Just Breathe Trilogy Box Set (30 page)

Letting go of me, Joe takes my hand as he moves the covers, guiding me to get in first. Before I’m fully situated, he climbs in and spoons me.

Breaking the silence first, I jokingly question, “Why are you on my side of the bed again?”

A small laugh escapes his throat, “I’m not. You are on my side.”

“This is my side. I slept here last night,” I share.

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, like he’s deciding on what to say. Releasing his arm draped in front of me, Joe repositions the hair on my neck before tracing the side of my body all the way down to my exposed hip. “How about . . . you tell me about this, and I’ll answer why I’m on your side of the bed.” His finger circles around my right hip.

Twisting onto my back, I declare, “That’s not an even trade.”

Smiling he offers, “Okay. I’ll answer your question plus one. Any one.”

“No.”

“Any two?” he returns.

I pretend that I’m weighing his offer to make him sweat. “Four questions. And they don’t all have to be asked tonight.”

“Three and you’ve got a deal,” he negotiates.

“Fine,” I agree.

“You forget, beautiful . . . I’m not the one who has trouble opening up,” he taunts.

Ignoring his statement, I focus on getting my answer. “So? Why are you on my side of the bed?”

Playing with a lock of my hair he chuckles, “This is my side of the bed. The whole bed is my side.”

I glare at him because he knows that’s not a good enough of an answer for me.

“And, this is especially my side of the bed because you are in it.”

My face changes to furrowed brows which elicits him to explain further.

“If, God forbid, someone broke into my home and came into this bedroom, they’d have to go through me before they can get to you.”

His explanation has some logic to it.

“I have a question, but it does not count as one of my questions . . .” I begin.

Joe lifts a brow.

“This is a continuation to understand your answer and what you just said.”

He nods in agreement.

“What if that person came through the window?”

Joe laughs. “We’re in the penthouse. No one is coming through the window.”

“Still relevant to the topic at hand . . .” I push.

“Go ahead,” he muses.

To bait him further away from what he wants to know, I press, “What if, hypothetically, we weren’t in a penthouse. What if we were in a one or two story home or building, that gave easy access to the window?”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“Answer the question,” I urge.

“Though there is some validity to your statement, I would argue that before the person gets all the way into the room, successfully through the window, I’d already be between you and him.”

With some sarcasm in my tone, “How do you or I know whether or not you are a sound sleeper and would be awake and coherent enough to do such a thing, and . . . .”

Before I can finish, Joe has his right hand clamped on my thigh just above my knee. He only knows about that ticklish spot because of Jared. I’m surprised he remembers.

“Are you sure you want to continue this conversation?” Joe maintains an even expression I’ve never seen before.

Smirking, I consider my choices. Not giving me long enough to make a final decision, Joe squeeze his hand on my leg and I squeal and wiggle.

“Okay,” I concede.

He doesn’t move his hand away from my leg, so I give him a sideways glance.

“I’m not moving until you answer my question,” he asserts. His eyes stare into mine while he tries to conceal a smile. “Your turn.”

With a serious expression, I inquire, “What do you want to know?”

With a worried look, Joe shifts and places his hand on my stomach. “Whatever you’re willing to share.”

I roll and pull my bottoms down an inch or two, far enough for him to see the scar. With his index finger, he glides over it cautiously.

“It’s from the accident,” I comment.

Joe traces the scar several times with his fingers. My eyes dart open when I feel his lips lightly pressing down on my hip and my body is not quick to move away from the embrace. Our gazes meet and Joe’s lips return to my skin, delivering a long, gentle kiss before he slides his body closer to mine. He takes the edge of the covers and pulls them over us. Placing his hand back on my hip, he seeks more, “Will you tell me more about it? Or them?”

I run my fingers through my hair, deciding what to say. “No,” I refuse.

“Please,” he searches.

“Jared told you enough,” I uncontrollably blurt.

I didn’t want to admit to either of them that I know about their conversation about me and my parents from this morning.

“You were awake?” he verifies. “I’m sorry. I . . . .”

“It’s okay,” I sheepishly comfort.

Securing me tighter into his body, Joe kisses my shoulder. “Goodnight, beautiful.”

