Changing Forever (25 page)

“You have no idea,” I mumble, pressing my cheek against the comforter. My legs ache; I’m going to be sore tomorrow after the dancing and sex. “Stay with me tonight?”

“Do you want me to?”

“Yes,” I whisper. “I want to know you’ll still be here in the morning.”

His body lifts off mine, and his strong hands pull my upper body from the bed, turning me around. “I’ll be here.”

I wrap my arms around his neck, kissing his chin. “I know.”

E
MERY
’
S
LEGS
ARE
TANGLED
WITH
MINE
, her head resting in the crook of my arm. It’s much like the way we fell asleep last night, which shows just how tired we were. I never pictured life like this, at least not any time soon. I could stare at her long eyelashes and full pink lips all day long.

I run the back of my hand along the smooth skin of her back, remembering everything we did last night. Once wasn’t enough ... I can never get enough of her. My fingers continue upward, tangling in her long, soft hair. It always smells like cherries. I hated cherries until I met her.

“Mmm.” She wraps her arms tightly around her pillow, looking content.

I brush some hair from her face, giving me a better view of her rosy cheeks. “Hey, sexy, did you sleep well?”

“Yeah.” She sighs into her pillow, opening her big brown eyes. “You?”

I lay my head next to hers, placing my palm on her cheek. “Like a baby.”

Pressing my lips to hers, I let them linger a little longer than I normally do. A sweet girl like her deserves a sweet morning wake up.

I pull back, gently nuzzling her nose with mine. “What’s the plan for today?”

“I have to study for a couple exams and finish a paper. The professors are piling it on me before Thanksgiving break.”

“Do you need a study partner?” I wonder if she sees the twinkle in my eye with the bright morning light sneaking through the curtains.

She taps her index finger on my chin, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. “Wouldn’t you consider yourself more of a distraction?”

I laugh, tightly wrapping my arm behind her back. “Call me what you want, but I’m your favorite distraction.”

Her eyes brighten. It’s like a light bulb went off inside her head. “My favorite quarterback. My favorite study buddy. My favorite distraction. My favorite …” She pauses, but I know what she was going to say, and a part of me is dying for the word to escape her lips.

“What were you going to say?”

“Nothing. I just got a little carried away with my favorites.” Her eyes fixate on my forehead as she uses her fingertips to push a few strands of hair away from my brow.

Grabbing her wrist gently in my hand, I halt her progress. “Please say it.”

She swallows, her eyes finding mine again. “My favorite boyfriend.” Her voice is only a hair louder than a whisper, hesitant and shaky.

“That’s my favorite of your favorites,” I whisper, brushing my lips against hers. We’ve never taken the time to talk about what we are, just that we’re investing in each other.

She lets out a breath, and I roll her to her back, seating myself between her bare legs. There are pluses to falling asleep with no clothes on.

I’m going to show Emery my favorite right now.

This place is becoming too familiar. I have my regular spot … there are actually people here every day who leave it open for me. And the smell of old books … I’m starting to like that, too.

I guess this is the power of a woman on display. Emery could probably get me to go on a historical tour of the city, or sit through one of those stupid ballets or musicals. She could get me to do just about anything.

“What are we studying today?” I ask Emery as I settle into the chair across from her. Her hair is pulled up in a bun, dark glasses perched on her nose, and a pencil tucked behind her ear. She never tries too hard to impress me, and it makes her that much sexier.

Peeking up at me, she smiles. “Anatomy.”

I rub my foot against her calf, running the eraser of my pencil across my lower lip. “I can definitely help you with that.”

“Drake, is there any topic that doesn’t make you think about sex?”

I think about it for a second. Not too much, though, because I already know the answer. “I can’t think of many.”

She pulls her glasses off, rubbing the skin under her tired eyes. “I can’t wait to get a little break. This stuff is so exhausting.”

Reaching across the table, I cover her small hand with mine. “Quit being so hard on yourself. Not everything has to be so fucking perfect, Em.”

“I’m all I got, Drake. If I don’t work hard, I could lose my scholarship. If I lose my undergrad scholarship, there’s no freaking chance I’m going to graduate school.”

I’m about to tell her that it doesn’t matter. That school isn’t going to make or break her, but then I remember I’m in the same fucking predicament. Mine just involves tossing a ball around and winning as many games as I can.

I nod, squeezing her hand. “I get it, but maybe we can work on mixing some more fun in with these trips to the library.”

“Hey, I think we’ve been having lots of fun,” she says, her eyes growing larger.

“A party.” She grimaces, but it doesn’t stop me. “I know they’re not your favorite, and to be honest, they’re not mine either, but my teammates are giving me crap about missing them.”

“I have a test in the morning,” she says, tilting her head to one side.

“Let’s make a deal. You study for the rest of the afternoon while I go to practice, and when I’m done, we’ll go, even if it’s just for a while.”

