“I need to feed her,” I remark.
Surrounding me more with his arms, Joe pleas, “Five more minutes.”
‘No,” I object.
“Yes,” he coaxes.
“Nooo,” I repeat, turning to face him again since I’m now sandwiched between him and Sadie.
Kissing my nose and tugging me in, Joe restates, “Yes.”
I let out an exasperated sigh which is met with laughter. “Fine,” I cave.
We lay with our faces within inches of each others. Time moves exhaustingly slow, not because I’m not enjoying myself, but because of the surmounting need to pee. My left foot twitches, hoping to distract me from the increasing pressure in my belly.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“I know you’re lying,” he accuses.
“It’s nothing really,” I deflect.
“We can stop if you want. I just thought you were enjoying it from . . . .”
“No. I mean . . . umm . . . I just really need to pee,” I admit foolishly.
His face relaxes, “Go pee.”
“I can wait.”
No, I can’t, but I don’t want him to know that.
He slides away from me lifting the covers. “Go.”
Closing the bathroom door, I remove my menstrual cup and find that it’s clean. Has it been six days already? After rinsing it, I double check my calendar in my toiletry bag. I’m ecstatic to know I don’t have to wear the cup today during trampolining. After relieving myself, I put a panty liner on just in case.
Leaving the bathroom, I’m surprisingly disappointed when I don’t see Joe in the bed with Sadie. The sound of a door sliding opening startles me for a second. Joe comes out of his closet and has changed. He deliberately brushes past me on his way to the restroom. I quickly shimmy out of my tank and put on a sports bra. Sliding into my running capris, I scurry to find a shirt before Joe exits the bathroom. Just as I yank a shirt out of the bag, Joe saunters over and stands, observing me. Once my top is on, he scoops me up and carries me back to the bed.
“Four minutes,” he says.
All I can do is nod in agreement.
His body and smell are becoming more familiar now. I notice that his breath is steady, but I can feel his heart rapidly pounding through his chest.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, why?” he says with a shaky tone.
“Your heart his really pounding,” I report.
“I’m good,” he insists, drawing me in closer and moaning into my neck.
Sadie makes her way to our faces, determined and persistent to let us know she can’t wait any longer. Joe finally lets go of me when he can no longer compete with Sadie’s insistent playfulness.
We leave Joe’s room and find Anna in the kitchen already preparing a bowl for Sadie.
“Good morning, Anna,” I offer, without questioning her actions.
I’m suddenly acutely aware of her amazing attention to detail. Anna has the exact proportions of food in the bowl for Sadie.
“Good morning, Ms. Emma.” She slides the bowl over to me. “Mr. Joseph,” Anna says suggestively.
I snicker at her words.
“Why are you working on a Sunday, Anna?” I inquire after signaling Sadie to eat.
“I like my job,” Anna returns, as if it is a rehearsed statement. After I give her a quizzical look, she adds, “And Mr. Joseph and Mr. Jimmy need me.”
“They’re big boys. I’m sure they can take care of themselves for one day.”
A chuckle sneaks out of her throat. She recovers quickly by coughing and then replies, “I’d like to get a leg up on this week's chores before Hawaii. I have a lot to do before I have to pack them and myself.”
Taking the glass of clay water Joe prepared for me, I verify her words, “She’s packing for you?”
Joe shrugs finishing his last two gulps of his own clay drink.
Muting a laugh, I say to Ann, “I hope they pay you really well.”
“Oh yes. The Covelli family takes very good care of me,” Anna delightfully insists.
“Good. I’m glad to hear it.” After chugging my clay, I investigate again. “So, you’re joining us in Hawaii?”
“Yes, Ms. Emma.”
“Anna loves Hawaii. Besides, she won’t really be working,” Joe adds.
“Hawaii is one of my favorite places,” Anna comments with a childlike smile.
