36 Inches: A MFMM Romantic Comedy

by Alexis Angel

  I can’t imagine ever talking to Ethan that way, and I know he’d never stand for that. Of course, my father cowers back. I know that mom likes being in charge, and I certainly don’t take any shit, but now I’m seeing the differences in myself and my mother now and what it means for belonging to Ethan. I want to belong to him. My mother just plain doesn’t want that. My father has never acted like that far as I’ve ever seen.

  But I don’t have time to put last year’s freshman psychology to use. I lean forward and instinctively Ethan grips me. I bite my lip at the sensation. I crave belonging to Ethan, this is who I am and who I want to be for him. With him. Ethan and I bring out the equal and complementary parts of each other.

  The battering ram coming toward us is the opposite…and she’s my mother who wants me to not date my professor, the friend she romantically rejected. God, this is a mess. Everything I want is going down in flames. Tears well up in my eyes and I try to breathe through it.

  Ethan is struggling to control his temper; I can practically feel heat rising off of him. I step between him and my mother, my hand sliding over his for a second because I have to touch him. It's how I have to show him that I’m his, that I want him to be okay, even in just a small, momentary touch.

  “Move, move right now, Emmaline. You get the hell away from this bastard. I knew he was up to some bullshit. All these years and you figure you’ll just have my daughter since I didn’t want you? You’re crazy. You’re a creep. You need to stay the hell away from Emmaline-“

  “MOM!” I can’t take a single word of this. “Don’t talk about Ethan like that. You don’t know him anymore and I’m not convinced that you ever really did. This isn’t about you. I’m an adult’-“ I cut off my mom but she cuts me off, opening her mouth and making a frustrated sound while stepping closer.

  I press my body against Ethan, backing against him. Ethan grips my upper arms and the waves of adrenaline shooting through my body that make me want to run tell me that there's nowhere to run because where I want to be is in Ethan's arms.

  My mother’s eyes nearly pop out of her head at Ethan's hands around my arms. “He's not some man you can date. You're a child, and this is ridiculous. You have some kind of delusion here, and I love you, baby, but I know that you don’t know what you’re doing right now. You can come home with me, or you can come to the university to me.” She stomps.

  Ethan's hands squeeze my arms tight and then release me. “Emmaline, go home with your mother,” Ethan says. His voice has that calm-before-the-hurricane quality, but this won’t be the prelude to something sensual.

  My eyes well back up and I turn around. “No!” I try to fight back the tears but they’re streaming down my face. I bring my hands up to touch Ethan's face but he captures my wrists before I make contact.

  I can see the pain in Ethan's eyes. “Your mother is right.” The valet pulls up with Ethan's car, and though his eyes are pained, Ethan releases my hands and takes his keys from the valet. “Go home with your parents.”

  “Please, don’t leave me,” I cry out.

  Ethan steps back toward me and wipes off one of my tears, and I watch his hand drop down into a fist, but he goes back to his car.

  I beg Ethan not to leave me, whimpering and crying, but Ethan drives away.

  My father comes toward me, but I push him away and he stays back. My mother walks toward me and grabs my arm but I push her away. “I will not go home with you. No one controls me, I'm a grown woman, not a child!” I storm off and drive back to campus.

  As soon as I’m inside my room, I call Ethan.

  No answer.

  “I thought we were past that,” I say aloud to no one but myself.

  My tears don’t stop flowing until I’m asleep. In my dreams, I’m sure that I am still crying. When I wake up from my fitful sleep, I pull the rose out of my purse and lay it on the pillow next to me. It smells so good, but right now I should be wrapped up in the unique, masculine scent of Ethan enveloping me.

  We were starting something, and now I’m so crushed.

  I understand what my mother was getting at, but she’s the one who doesn’t understand. I know that I’ll forgive her, but it won’t be just because she is my mother. I will absolutely need her to even attempt to understand that she crushed something in me when she callously called me a child and ignored anything I had to say.

