by J. L. Beck
“Let’s go,” I say, opening my door to get out of the car. She crawls off my lap and steps out onto the driveway, and I follow behind her, adjusting myself as I do.
Taking her hand into mine, I lead her to the front door. Once there, I dig the key out of my pocket and unlock the door. It swings open into a large living room area with an attached kitchen and dining room. Everything is in a modern but comfortable style with gray and white colors. All but the red couch that stands out like an eyesore.
“Oh, wow. This is beautiful,” she gasps, taking in the condo. The whole place is fully furnished and decorated, which was one of the reasons why I chose it. I show her the master bedroom first, and though I know I can let go of her hand now, that there is no threat in sight, I continue holding it. Enjoying the feel of her small hand in mine.
Oh, the fun Vance would have with this if he saw me right now.
“This will be your room. There is a large bathroom attached to it, with a big garden tub.” She takes in the light gray and yellow accented bedroom. The duvets are a pretty paisley pattern that suits her perfectly.
“My room is across the hall, and just like in the other house, you’re free to come into it whenever you would like.”
“Why?” She turns to face me, her face a mask of fear, of sadness…what does she mean why? As if she can sense my confusion, she starts to speak again, “Why do this for me? You don’t know me, you don’t know anything and yet you’re, you’re making choices like this and helping me, and it makes no sense, Clark, none at all. Are you…”
She pulls away and my heart skids to a stop. She’s looking at me like I’m going to hurt her again and I can’t stomach it. That look… it eats at me.
My jaw tightens and I will myself to calm down. I’m close to saying something… and then she opens her mouth and says, “Are you trying to get something from me? Is this some kind of game? Did my father put you up to this? I… I won’t have sex with you, Clark. I’m not like that.” I take a step back feeling as if she’s slapped me in the face.
That’s what she thinks? She thinks that I’m trying to fuck her, that I’m being nice to her so I can get in her pants? I could be a cruel asshole right now and tell her I wouldn’t have to try this hard for pussy, but I won’t. I couldn’t say something that assholish, to her and be able to look at myself the next day. Still, I need to make sure she knows that it’s not like this.
“You have no idea how ironic this whole situation is,” I tell her, unable to hide my grin.
Crossing her arms over her chest, she eyes me warily. “Is this funny to you?”
“No, not at all. It’s just that it’s the opposite of what you’re thinking. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, or maybe you would… but you’re literally the first girl I’ve ever come into contact with that I haven’t tried to have sex with.”
Her face falls and I realize that, that probably wasn’t the best thing to say either.
Well, shit. What is the right thing to say here? I’m so far out of my element here, I might as well be in outer space.
“Okay, maybe that came out wrong.” Even though it’s true. “This isn’t a game for me. I’m not trying to get laid or to get you to have sex with me or do anything else that you don’t want. All I want is to help you… that’s it.”
“But why?” she asks, her tone curious. For a moment, I think about lying to her, or at least not telling her the whole truth. I’ve never told anyone how I really feel, what I really think about how my mom died. But as I look deep into Emerson’s big blue eyes, I’m reminded of the enormous amount of trust she has placed in me. How can I not return that trust? I need to tell her the truth, even if it hurts like hell talking about it.
“My mom died when I was twelve,” I start explaining. “She was dealing with anxiety and depression. She was suffering quietly and alone, until one day she wasn’t anymore. She killed herself.”
Emerson unfolds her arms and lets them fall back down to her sides, a deep frown forming on her pink lips, well her eyes mist with remorse, “I’m sorry, Clark.”
“I couldn't help her, but I think I can help you. If you let me,” I offer. “I’m not asking for anything in return from you.”
And I’m not. I wouldn’t. This isn’t about sex, or even doing as my father asked me to. This is about me wanting to help someone that needs it, deserves it.
“I’m scared, Clark,” she whispers, the sound almost inaudible.
“You don’t have to be scared of me, not ever,” I assure her, my hand clenching into a tight fist to stop myself from reaching out to her.
