“Oh, congratulations. Can’t believe you have to start your honeymoon like this though.” She shakes her head and looks upset by our pretend circumstances.
“Don’t worry.” Emma winks at her. “We’re making up for it in other ways.”
“Oh.” The lady’s cheeks redden, looking between the pair of us, and hides a smile behind a hand before she says. “Well, dears, don’t let me keep you from a good time. Have a good night.” She laughs at her own joke and walks past us, brushing a hand down my arm. What is with people doing that to me today? Have I been a shut-in for so long that this is the new custom?
Emma laughs the rest of the way up to the room. “I can’t believe how easy that was.”
“You’re wild,” I reply, shaking my head in disbelief. “And you’ve made me an accomplice.”
“Liam, we’re only together a short time. Once we go our separate ways, we can go back to who we were before. I don’t see the harm in that, do you? Haven’t you ever wanted to pretend?”
Pretend things were different? Everyday.
“As long as you don’t dress me up while we play house, I can’t see the harm.”
“Awe, but I bet you would look super cute in a bright pink cocktail dress with jewels that sparkle when you walk. Only a few men can pull off that color, ya know." Her body shakes with laughter as she starts to slide the key card into the door. I grab her arm, she twists, wearing that smile that reaches her eyes, and I want a taste of it.
Pressing her against the door, the boxes crumpling between our bodies. Her smile falters, and her eyes grow darker as the blue of the sky does before a storm hits. I kiss her.
We get lost in the kiss and can’t get our bodies close enough. Her lips taste like sunshine and good outcomes. I’m itching to tear off her clothes where she stands, but then I hear a girlish giggle.
“You dropped your stuff.” Still catching my breath, standing in the hall to my right, there’s a girl in a bright pink swimsuit, pointing at the forgotten boxes.
“Thanks, kid,” I say while grabbing them, shielding my erection from her observant gaze. Emma is laughing so hard she snorts as she slides the key, and the door unlocks with a click. She pushes in, and I follow until we’re safe on the other side of the door. Tossing the boxes on the couch, I grab her from behind. She lets out a squeal as I drop her onto the bed, deciding the food will keep for a while longer.
After however long it takes, no one in this room is keeping track; we sit on the bed opposite one another, the sheet still tangled around us as we eat our sandwiches.
“S-o-o,” I start before taking a bite. “You mentioned you own your business? What do you do?”
She wipes some leftover mustard from her lip. When her thumb starts to enter her mouth, I see it in slow motion. By the time it comes back out seconds later, clean, I’ve forgotten what I had asked until she starts to answer me.
“An event planner.”
I clear my throat, but my response still comes out gruff. “You plan parties and stuff?”
“Well, it’s the stuff that makes me good at my job.“ She bites back a smile.
“Sorry, I can’t say I’ve used someone with your talents before.”
“It’s not surprising. I haven’t known many male clients. It’s a shame; men need more direction than women when it comes to planning things. No offense.”
“I think the offense is intended,” I smirk.
She laughs as she shakes her head. “No, really, it isn’t. My job is in the details. All the little touches. You know exactly what I mean when I say you are all straightforward?” She waits for my nod before going on. “Those details get lost if someone like me isn’t there to remind you of them.”
“The only parties I’ve ever thrown involved a keg, a ping-pong table, and music played from my CD player, but that was back in college. If I ever find myself in need of a party planner now, I will look you up.”
“Good, because you’ll need me.” Her laugh is addicting, and I wouldn’t mind hearing it again after this is all over.
Wait, would I? When I get back, from whatever this is, when we go back to our lives, we’ll no longer line up or make sense.
I live for my solitude, which leaves no room for someone that takes up my time or responsibility. Yet, every minute I spend with her makes it harder to remember why I live that way.
I’m used to people trying, then failing to push me out of my headspace, out of my routine, or mold me into someone that I can’t be. Yet, she’s done all that. With her around, there’s little time to be in my head, when all I want is to be in hers. I was forced out of my routine by my sister, but Emma hasn’t allowed a routine to manifest since I met her. She’s unpredictable, puts pressure on my boundaries, and I let her as if it’s a trampoline. The most astounding part is I watch her in fascination as she does so. She has no agenda, and she’s not trying to put me in one.
Our eyes go to the light by the bed. We watch as it flickers again. We’re holding our breaths and the storm outside seems louder than ever.
“Do you think-” She starts, and before I can get my eyes on her again, the light goes out. Her hand reaches and finds mine searching for her. “I guess that answers my question. I can’t see a thing, can you?”
Shaking my head, I smile at myself before saying, “Not a thing.”
“Oh, I have candles in my bag.”
“Should I ask?”
“In this case, it’s for work.