  Ethan won’t be forgiven until he erases every hurt he’s caused me. I feel like I’ve been hollowed out, scooped out and left in his mouth when I kissed him. The husk in a crumbled hump on my bed, that’s not Emmaline Travers.

  Ethan

  I can’t bring myself to open a second bottle of wine, even though finishing this first one hasn’t even gotten me buzzed. I don’t want to be numb. I want to feel this, even though this misery is crushing me more than I even knew was possible. I miss Emmaline so damn much it's killing me.

  I can’t let anything stand between me and Emmaline. I know this now. I want her more than I’ve ever wanted anything or anyone in my life. I fucking love her. I know this, and I should've told her. I crave her, I long for her, I think about her constantly, and in my mind I picture a life with the two us, together. Forever. I’m not giving that up.

  I don’t like what that means right now though. I have to go to Joelle. She’s not going to stand in the way of Emmaline and I. I know that there’s a complicated history. That Joelle is Emmaline’s mother and has genuine reasons to want me not to date her daughter.

  But I don’t just want to date Emmaline. I want to marry her. I want to possess her. I want to grow old with her and die by her side. I'm older, and that means I’ll likely die first…and damn if that won’t be a life well lived.

  I grab my keys, knowing I’m sober enough to drive and desperate enough to have Emmaline that nothing is going to stop me.

  When I get to Joelle’s house, Daniel isn’t home. Good. I don’t want to deal with him. Daniel didn’t plan to kill me with his bare hands. That’s honestly a little strange…but he’s always been a much more passive person than me.

  Joelle answers the door in shock when I show up. She looks like she wishes she brought a kitchen knife to stab me. “Come in,” she says instead.

  I follow her inside, sitting on the couch. She sits in her chair. “I’m here to tell you that I’m dating your daughter. I love her,” I tell Joelle. I hate that I’m not telling Emmaline first. Emmaline should be hearing from me and I’ve been avoiding her, trying to drag myself out of my own stupor long enough to fix this situation and bring Emmaline back in my arms, no firing squad included.

  “You have a lot of nerve, showing up here. I knew you were messed up, that you were hung up on me in a bad way, but this is beyond the fucking pale, Ethan, really,” Joelle says, standing up. “Just get out.” She’s angry. I certainly recognize the emotion.

  But for once I’m calm. “You’re caught up in the past. Not me. Emmaline is an adult, and she can make her own choices,” I say, and I turn to leave.

  “If you love her, how can you do this to her? You’re her professor. People will talk. You jeopardize her future if you do this, and I will go to the university,” Joelle says, her voice grating against her mess of emotions.

  Before I leave, I shake my head. “I’m sorry that things are so tense between us. But you’re not getting anywhere going to the university,” I say, and I don’t wait for a response. I’m done here.

  I drive home thinking about how Emmaline must be ready to stab me as much as her mother is. Well, maybe not though. Emmaline is too damn good…I don’t know what I did to deserve her.

  Maybe that’s my penance for being an angry little shit. All these years I never thought I’d found my soul mate. My soul mate hadn’t been born yet when I was already suffering the thought that I’d never meet someone that meant everything to me the way that Emmaline.

  I have to make this right, and I know what to do. I’m never beholden to anything, and I go after what I want. I recognize that ambition i
n Emmaline, too. Joelle was never aggressive in the way that Emmaline can be. But it is the grace that Emmaline always has that wrecks my self-control, my better sense. She’s everything to me. I need her, I want her as mine. I have to have that, at any cost.

  The truth is, as much as I love Emmaline, I do not see any price as high at all.

  In fact, now the path is cleared. I did the right thing and talked to Joelle. I don’t need to worry about that again. I need to worry about getting my woman back because I hurt her. I can’t fucking believe what I let happen; I let my anger keep me from standing up for what is mine. Emmaline is mine. Joelle could say anything she wanted if it was just about me, but Emmaline is proud to be mine and she was miserable that whole time.