“It’s not that. I’m not scared of you. I’m scared of needing you…and then losing you.”
She barely gets the words past her lips before I’m grabbing her and pulling her into my chest. I throw my arms around her, holding her to me tightly and this time she doesn’t even flinch. Her small arms snake around my waist hugging me back. Tethering us together.
“You won’t lose me. I promise,” I say the words without thought. I’m not sure what the future holds but I’ll do everything in my power to be there for her, not only in memory of my mother but because I want to be because I need to be.
“This is crazy, we hardly know each other. How can you promise me that you will always be there?”
I shrug. “I just know. I don’t know how, I can’t even begin to explain it, but I know. Deep down, I know I’ll always be here,” I say into her floral-scented, sunset red hair. I hold onto her a few more moments before reluctantly releasing her.
“Now, why don’t we go to the furniture store and replace that ugly ass thing in the living room that calls itself a couch?”
“I wasn’t going to say anything about the couch, but since you brought it up. It is kind of ugly,” she snickers and a smile spreads across her face. It’s the biggest smile I’ve seen her give before, and I seriously have to stop myself from pulling out my phone and snapping a picture, just so I can keep this moment fresh in mind forever.
We make a quick drive to the furniture store, and pick out a tan sectional for the living room. Emerson cringes at the price, but I don’t care. I simply pull out my card and swipe it. A couple of the guys that work their help load it into the truck and then we’re off to the grocery store. Since neither of us are all that good at cooking our list is short.
The entire time throughout the store, we walk hand in hand, and I can’t help but feel like people staring at us. It’s not like I haven’t held a girl’s hand before, but I guess I’ve never held it with the intention of something other than sex.
“I’m thinking maybe ten to fifteen frozen pizzas. We could always buy different toppings to give us some variety. Mushrooms, onions, peppers, you know.”
“Pizza sounds great… I like Hawaiian style.”
Gasping, I say, “Pineapple doesn’t go on pizza.” I act outraged, but inside, I’m overjoyed to see her come out of her shell. A few days ago, she was too timid to tell me what she likes to eat, or even talk but now she’s speaking up and I’ve never been happier to hear a woman talk in my life.
Emerson’s eyes light up and I swear she’s close to laughter. “Are you a pizza god or something?”
“He’s a god alright, but it ain’t of pizza sweetheart,” a familiar voice filled with flirt sounds behind me. Emerson’s smile fades and her grip on my hand tightens. Fire fills my belly as I swing around, coming face to face with Brad and Paul, two guys I’ve known since we played baseball together in middle school. Jocks, assholes, popular douche-bags. Like me…
“What’s up, Clark?” Paul greets me with a cocky grin. “Haven’t seen you in a hot minute.” His eyes darted away from me and roam over Emerson or what he can see of her since I’m shielding her with my body as best as I can.
“I’ve been busy,” I say, my voice clipped. I don’t feel like fucking talking to them right now. They’re assholes at their finest and that’s the last thing Emerson should have to deal with right now. I know classes a
re right around the corner and I can’t protect her from everything, but I can protect her from these two douches.
“I can see that.” Brad tilts his head, obviously gawking at Emerson. I grit my teeth and try and cool my heated blood. I have to keep myself in check so I don’t squeeze Emerson’s hand any tighter, because if I do, I might crush it.
“Quit looking at her,” I growl, like a fucking dog protecting his territory. Might as well piss on her leg, Clark. Brad and Paul exchange a look, their eyes bulging out of their sockets.
“Dude, since when do you date? Or care if we check out your girls?” Asshole Brad asks, and I kind of want to shove my fist down his throat.
My girls? Fuck. I can’t image what Emerson thinks of me right now.
“Since now, so stop fucking staring.”
Paul rolls his eyes, obviously thinking I’m being dramatic or some shit while Brad continues to gawk as if he’s watching a train wreck that he can look away from.
Douchebags.
A feeling I’ve never felt before in my life creeps up my spine, and at first, I can’t pinpoint then I catch Paul staring again too, and I know exactly what it is I’m feeling. Jealousy. It leaves a sour taste in my mouth and a burning rage in my veins. I stare daggers at both of the guys, both my supposed friends, teammates, willing them to get lost and not come back.