Shaking my head in disbelief and amazement to Joe’s statement, I get to Sadie’s empty bowl before Anna this time. My line of questioning threw her off just enough. I’ll have to remember this in the future. What am I say? There will be none of this happening in the future.
After taking Sadie out for a good long walk, Joe and I have a smoothie. He insists on making it to prove that he knows how to use the blender and that he actually made the one we drank yesterday. He does pretty good, I have to say.
I purposefully keep my physical distance from Joe since we officially left the bedroom. Snooping a little in the living room, I check out more of the photos and the titles of the variety of books lining his bookshelf. I’ll need to figure out how to sneak into his office to explore the wall of books that reside in there.
It’s not long before Joe’s close behind me. “What are you looking for?” he requests.
“Nothing,” I reply putting a book back.
Enclosing my waist with his arms, he moans into my ear, “Liar.”
Tempted, I resist my urges and slip away. “Do you play?”
With a devious grin, Joe answers, “I love to play.” He takes a giant step towards me, drawing me into him.
“That,” I turn and point.
His eyes reluctantly follow mine to the piano. He growls into my neck like a lion stalking its prey. Pressing his lips to my earlobe, “Yes. Since I was five.”
“Will you play for me?”
“Now?”
I bite my lip and nod.
“I’ll wake everyone.”
“So,” I giggle.
“So . . . I’d rather stay right here.” Joe takes a few steps forward as I take a few steps back until my body is against a window.
“Just friends,” I mumble into his ear.
Ignoring me, he slides his mouth along my jaw. “Just one,” he pleas.
“No,” I whimper.
We both know that my body is saying yes and I’m desperately fighting to keep control over myself.
“I want to hear you play. Will you?”
“When you let me kiss you right here,” Joe announces in a devilish tone as he lightly grazes my lips with his finger.
“That’s not fair,” I scold.
“You’re not the only one who can have rules,” he baits.
“So that’s how you want to do this?” I declare.
“You started it, beautiful,” he shares.
Observing his expression, I try to determine what I want to say or do. I’m enjoying our game, but not when he pushes for another kiss — because, I foolishly want one. Knowing what a second kiss will do to me, I’ve got to be careful. I choose my safety net and peel away from his embrace and head to Jared’s and Nathan’s room.
Listening to make sure I don’t walk in on anything, I press my ear to the door. My eyes catch Joe leaning against a wall about fifteen feet away, watching what I’m doing. Turning the knob, I give Joe a wicked grin and enter the bedroom, closing the door behind me. Safe at last. God job, Emma.
Jared wakes before I turn around. “Everything okay, Kitten?”
“Yeah. I just miss you,” I say, buttering him up as I slip under the covers.
“Sleep okay?” He wraps his arms around me.
“Great,” I say, nuzzling into his chest.
As much as I fear relationships, especially the intimacy of relationships, my body craves physical contact. I’m a tactile kind of girl who loves stimulation. When I cuddle with Jared, I feel safe and secure. There are no other expectation or obligations. There are no chances or po
ssibilities that could arise. No secrecy, no hidden desires. Just the feeling of being safe; the feeling of being home.
Breaking my moment of bliss, Jared mentions, “You smell different.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know, you just smell different,” he repeats.
“Good different or bad different?” I search.
“Just different.”
“It’s probably from being in Joe’s bed,” I suggest.
The realization sets in. I don’t smell like Joe’s bed, I smell like Joe.
“That’s it,” he verifies.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I accuse.
“Tell you what?” he returns, clueless of my statement.
“About where Joe lives?”
“I didn’t know until he texted me Friday. I thought you knew,” Jared answers.
“Do you think I would have packed to stay the night if I did?” I press.
“Good point,” he concurs. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I excuse.
I’m not mad at Jared, only surprised by the fact that Joe lives less than a mile away from me.
“It shouldn’t matter. He’s a friend,” he adds.
“Yeah,” I acknowledge.
I don’t really agree, but I don’t want to give away that it does bother me.
