Without a Doubt (9 page)

“What?” I ask, curious as to what he's thinking.

“I've never felt so domestic in my entire life. Washing dishes is supposed turn women on though, right?”

I laugh, looking down as I wash a pan. “That's what they say.”

He bumps his elbow against mine. “Well?”

My eyes lift to his as I pass him the last pan. “Well, what?”

His grin confirms what I'm sure he's about to say. I'm correct as his voice turns sultry, sending hot zaps of electricity through my body. “Am I turning you on, Eva?”

I flick my eyes to where his hands are moving to rinse the pan of all the suds. It's nice, but turning me on might be a bit of a stretch. I'm more turned on by his question and voice than his actions at this point. I answer with my own question, “Are you trying to turn me on, Emerson?”

“I'm not trying to, no. I'd take a more proactive approach if I were.”

I try not to think about that as I pull the stopper out to drain the water, move the faucet over to my side to rinse the sink and my hands. Nope. I don't need to think about his hands or his mouth, or other parts of his body. I don't need to wonder how he would try to seduce me. Emerson hands me a paper towel. He's wearing a stupid knowing smile as if he knows exactly what I'm thinking. I won't say it hasn't crossed my mind before about how certain things would be with Emerson. I've thought about them quite a bit.

“What are you thinking about?” Emerson asks as he leans against the counter, facing me.

“Isn't that a question girls always ask that boys despise?”

He laughs and then rests his hands on my hips, causing me to take a small step closer to him. “You don't want to tell me then?”

“I don't like how smug you're acting, Emerson. Just what do you think I'm thinking about?”

Bad question. Such a bad question. I would be kicking myself in the gut so hard right now, but I'm not because Emerson doesn't answer me. Instead, he leans down to kiss me. This isn't like our first kiss or the small ones we've had since then. Oh, no.

This one makes my skin heat up, a rush of warmth flooding my body.

This one makes me want to drag him to the nearest bed.

It's a dangerous mixing of lips, tongues, and bodies pressing together to eliminate any personal space. My hands have found themselves in his hair at the base of his neck, while his hands have slipped under my shirt, inching their way up slowly. His hands are so hot against my cool skin and it's making me dizzy, delirious with need as he sucks my lower lip into his mouth. I'm torn between wanting to melt against him and ripping his clothes off when I feel the pressured touch of his thumbs underneath each of my breasts.

“I'm on my period!” I blurt out, taking a step back. Emerson blinks and my eyes widen as I cover my mouth with my hands, realizing what I just said. Oh, my God.

“Okay?” Emerson's brows pull together.

“I mean, I meant to say I need a moment to breathe.” Just kill me now. I don't even want to have sex with him yet, and it's not like we were obviously headed there. Why for the love of all that's holy did I just say that? “Can you take me back to campus, please?”

“Sure.” He still seems a little dumbfounded, but he steps away to grab his keys.

We're quiet all the short way back. This is it. This is how this thing with Emerson is going to end. Because I'm an idiot who blurts stupid crap. I still can't believe I said it. I just want to crawl into bed, pull the covers over my face, and wallow in my embarrassment.

Emerson parks his truck, and I don't hesitate to open it. I turn to face him when he speaks.

“I'll talk to you later, Eva,” he says before taking a small pause. “Feel better, I guess?”

I can't help my laugh. “Yeah, thanks.” Before we can dwell on it anymore, I shut the door and head inside. Catherine is grabbing her things as if she's about to leave when I step into our dorm. She glances over her shoulder.

“No smile today?”

“Nope.”

She turns to give me her attention. “Why not?”

I recap what happened and she busts out laughing at me. “You're a terrible friend, Catherine!”

She's still giggling. “I don't know what's funnier; what you said or that fact that he told you to feel better like it's a cold.”

“I'm never going to hear from him again,” I groan.

Catherine rolls her eyes. “Oh, come on. You ran into his truck and he took you out to dinner. I doubt this will make him run away,” she reassures. “Okay, I have a date myself, so I will see you later. Please, don't do anything else embarrassing in front of Emerson. You're making it a habit.” She laughs as she walks out of the room.

IT'S BEEN A few days since I've heard from Eva. Granted, I haven't texted her either, but someone called into work sick twice so far this week, and I was the lucky person who filled in for him both times. Yesterday, I ended up working a double shift because of it. I'm happy about the extra money, but not about being exhausted when I get home.

I'm sitting in class, tapping my pen against my thigh as I listen to the professor's droning lecture. Usually, my classes hold my rapt attention because there's usually something interesting to be learned, but today, I can't focus. I still don't know what to make of what happened last Saturday. The only thing I can say for certain is that it has never happened to me before. I need to talk to her soon if I'm going to follow through with what I have planned for this weekend for us. Ever since the idea came to me when Eva said we needed to do something I like, I've been excited, but wary when I realized what it entails.

Going home.