“Okaaaay,” Paul finally says, drawing the ‘a’ out for a few seconds. “Well, this was awkward…let us know when you’re done with your flavor of the week, and maybe we can swap or something.”
Motherfucking. Fuck. No way will I be able to look at Emerson after this. I used to think fucking an endless amount of women was fun, stacking ‘em up like cordwood, but now I’m sickened by the thought of it alone.
“See you around, I guess,” Brad adds and they both finally walk away, leaving me with an embarrassing mess.
Slowly I turn around, keeping my head low as I meet Emerson’s eyes. “I’m sorry, they are jerks.”
“You don’t have to apologize. You don’t owe me anything. I don’t care about your past, or your present. We’re friends, Clark, and friends don’t care who friends sleep with.” She tries her best to keep her voice even, but even I can hear the slight tremble in it.
I’m not sure if she is shaken from the conversation with the guys or if she is lying, and simply saying it to weaken the low blows those assholes took on me. Either way, the words sting a little more than I expected them too.
Desperate to change the subject and lighten the mood, I say, “Let’s go home and eat one of these exotic pizzas with pineapples on it. Maybe you can change my mind after all.”
Emerson’s eyes light up, but not like before, and the smile on her lips is gone now proving to me that what those assholes said got to her somehow.
Fuck… and to think I thought I was making headway.
Chapter Six
Emerson
The grocery store was painfully awkward, so when we pull into the driveway of the condo, I’m beyond grateful to be back home. Home. It’s so strange to think this is going to be my new home, our new home. I still haven’t wrapped my head around everything that’s taken place today, and I know it’s going to take me some time to digest it. Change is hard on me, but with Clark by my side, it’s becoming easier. I’m terrified at the thought of needing him, of losing him but try my hardest not to focus on it.
It isn’t until we’re parked in the driveway that we realize there is no way I would be able to help Clark get this oversized, bulky, sectional moved inside.
“I could try to help you,” I announce meekly, knowing damn well that I won't be able to lift that thing.
“No, it’s fine. I’ll call a friend,” he tells me, frustration wrinkling his forehead and I immediately recoil. I just met two of his friends and I don’t think I can handle any more of that tonight. I try and hide my distaste of the idea but with one look I know he’s already seen it. “A real friend, Em, those guys at the store were not my friends. Maybe they used to be, but not anymore. I’ll call Vance, he’s my best friend, you’ll like him… once you get to know him.” Looking up from his phone, he adds, “I only ask that you give him a chance. He’s a little rough around the edges.”
What does that mean? I try not to dwell on the thought as Clark calls his friend and instead gather up the groceries. Clark gives me a displeased look before hanging up the phone and then grabs them from me and starts walking up the front steps.
“You know I’m not broken, right? I can carry groceries.”
“Yeah, but why should you when I’m here.” He winks and starts up the walkway. I fell into step behind him, wondering if this is going to be the norm. Once inside the house, I close the door behind us, and head into the kitchen where Clark has deposited the grocery bags.
“I don’t want to worry you, but Vance is a little intense. He won’t hurt you or anything, but he comes off pretty brash.”
“Okay,” I reply, unsure of how I should react to his friend.
“Ava, on the other hand, you’re going to like. She’ll be coming with him.” Clark gives me a reassuring smile that makes my heart do a little flip flop in my chest.
“Ava?” I asked, cocking my head to the side.
“Yes, Ava. She’s his stepsister, and well…” Clark’s eyes light up with amusement as if he’s reliving a fond memory. “Just wait, you’ll see.”
We are in the kitchen putting the groceries in the fridge when we hear a car pull up. Clark walks to the door, opening it before a knock can even sound against the wooden door.
“Hey guys,” he says, gesturing for them to come in. A guy, who I’m assuming is Vance and a girl who has to be Ava walk in together. Both look around, taking in the place until their eyes fall on me standing in the kitchen. I can’t imagine how all this looks to them. My teeth sink into my bottom lip, worrying the flesh nervously while I wring my hands together in front of me.