“Goodnight, Joe.”

Sultry, deep breaths on my neck and a delicate finger trailing my bare arm send delicious shivers down my spine. With darkness around me, my palm explores the iron, hot body encompassing me. The scent of him stiffens my nipples and tingles my sex. A hand caresses my jawline and I turn into it, moaning, wanting more. A single finger dances over my bottom lip and my mouth parts hungry for his taste. His lips tickle my nap once — twice — three times. What a delectable dream. I don’t want it to end. I could be here like this every day for all of eternity.

“Good morning, beautiful,” snaps me into consciousness.

I’m immediately met with the admiring face and twinkling eyes of Joe Covelli.

“Morning,” I return groggily.

Recounting the visions in my head, I discern that it wasn’t a dream.

“Told you that you sleep better with me next to you,” he say with a boyish grin.

Curving away, I moan, hugging into a pillow on the other side of me. “What time is it?”

Folding into my body, he reveals, “Six-ten.”

My body becomes instantly rigid. I’ve never slept past six, not since before the accident. “Where’s Sadie?”

The answer I am looking for is confirmed by the presence of a third body on the bed that is sniffing its way over to me. Why didn’t she wake me up to eat?

“I need to feed her,” I remark.

Surrounding me more with his arms, Joe pleas, “Five more minutes.”

‘No,” I object.

“Yes,” he coaxes.

“Nooo,” I repeat, turning to face him again since I’m now sandwiched between him and Sadie.

Kissing my nose and tugging me in, Joe restates, “Yes.”

I let out an exasperated sigh which is met with laughter. “Fine,” I cave.

We lay with our faces within inches of each others. Time moves exhaustingly slow, not because I’m not enjoying myself, but because of the surmounting need to pee. My left foot twitches, hoping to distract me from the increasing pressure in my belly.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“I know you’re lying,” he accuses.

“It’s nothing really,” I deflect.

“We can stop if you want. I just thought you were enjoying it from . . . .”

“No. I mean . . . umm . . . I just really need to pee,” I admit foolishly.

His face relaxes, “Go pee.”

“I can wait.”

No, I can’t, but I don’t want him to know that.

He slides away from me lifting the covers. “Go.”

Closing the bathroom door, I remove my menstrual cup and find that it’s clean. Has it been six days already? After rinsing it, I double check my calendar in my toiletry bag. I’m ecstatic to know I don’t have to wear the cup today during trampolining. After relieving myself, I put a panty liner on just in case.

Leaving the bathroom, I’m surprisingly disappointed when I don’t see Joe in the bed with Sadie. The sound of a door sliding opening startles me for a second. Joe comes out of his closet and has changed. He deliberately brushes past me on his way to the restroom. I quickly shimmy out of my tank and put on a sports bra. Sliding into my running capris, I scurry to find a shirt before Joe exits the bathroom. Just as I yank a shirt out of the bag, Joe saunters over and stands, observing me. Once my top is on, he scoops me up and carries me back to the bed.

“Four minutes,” he says.

All I can do is nod in agreement.

His body and smell are becoming more familiar now. I notice that his breath is steady, but I can feel his heart rapidly pounding through his chest.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, why?” he says with a shaky tone.

“Your heart his really pounding,” I report.

“I’m good,” he insists, drawing me in closer and moaning into my neck.

Sadie makes her way to our faces, determined and persistent to let us know she can’t wait any longer. Joe finally lets go of me when he can no longer compete with Sadie’s insistent playfulness.

We leave Joe’s room and find Anna in the kitchen already preparing a bowl for Sadie.

“Good morning, Anna,” I offer, without questioning her actions.

I’m suddenly acutely aware of her amazing attention to detail. Anna has the exact proportions of food in the bowl for Sadie.

“Good morning, Ms. Emma.” She slides the bowl over to me. “Mr. Joseph,” Anna says suggestively.

I snicker at her words.

“Why are you working on a Sunday, Anna?” I inquire after signaling Sadie to eat.

“I like my job,” Anna returns, as if it is a rehearsed statement. After I give her a quizzical look, she adds, “And Mr. Joseph and Mr. Jimmy need me.”