All week, I've been asking myself the same questions over and over. Can I take Eva there? When there's even a slight possibility we could run into Kelly? I doubt we would, but the possibility is there. The anxiety has been annoying as hell to deal with. I'm torn with not wanting to go home, especially not with Eva, and wanting to show Eva something I like to do for fun.

The professor finally dismisses us with an assignment to complete before our next class. It's my last class of the day, and I'm free to do whatever I want now. So, I head to Eva's dorm. Unfortunately, she doesn't answer the door.

“Hey. Catherine, right?”

She eyes me warily for a moment. “Yeah. Eva's not here; she's working.”

“Thanks.”

Once I return to my truck, I drive to Sub Grub. Unlike last time, it's really busy and Eva isn't working alone. I join the line, wondering if I should wait until later to ask her about this weekend. While I wait, I glance around to really take in the place. It's a decent size and must do well with 75 percent of the tables full and the line with at least seven people. Between the two of them, the line still moves at a decent pace and before long, I'm standing in front of a surprised-to-see-me Eva.

“Emerson, what are you doing here?”

“For food,” I answer with a grin. She rolls her eyes. “The same as last time, please.” She starts fixing my sub, and I say, “Sorry I haven't talked to you lately.” I shake my head. “Work has tied me up.”

She shrugs. “We all get busy; it's okay. Is that why you came in?” She slides it into the toaster and faces me.

“Not exactly. Do you work Saturday?” Eva nods. “Think you could switch for Sunday?”

The other, older guy who's working with her has finished up at the cash register and comes over. “No, she can not.”

Eva laughs as she retrieves the sub. “Oh, come on, Barry. When have I ever asked to switch shifts with someone?”

“Never, but when that someone would be me, I think the answer is no.” I can't tell if he's joking or not. It's then I notice his name tag also includes “manager.” Maybe I should have waited.

“You're the boss. Make someone else work and give yourself the weekend off,” Eva tells him, putting the same ingredients on it as last time.

Barry has been watching me with narrowed eyes. “Fine, but only because you're a stellar employee and have never asked to switch. I'm going for a smoke break while things seem to have calmed down.” He walks away, disappearing into the back.

“Am I going to have to get up as early this Saturday as last time?” Eva asks as we move down to the register.

“No. I was thinking I'd pick you up around ten? There's a bit of traveling involved.”

Her brows rise, but she doesn't ask. “Okay. I'll be ready then. Do you want me to meet you at your apartment?”

Can I just say that I love she loves surprises? Not only that, but she trusts me enough to not ask about what we're doing or where I'm taking her. She's content in waiting to find out and trusting me to make it worth the wait.

“I can pick you up, but if you want to meet me there, you can.”

“I'll meet you.”

I nod, handing her my card to run. “Wear clothes and shoes you don't mind getting dirty, and bring a change of clean clothes and shoes. You'll need them.”

She hands it back to me, tilting her head. “You're making it very hard not to ask questions.”

I laugh. “Sorry.” Someone comes in, so I add, “I'll see you later, Eva.”

“Bye, Emerson.”

The closer Saturday comes, the more nervous I become. Never has going home made me this nervous. All because it's the same town Kelly is in and I'm taking Eva there. I've been feeling a mixture of excitement for what we'll be doing, but also a little guilt. There's always a twinge of guilt involved when I see a girl. I hate it. At first, it was reassuring. It sealed it for me that what Kelly was asking of me was wrong, that I shouldn't be doing it even if she had asked.

I wonder if it'll ever go away, if I'll ever want it to go away. Kelly is supposed to be the love of my life after all, right? If the guilt goes away, then it means she wasn't. What will happen at the end of the two years then? If she's ready for me, what if I don't want to get back together? I've never had these types of thoughts before. Everything I've done had one purpose: to do what Kelly asked of me until we were back together again.

The knock on my door sends these thoughts away, thankfully. Eva is standing on the other side, wearing a plain white t-shirt, shorts, and tennis shoes. There's a tote bag hanging off her shoulder.

“Shorts, okay?” she asks, glancing down at herself.

“Yeah, shorts will be fine. Come on in,” I say, stepping aside. “I need to grab my things and my keys.” As I walk down the hall to my bedroom, I hear her soft footsteps following me.

“I feel like I should explain what happened last week,” she tells me.

“You don't have to,” I tell her, unsure of how she's going to explain it.

“It would be nice to never have to think about it again, but I don't think I can do that yet.” I pick up my duffle bag and face her. Her arms are crossed, and she looks a little nervous. “Why I said what I did is still a mystery to me and I'm so sorry I blurted it out like that.” Eva glances down as she shifts her weight. “I'm just not quite ready to make the step to sex yet, and in the midst of things with you, I sort of lose a bit of my strong stance on waiting. So, I blurt out stupid things to stop myself, I guess.”

I cross over to her, running a hand down her arm and clasping her hand in mine. “I wasn't trying to pressure you.” And I wasn't, not at all.