  I’ll never forget how she cried when I wouldn’t listen to her pleas and left her. I have never regretting something so much in my life, and I’ll spend forever loving away the memories of those tears. I need to make her know just how much she means to me. Disappearing acts are done for. I want to be in her life, now, forever, always. When I get home, I jump in the shower and wash off the misery that’s going to be behind Emmaline and me so soon.

  Tomorrow, I’ll fix everything. Tomorrow, I’ll do what has to be done and I won’t even be off-campus before I call Emmaline and bring her back to my life.

  Then I’ll do my best to kiss, fuck, claim every inch of her and replace the misery with my longing.

  Tonight, I know I won’t be able to sleep. I may never sleep well again until my woman is tight in my arms. Emmaline’s small little body, warm and pressed against me, is all I need to live.

  Emmaline

  All my dreams had just reached the point where it felt like they were going to come true.

  Now, I’m in a haze. I’m going to class. I’m taking notes. I’m paying attention. But for the first time, I’m having difficulty. I still understand the material, but I’ve never had to work so hard. I'm a quick study and have always put in a lot of effort, but this is a new height (low?) for me and it's disheartening. I know that sounds bitchy and whiny, but my heart is broken. I at least want my school work to keep feeling like a fulfilling accomplishment. Because I’m working hard like I always do, and even with my continued strong performance in my classes…I’m just disheartened.

  I feel like I can feel Ethan's anguish. I certainly don’t know anything because I haven’t seen him since my mother steamrolled through the promises Ethan was making to my heart.

  Delia texts me every day and she tries to get me to do anything other than just go to my classes. I’m not up for it. I lean on her a lot, but I just can’t right now. Because I’m embarrassed. I can’t fucking defend the vast emptiness that is what I thought was going to be an actual start to a relationship. Delia is sweet and understanding but she’s no-nonsense. I text her and tell her I need space. That’s the truth. I can’t solve anything right now, and I don’t want to commiserate. I want to wallow in the void I feel with all the hope of my fantasy lover being my real life prince.

  Ethan. So charming, so perfect for me like something out of a great romance. I desperately want my happy ending with him and I want to know the truth.

  Doesn’t Ethan love me? I don’t mean this in a whiny baby bullshit way. The way that man looks at me, how he touches me, how we so deeply understand each other? That feels like love to me. Just because I was a virgin doesn’t mean I can’t know what that is, right?

  What the fuck do I know?

  I have to hide out from everything because I’m not ready to accept that Ethan might not love me.

  I’m not angry that he didn’t fight for me, when I think about it. After my mother confronting him, I understand him not deciding that brawling it out verbally was going to help. I didn’t know what I was supposed to say then either.

  Ethan and I were just beginning, and now our flame flickered out before we really got to burn together.

  Delia texts me again, asking if I’m talking to my parents.

  Yes, I am. I tell her how I understand why my mother did what she did…but I’m not ready to forgive her.

  Delia starts up again about how I need to try to meet someone new.

  I groan out loud. My roommate has her headphones on and isn’t interested in my heartbreak-induced zombification. I text Delia back how I’m not interested in meeting anyone new.

  I wasn’t even interested in meeting anyone before. Ethan was the unicorn; he was that charming prince in a fairy tale that pulls me out of the dregs of my ordinary life and makes it magical. He was the magic slipper. We were a perfect fit.

  But are we still? I don’t know.

  I sent Delia a lighter toned text, telling her that my grades will be stellar because all I do is study.

  I start to type another text to tell another problematic truth that the new English teacher is boring, but my text is interrupted by a call.

  I’m stunned at the sight of his name taking over my phone and the call goes to voicemail before I can answer. I immediately click on the voicemail, my stomach all twisted in knots over how eager and excited I am. This is the first bit of hope that I’ve had in some time. He called me.

  I listen to the message.

  “Meet me at my house this evening, Emmaline.”

  That’s all the message says. I know he knows my class schedule, probably knows that I will scoot my ass over there as soon as possible. That’s what he wants. I can hear it in his voice. There’s the same kind of aching desperation that’s been devouring me without him.