“They’re big boys. I’m sure they can take care of themselves for one day.”

A chuckle sneaks out of her throat. She recovers quickly by coughing and then replies, “I’d like to get a leg up on this week's chores before Hawaii. I have a lot to do before I have to pack them and myself.”

Taking the glass of clay water Joe prepared for me, I verify her words, “She’s packing for you?”

Joe shrugs finishing his last two gulps of his own clay drink.

Muting a laugh, I say to Ann, “I hope they pay you really well.”

“Oh yes. The Covelli family takes very good care of me,” Anna delightfully insists.

“Good. I’m glad to hear it.” After chugging my clay, I investigate again. “So, you’re joining us in Hawaii?”

“Yes, Ms. Emma.”

“Anna loves Hawaii. Besides, she won’t really be working,” Joe adds.

“Hawaii is one of my favorite places,” Anna comments with a childlike smile.

Shaking my head in disbelief and amazement to Joe’s statement, I get to Sadie’s empty bowl before Anna this time. My line of questioning threw her off just enough. I’ll have to remember this in the future. What am I say? There will be none of this happening in the future.

After taking Sadie out for a good long walk, Joe and I have a smoothie. He insists on making it to prove that he knows how to use the blender and that he actually made the one we drank yesterday. He does pretty good, I have to say.

I purposefully keep my physical distance from Joe since we officially left the bedroom. Snooping a little in the living room, I check out more of the photos and the titles of the variety of books lining his bookshelf. I’ll need to figure out how to sneak into his office to explore the wall of books that reside in there.

It’s not long before Joe’s close behind me. “What are you looking for?” he requests.

“Nothing,” I reply putting a book back.

Enclosing my waist with his arms, he moans into my ear, “Liar.”

Tempted, I resist my urges and slip away. “Do you play?”

With a devious grin, Joe answers, “I love to play.” He takes a giant step towards me, drawing me into him.

“That,” I turn and point.

His eyes reluctantly follow mine to the piano. He growls into my neck like a lion stalking its prey. Pressing his lips to my earlobe, “Yes. Since I was five.”

“Will you play for me?”

“Now?”

I bite my lip and nod.

“I’ll wake everyone.”

“So,” I giggle.

“So . . . I’d rather stay right here.” Joe takes a few steps forward as I take a few steps back until my body is against a window.

“Just friends,” I mumble into his ear.

Ignoring me, he slides his mouth along my jaw. “Just one,” he pleas.

“No,” I whimper.

We both know that my body is saying yes and I’m desperately fighting to keep control over myself.

“I want to hear you play. Will you?”

“When you let me kiss you right here,” Joe announces in a devilish tone as he lightly grazes my lips with his finger.

“That’s not fair,” I scold.

“You’re not the only one who can have rules,” he baits.

“So that’s how you want to do this?” I declare.

“You started it, beautiful,” he shares.

Observing his expression, I try to determine what I want to say or do. I’m enjoying our game, but not when he pushes for another kiss — because, I foolishly want one. Knowing what a second kiss will do to me, I’ve got to be careful. I choose my safety net and peel away from his embrace and head to Jared’s and Nathan’s room.

Listening to make sure I don’t walk in on anything, I press my ear to the door. My eyes catch Joe leaning against a wall about fifteen feet away, watching what I’m doing. Turning the knob, I give Joe a wicked grin and enter the bedroom, closing the door behind me. Safe at last. God job, Emma.

Jared wakes before I turn around. “Everything okay,
Kitten
?”

“Yeah. I just miss you,” I say, buttering him up as I slip under the covers.

“Sleep okay?” He wraps his arms around me.

“Great,” I say, nuzzling into his chest.

As much as I fear relationships, especially the intimacy of relationships, my body craves physical contact. I’m a tactile kind of girl who loves stimulation. When I cuddle with Jared, I feel safe and secure. There are no other expectation or obligations. There are no chances or possibilities that could arise. No secrecy, no hidden desires. Just the feeling of being safe; the feeling of being home.

Breaking my moment of bliss, Jared mentions, “You smell different.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, you just smell different,” he repeats.

“Good different or bad different?” I search.

“Just different.”

“It’s probably from being in Joe’s bed,” I suggest.