“What the fuck’s going on?” Vance asks confusion glittering his voice. He looks like a brute, like a bad boy, Clark is the complete opposite. Next to him, Ava blinks, a slow smile forming on her lips. She’s impossibly pretty with big eyes, blemish-free skin, and brown hair that reminds me of a chocolate waterfall. I don’t know how I could ever compete against someone like her, and a sliver of jealousy forms in my gut when I think about who she is to him.
Clark shoves a hand into his hair, his fingers gliding through his glossy brown locks. “Ava, Vance. Meet Emerson, my girlfriend.”
Girlfriend?
“Girlfriend?” Vance stutters, echoing my thoughts exactly as I feel it.
“Yup. Girlfriend,” Clark confirms, his voice stern. “Emerson, this is Vance, my best friend, and Ava, my second best friend.”
“Hi,” I say, my voice quiet, even though I’m trying my best to sound confident or at least normal. I have this weird desire to look good in front of Clark’s friend. I want them to like me, and I don’t want to make Clark look bad or disappoint him. He’s done so much for me this is the least I can do. I’ll pretend to be whatever he wants right now, and ask him why later on.
“Explain,” Vance orders his friend, but Clark shakes his head.
“I will…later.”
Vance opens his mouth, clearly about to demand answers, but Ava tugs on his arm, attempting to distract him from what I assume would be an argument between the two guys.
“Why don’t we stay for a little while, have a drink, catch up, and you can show us your new place?” My eyes flicker between Vance and Clark, an internal tug of war taking place. While looking at them, I can’t help but notice how different they are. Both of them are extremely attractive, but there’s this darkness that lingers around Vance. It’s almost like he hates the world and he’s giving it the middle finger. Where Clark is light, flirty, and funny, Vance is the opposite and I know this without even knowing him.
So how did they become friends?
I pull my gaze from the two of them and move it to Ava whose eyes flic
ker with excitement as she elbows Vance in the side. Finally he turns to look down at her, the anger, and confusion in his eyes melting away almost instantly, leaving adoration and love in its place. Seconds ago I was worried that maybe she was one of Clark’s exes or maybe even someone special to him, but I can see now that the apple of her eye isn’t Clark at all.
“Alright, let’s have a drink.” Vance glowers, his gaze swinging back to Clark. Ava’s smile widens, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction as the pair enter deeper into the house, the door closing us all inside.
“How long have you guys been dating?” Vance questions, and for the first time ever, his eyes are on me, piercing through me. Under his penetrating gaze, it feels like he can see me, really see me and I don’t like it. Feeling self-conscious, I drop my eyes to the floor.
“Uhhh, it’s new,” Clark interjects coming to stand beside me. “Only about a week.” His hand finds its way into mine, and he squeezes it letting me know he’s here, letting me know he’s got me.
“A week?” Vance snorts, clearly not believing Clark’s lie of us being a couple. “I’ve never seen you with a chick longer than it takes you to fuck them and toss the condom. She must be something special if she’s got you fucking her more than once.”
My breath hitches at his words, at the confession of who my knight really is. I know I said I didn’t care about his past, but I can’t help but take notice of the fact that he was clearly a manwhore not all that long ago.
“Vance…” Clark growls and releases my hand to walk toward his friend. With a murderous look in his eyes, he grabs him by the arm and pulls him toward the bedroom. I catch Vance rolling his eyes, but he follows Clark without complaint.
Once they’re out of sight, I feel like I can finally breathe again, the air lighter, less tense and frigid. Clark wasn’t lying, this guy is intense. Not just intense, but rude, crass, he makes the guys from the grocery store look like child’s play.
My pulse thuds loudly in my ears signifying my panic, but I also realize that I’m a whole lot calmer than I would normally be in this type of situation. Clark said that Vance is a good guy and I trust in that. Clark wouldn’t have invited him if he didn't think I was safe.