  I’m all funk, and not in the fun dance sense. I have two hours to make myself the kind of woman that’s getting fucked tonight. I’m not about to be Cinderella showing up in the pumpkin. Christine Daae in Phantom of the Opera had the fancy Victorian bustier to keep her tits center stage and make her whole body say eat me. I’ve got the pushup bra and good contouring makeup to make my cheekbones get my face to that perfect look. I’ll wear a cute little sundress. No thong. I want to feel his skin against me. Speaking of skin, I have a shower power hour ahead to shave everything I’ve let get furred over like I’m planning for winter.

  My eyes are puffy and glassy from crying, but I’m fine with that. If I look like a broken little doll, at least my flawless makeup is going to just make that all the better.

  Fuck, the heat of the shower is torturous and I’m thinking about how badly my hands need to be on Ethan.

  Yeah…this is supposed to be about him earning me back. Check, I’ve got that sass, too. But I just love him so goddamn much that I can barely breathe. I get ready as fast as I can and I head over there as soon as I can. Hopefully this modern little fairy tale will have a happy ending. I tried to look the part.

  Ethan certainly does. I can’t breathe when I see him. He looks so incredibly sexy that I just can’t believe it when I see him again. I don’t think Ethan will ever stop having that affect on me. Every line of his body, the firm muscles, are evident. He’s wearing dark wash jeans and no shirt. This is unholy sexy, and I just want to lick every inch of him. He’s at the door, waiting for me. Like, in front of his door when I arrive.

  The gate code almost tripped me up, thinking about it on the way, but it was open. I appreciate the intensity of how urgently, how desperately Ethan needed me. I know that he feels about me the way that I feel about him.

  “Emmaline,” Ethan growls, and he runs up to the car door, opening it and swooping into my car. There’s not enough room for him to be there, but he’s invading my space deliciously. He drops his head to my lap and kisses my exposed thigh.

  I moan, his mouth on me so dangerously good.

  “I’m so sorry for leaving you at the restaurant. For not having contact with you this whole time. It isn’t appropriate, though, for a teacher and a student to be involved. Your mother was right. But so were you. We understand each other. That’s how I know you know that I let Joelle’s tirade get under my skin. I should have stood up for us.”

  “You shouldn’t have ignored me. I’m not a child. Wha
t I want—what we want, matters,” I say.

  Ethan's eyes look up at me, pleading for forgiveness.

  Forgiveness I'm desperate to give, but I keep myself from reaching out and touching him. “Did my mother go to the university?” I ask, trembling. Partially, I shake because I’m terrified that he lost his job because of me. And partially because his hot breath is ghosting over my pussy and I’m aching for him.

  “No, I resigned,” Ethan says.

  “But you love teaching!” I exclaim. I can’t believe he did this. Which one of us must be having the worst spiral in the fallout of our almost relationship?

  “I love you more,” Ethan growls, his hand reaching under my dress and cupping my ass. “Dear God, no thong? You’re trying to kill me. If so, I need to die with your pussy cumming on my face. I’m not going to lose you, but I could go that way.”

  “Y-your job,” I whimper. He said those words. Ethan loves me. Ethan doesn’t want to lose me. Ethan is touching my bare ass and I’m so dripping wet for him.

  “I don’t need the money,” Ethan says with a smug laugh.

  I lift my hands from my sides, pressing my palms flat against the planes of Ethan's chest. Feeling his firm pectorals grounds everything in reality. This is really happening. I might cry. “I love you so much, Ethan. I need you more than I need to breathe.”

  “Emmaline, I need you,” Ethan says, growling against my inner thigh.

  “I want to belong to you, Ethan. I need to. You’re where I’m home,” I say. I have to tell him my truth.

  He lifts his head up and reaches into his pocket. “I can’t tell you just how much I needed to hear those words. Because I have something to ask you.” Ethan pulls out a ring box, and then opens it and gets down on one knee before my car. “Will you marry me?” he asks.

  “Yes!” I cry out, my lips trembling. “Yes, I will marry you, Ethan.”

  “Be mine forever,” Ethan says, and he slides the intricate diamond ring onto my finger.