My phone vibrates from its spot on the end table and I wince, hoping like hell it doesn’t wake Em up. Reaching behind me, careful not to move her, I grab it, and the vibration against the wood silences. Glancing at the screen, I see Case’s name. Letting the call go to voice mail, I fire off a text.
Me: What’s up?
Case: Harvey’s?
Me: Can’t.
Case: Dude, what’s with you?
Me: I’m on a date.
Case: With who?
Case: Wait. You don’t date.
I do now.
Me: I do now.
I can see the little bubbles bouncing, telling me he’s writing back. I’m sure I’ve shocked him. I know I’ve shocked him. I don’t date as it’s hard to decipher the real from the fake. Who wants you for your fame and fortune and who wants you for you. I can say with 100 percent certainty that the woman in my arms couldn’t care less about my career or my bank account. No way is this fake—the way she watches me or blushes when I call her freckles. The way she continues to shoot me down even when I can see it in her eyes, that telling me no is the last thing she wants to do.
Case: Prove it.
I hesitate before snapping a picture of her in my arms. My smile is wide and genuine as I hold her while she sleeps. I have to admit this being my new normal sounds pretty fucking good. I could get on board with hanging out with her like this. Shaking out of my thoughts, I send him the picture.
Case: No shit.
Case: Are you boring her or what?
Me: Fuck off. Tell Harv I said hey.
Case: 10-4
I love how he easily lets me off the hook because he knows I’m with a woman, but if I would have been sitting at home enjoying the peace and quiet there, he would have been knocking on my door and dragging my ass to the bar. He’s giving me peace for now, but I know as sure as I’m sitting here, that the next time I talk to him, he’s going to give me shit. Then he’s going to want to know what’s going on. What my intentions are. He doesn’t know her, has only met her once, and he’s still going to ask me.
Placing my phone back on the table, I try to focus on the movie. I’ve missed over half of it, and it’s unable to grab my attention, unlike the beautiful woman sleeping in my arms. She shifts, and now she’s lying on top of me. I bring my other leg up on the couch and wrap both of my arms around her. Closing my eyes, I focus on memorizing how this feels.
I used to think guys like Trent were crazy for having a wife and kid while traveling all the time… to be away from them while we’re on the road. It’s not about the temptation. You can remove yourself from that easily enough. The guys that give in to temptation put themselves in the middle of it. I can’t help but wonder what it would be like if she were mine. What would it be like coming home after being on the road to find her warm and snuggled in my bed? That image alone has my cock stirring to life, and we can’t have that. Not with her body aligned with mine. I don’t want to scare her off. No. In fact, I want to keep her with me as long as possible.
Holy fuck. I want her to be mine.
I let that thought take root, decipher what it would mean for me and for her, and then my mind goes to being with her like this all the time. No more random hookups. Instead, something meaningful and real.
Am I ready for that?
Am I ready for her?
Those are my last thoughts as I drift off to sleep.
* * *
Feeling as though I’m being watched, I peel my eyes open. Emma is still on top of me, but now she’s on her belly, her chin propped by her hand on my chest. Her green eyes stare at me intently and a slight blush coats her cheeks.
Busted.
“We fell asleep,” she says before I have a chance to call her out on watching me.
“We did.”
“I’m not sure how I feel about that.”
Another thing that sets her apart from the others is she’s open and honest. Sure, sometimes I feel as though I have to pull it out of her, but we’re just getting to know each other. I can only imagine that over time, I’ll never have to guess or pry it out of her. She’ll just tell me like she did just now.
“Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“You first.”
“I’m thinking we should make this a tradition, naps on Saturday afternoons.”
“Pretty soon the season will start and you won’t have Saturday afternoons available for naps.”
“There’s always the off-season.” She closes her eyes, and I hate that we’ve lost that connection. “Em.” I brush some loose strands of hair away from her face while I wait for her to decide she’s ready to face me again. When she does finally open her eyes, they’re intense as they lock on mine.
“This isn’t a game, Landon. I can’t do this—” She indicates her head toward me. “—kind of thing without catching feelings. I know me, and I know I can’t do it. I won’t pretend to say that I know you, because I don’t. Do I think you’re a good guy? Yeah, I do. Do I think that this is really what you want? No, I don’t. It gets to you that I told you no, so you’re pulling
