yelled, catching up to her before she could get in her car. I put my hands on her shoulders. “Stay. Let’s talk this out. We can explain.”

  Tears were pouring down her face. “You heard her. I can’t do this.”

  “Yes, you can.” Frustration boiled up inside of me, and then seemed to just spill out. “You don’t have to sacrifice your life and the things you want just to make your mom happy. Why can’t you stand up to her?”

  From her expression I expected her to deny my statement. Then her shoulders collapsed inward, and she hung her head. “I don’t know.”

  “Don’t run away.” The irony of me being the one telling her to stay was not lost on me. I was the las
t person on earth who should be telling her not to run.

  “I can’t.” She got in her car, and I stood there, just watching her go. I glanced up to see everybody else either on the porch or just inside the house. I buttoned up my shirt and walked back to face them.

  No more. I was done hiding; I was done worrying about everybody else’s feelings and sacrificing the woman I loved.

  “I’m in love with Ember,” I told them. Tricia stared at me, shocked, and then whirled around to run upstairs.

  Marley rushed out to me, throwing her arms around me. “If you two love each other, then I think you should be together.”

  Lauren gave me two thumbs up. “You know I’m on board.”

  “Son, let’s you and I have a conversation. I have the feeling it’s long overdue,” my dad said. I followed him out to the garage, where we’d had most of our serious conversations growing up. Usually while our hands were busy working on his truck. Today was no different. Despite the fact that he was still in a suit, my father started reorganizing his tools on the pegboard, taking them down one at a time and then moving them to a new spot.

  “If you’re waiting for an apology, Dad, you’re not going to get one. I don’t regret anything that’s happened between us. I love her. I loved her before you ever even met Tricia. We dated in high school, and were serious about each other.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me then?” he asked as he cleaned a nut splitter. The rough edge to his voice was the only thing that betrayed how he was actually feeling. He sounded hurt, which made me feel horribly guilty, my stomach twisting and turning in response to his tone.

  “What would your advice have been back then? If I’d told you, ‘Dad, the girl I’m in love with is moving into our house and is going to be sleeping down the hall from me, but don’t worry about it, everything will be fine,’ you would have told me the same thing. You still would have warned me to stay away from her, wouldn’t you?”

  He hung the nut splitter onto its new place on the board. “I suspected something was there, but I didn’t know that you were in love with her. You were teenagers. I thought it was a physical thing that would pass.”

 

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