We snuggle for a long time and at some point I start crying — I haven’t cried in a while. I’ve missed him, I miss my Jared. We see each other every week, but I miss waking up and going to bed with him every day. I miss our old apartment. I miss — my parents. I remember what they look like because I have photos in my bedroom. What I really miss are their voices — their smell most of all. My heart breaks knowing that I can’t remember that about them. Jared is the only smell and sound left that I have that gives me the feeling of home.
“What’s wrong, Kitten?” Jared whispers.
“Nothing,” I weep.
“Tell me,” he encourages. “I can’t help if you don’t tell me.”
“I don’t remember what they sound like or how they smell. I’ve lost so many memories with them,” I sob.
“What do you remember?” he prompts.
“You. Your eyes when we met. Your voice. Your smell. You’re home,” I say.
“And I always will be,” he assures, squeezing me tighter. “But, you will need to find your own home with someone else. Like I have with Nathan.”
His words hurt.
“So it is serious,” I state.
“Yeah,” he agrees. “I will never leave you. You’re home to me too, but Nathan is also home now too.”
“There’s too much changing. I don’t like it,” I confess.
“Change isn’t good or bad. It just depends on how you look at it.”
“When did you get so philosophical?” I tease.
“Not long after I met you,” he pokes.
I jab him in his ribs.
“Shhh. Quit talking. I need my beauty sleep,” Nathan whines.
Jared and I both fling our bodies, dog-piling Nathan until he surrenders.
By nine, everyone is up and in the dining room having breakfast. We’re out the door and piled into Maggie’s and Jared’s Teslas twenty minutes before our scheduled jump time. A newer trampoline facility just opened up over in Glendale off of Colorado Boulevard, so we don’t have far to drive.
Jimmy and Allen groan the entire drive home and during lunch. After bellies are full from another tasty meal prepared by Anna, everyone seeks out a nap in their designated rooms. Used to the rigorous workout and being well rested, I elect to grab a book and read on the couch. Sadie snuggles up in her usual position with her head on my belly.
A few more pages into reading my book and Joe comes into the living room. He positions himself down the center of the couch resting his shoulders against the same pillow as me. During the next two hours, Joe purposefully bumps into my right arm with his left as he turns a page or changes how he holds his book. He is dying for some attention and I deliberately refuse to give it — specifically to torture him. Clearly frustrated by my lack of response, Joe eventually shifts, laying next to me. I can’t help but laugh at his antics.
“What’s so funny?” he questions.
“Just something in my book,” I fib.
Not much time passes before Joe tries another tactic to gain my attention.
“Am I distracting you?” he asks as he slides his fingers under the edge of my shirt and draws circles on my belly.
“Are you trying to distract me?” I ask, keeping my eyes on my book. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see him grinning.
“Maybe,” Joe replies.
His response intrigues me, so I look at him.
Happy that he gets my attention, Joe changes his answer, “Yes. Is it working?”
I return my gaze to my book before remarking, “Yes.”
“Good,” Joe whispers, continuing to keep my focus off my book. He nuzzles into my shoulder and wraps his arm tighter around my waist.
“I thought we agreed to just be friends?” I remind.
“I didn’t agree to anything,” he defends, placing his lips on the edge of my neck. “You were the one who said just friends.”
My sex salivates at the touch of his lips to my skin. My neck is my weakness — my Achille’s Heel. Pull yourself together, Emma. No need for Joe to know how to get to you.
As I am about to respond to his statement, noise rises in the hallway. Joe immediately moves back to his previous spot on the couch and encourages Sadie to join him. Before I can see who is coming, Jimmy and Allen plop down on the other end of the couch. As tired as they are, their overworked muscles are probably making it hard for them to sleep.