I can see her wheels turning as she stares at me. “Fine, I’ll go, but I’m not staying out late.”

Standing up, I walk to her side of the table and kiss the top of her head. “Don’t worry, I’ll have you home by ten.”

“PM,” she adds, wrapping her hand around the back of my head.

I lean in, placing my finger under her chin to lift her face and kiss her soft lips. “I’ll pick you up at eight. I promise not to be late.”

She laughs. “Drake’s a poet, and he didn’t even know it.”

“Oh, he knows it,” I say, walking away.

Five hours later, I’ve completed a grueling practice, thanks to Coach’s need to make sure everything is perfect. He played football in college. He should know that no matter how much you prepare, it all comes down to who has it on game day. It’s not just about skill.

My phone rings from my back pocket as I walk out onto the parking lot. I pull it out, hoping to see Emery’s name across the screen, but I see my sister, Tessa’s, instead.

I press the button quickly. She never calls me. “Hello?”

“Hey, Drake, umm, Mom wanted me to call and ask if you’re coming home for Thanksgiving.”

Of course she’d have my sister call me. I’ve been avoiding her calls for a few days. “I’m sorry, Tess, I can’t.”

“But we want you to,” she whines. I never feel bad letting Mom down, but my sisters are different. I think my mom knows it, too.

“I have a game on Friday. By the time I get home, I’d have to turn right around and go back to school,” I say, rubbing my fingers over my brow.

“Who’s going to make the turkey?”

“If I email you the instructions, do you think you and Quinn can handle it this year?” Sadly, I’ve known how to make a fucking turkey since I was twelve.

She sighs, and the phone remains silent for a few seconds. “I guess.”

“Maybe Mom will help. What’s she been up to?”

“Working. She got that job at the insurance office, and she’s working nights at the steakhouse.”

I’m shocked that she got the insurance job, but I recover quickly. “Wow, good for her.”

“Yeah, it’s been good. I even got a new pair of jeans from the mall,” she says excitedly.

“The ones you’ve been asking me about?” I ask quietly, thinking of all the times she begged me for them. I always had to tell her no.

Looking down at my watch, I notice it’s a couple minutes past eight. I’m late picking up Emery. “Hey, Tess, I have somewhere I have to go. I’ll call you on Thanksgiving morning to make sure everything is okay?”

“Yeah, sure. Don’t forget to email me.”

“I won’t.”

We hang up, and even though I told myself I wouldn’t let myself get angry over my mom anymore, I can’t help it. For seven years I lived in that house with her, and every day, she walked around like some sort of tame zombie. I supported everyone, and now that I’ve moved out, she’s decided to move on with her life. I guess it’s good for my sisters, and I have to just let it go.

I white knuckle it all the way to Emery’s dorm, thinking of the times I sold my baseball cards my dad gave me for some extra cash. Or the times in high school I worked way more hours than I should have, burning myself out.

She might be on time to save my sisters, but she’s way too fucking late for me.

As I pull into the parking lot, my phone rings again. This time it’s Emery. “Hey.”

“Hey,” she says, sounding worried.

“I’m running a little late, but I’m on my way. Are you ready?”

“I’m ready and waiting.”

“Okay, I’m pulling up to your building now if you want to come out. I’ll just keep my car running … it’s a little chilly out here tonight.”

The phone clicks without another word, and I see her running out the front door in her familiar green winter coat. Her dark, tight blue jeans peek out from underneath, and her brown leather boots go up to her knees. But the sexiest thing about her is the white stocking hat with the stupid little ball at the top. I never thought I’d find one of those sexy.

She opens the passenger side door and quickly climbs in, rubbing her bare hands together. “We should get you some gloves. You seem to have everything else.”

She scoots across the seat, wrapping her cold hand around the back of my neck. “How does that feel?”

I kiss her. It’s been hours … too many fucking hours. “Cold,” I mumble against her lips.

“I guess that’s what you get for making me go out on a cold night.” Her lips touch mine again, much warmer than her ice-cold hand. “It better be worth it.”

Pulling back, I run my thumb over her lower lip. “It will be worth it. I promise.”

She kisses me again before scooting back to her seat and pulling her seatbelt over her shoulder. As I put my car in reverse, I feel like a little kid right before the bell rings for recess.

When I turn left on the street, she asks, “Aren’t the frat houses the other way?”

“Yes.”

“Then where are we going?”

“Sit back and enjoy the ride.” I grab for her hand, bringing her knuckles to my lips.

“Drake—”

“Seriously, you need to trust me.” Everything Emery does is planned out. If I hadn’t talked her into going out tonight, we’d be stuck in her room or mine, studying. It’s what we’ve done every night since the club, and I couldn’t take another fucking night of it.

“Are you taking me to the movies?”