With nothing else planned for the day, and with only four more days until our trip, those of us who do not live in this glorious penthouse elect to end the weekend early. Maggie and Henry offer first to take me home, but I politely refuse. I have about a half mile walk until I’m home. Maggie contends with my rebuttal saying I have bags to carry, but I tell her that I’ll be fine and Sadie and I could use the walk. Joe announces that he will walk me home. I object, but everyone insists.
After saying farewell to Jimmy and Allen, who have trouble getting up from the couch, the rest of us leave. Before walking to my place, Joe and I bid farewell to Maggie and Henry and then Jared and Nathan as they depart from the valet area. At a relaxed pace, Joe and I take our time to my apartment. Once at the gate for my building, Joe insists on helping with the bags all the way up to the door. Not wanting to cause a scene, I agree. I try to take the bags from him when I stop in front of my door, but he won’t give them to me.
“I’ll carry them in,” he states. “What’s the big deal?”
“I like my privacy,” I reply. “I don’t have guys back to my apartment. You’ve gotten the farthest with just even knowing where I live.”
“You’ve never had a guy in your place?” Joe sounds shocked. “What about Jared and Nathan?”
“They don’t count,” I argue.
“Why don’t they . . . ohh.” He makes the connection and a wicked grin spreads across his whole face. “You’ve never had a guy in your place.”
“Yes,” I nervously confirm, looking away.
“Would you make an exception for me?”
“It’s one of my rules,” I verify.
“Ah . . . then why don’t you take these and Sadie inside and come back to say goodbye?”
“Why can’t I say farewell now?”
He stands looking at me with his arms crossed. The look on his face confirms my speculation. He’s not going to leave unless I agree.
“Fine,” I sourly confirm.
He bends down and pets Sadie while I unlock the door.
I don’t bother turning on a light since my apartment is fairly well lit from the late afternoon sunlight streaming in through the large windows. Five steps into my home and the sound of the light switch startles me. Dropping my bags, I turn
sharply to find Joe perched in the door frame. Scared that he might try to come all the way in, I rush back over to him.
“You know, I just realized that it’s almost dinner time,” he states, pulling me into him.
“So?” I question, wondering where he’s going with this?
“So, I was thinking we should have dinner.”
Pulling away from his embrace, I place my hands on my hips before commenting, “We should.” He takes a step in and I immediately block him with my body, “What are you doing?”
“I figured that was your way of inviting me in for dinner.” Joe’s eyes sparkle and the smile on his face makes it a little hard to object.
Clearly he missed my implication and I need to stand my ground. “No. I wasn’t inviting you in. First of all, I have my rules. Second, what I meant was that I agree we both should have dinner, but I didn’t agree that we should have it now or together.”
Playing along he continues, “Fine, then you, Sadie and I will go out for dinner.”
“No. Sadie and I will eat here. You can eat wherever you want.”
“Well, beautiful, I choose to eat here.”
“No. My place is not an option,” I contend.
“You said I can eat wherever I want. So, I choose here,” he goads with a smile.
A battle of wills ensues as we stare each other down for who knows how long.
Sternly I advise, “My place is not an option.”
He takes a step closer, causing our noses to barely touch. “Okay, then we’ll go out to eat.”
“No.”
With his hands on my body, Joe presses his lips to my right ear and commands, “Either we go out or we’re breaking rules. You choose, beautiful.”
I’m not fond of either of my two choices. Breaking any of my rules is not an option, no matter how horny I am. Fear of playing this game a second time today is also not appealing. What is a girl to do? I guess I need to choose the lesser of the two options.
Surrendering I agree, “Fine.”
A victory smile emerges on Joe’s face. His hands push firmly on my hips forcing me to take a step backward.
“What are you doing?” I question.
“We’re eating here, right?”
Shoving him hard enough, I get him to take two steps back. “No. We’re going out. Stay right here. If you move from the door, the deal is off.” Before I turn, his expression softens, almost saddened by my choice, but he quietly agrees.
Just Breathe Series (Trilogy Box Set) Page 27