The realization sets in. I don’t smell like Joe’s bed, I smell like Joe.

“That’s it,” he verifies.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I accuse.

“Tell you what?” he returns, clueless of my statement.

“About where Joe lives?”

“I didn’t know until he texted me Friday. I thought you knew,” Jared answers.

“Do you think I would have packed to stay the night if I did?” I press.

“Good point,” he concurs. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” I excuse.

I’m not mad at Jared, only surprised by the fact that Joe lives less than a mile away from me.

“It shouldn’t matter. He’s a friend,” he adds.

“Yeah,” I acknowledge.

I don’t really agree, but I don’t want to give away that it does bother me.

We snuggle for a long time and at some point I start crying — I haven’t cried in a while. I’ve missed him, I miss my Jared. We see each other every week, but I miss waking up and going to bed with him every day. I miss our old apartment. I miss — my parents. I remember what they look like because I have photos in my bedroom. What I really miss are their voices — their smell most of all. My heart breaks knowing that I can’t remember that about them. Jared is the only smell and sound left that I have that gives me the feeling of home.

“What’s wrong,
Kitten
?” Jared whispers.

“Nothing,” I weep.

“Tell me,” he encourages. “I can’t help if you don’t tell me.”

“I don’t remember what they sound like or how they smell. I’ve lost so many memories with them,” I sob.

“What do you remember?” he prompts.

“You. Your eyes when we met. Your voice. Your smell. You’re home,” I say.

“And I always will be,” he assures, squeezing me tighter. “But, you will need to find your own home with someone else. Like I have with Nathan.”

His words hurt.

“So it is serious,” I state.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “I will never leave you. You’re home to me too, but Nathan is also home now too.”

“There’s too much changing. I don’t like it,” I confess.

“Change isn’t good or bad. It just depends on how you look at it.”

“When did you get so philosophical?” I tease.

“Not long after I met you,” he pokes.

I jab him in his ribs.

“Shhh. Quit talking. I need my beauty sleep,” Nathan whines.

Jared and I both fling our bodies, dog-piling Nathan until he surrenders.

By nine, everyone is up and in the dining room having breakfast. We’re out the door and piled into Maggie’s and Jared’s Teslas twenty minutes before our scheduled jump time. A newer trampoline facility just opened up over in Glendale off of Colorado Boulevard, so we don’t have far to drive.

Jimmy and Allen groan the entire drive home and during lunch. After bellies are full from another tasty meal prepared by Anna, everyone seeks out a nap in their designated rooms. Used to the rigorous workout and being well rested, I elect to grab a book and read on the couch. Sadie snuggles up in her usual position with her head on my belly.

A few more pages into reading my book and Joe comes into the living room. He positions himself down the center of the couch resting his shoulders against the same pillow as me. During the next two hours, Joe purposefully bumps into my right arm with his left as he turns a page or changes how he holds his book. He is dying for some attention and I deliberately refuse to give it — specifically to torture him. Clearly frustrated by my lack of response, Joe eventually shifts, laying next to me. I can’t help but laugh at his antics.

“What’s so funny?” he questions.

“Just something in my book,” I fib.

Not much time passes before Joe tries another tactic to gain my attention.

“Am I distracting you?” he asks as he slides his fingers under the edge of my shirt and draws circles on my belly.

“Are you trying to distract me?” I ask, keeping my eyes on my book. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see him grinning.

“Maybe,” Joe replies.

His response intrigues me, so I look at him.

Happy that he gets my attention, Joe changes his answer, “Yes. Is it working?”

I return my gaze to my book before remarking, “Yes.”

“Good,” Joe whispers, continuing to keep my focus off my book. He nuzzles into my shoulder and wraps his arm tighter around my waist.

“I thought we agreed to just be friends?” I remind.

“I didn’t agree to anything,” he defends, placing his lips on the edge of my neck. “You were the one who said just friends.”

My sex salivates at the touch of his lips to my skin. My neck is my weakness — my Achille’s Heel. Pull yourself together, Emma. No need for Joe to know how to get to you.

As I am about to respond to his statement, noise rises in the hallway. Joe immediately moves back to his previous spot on the couch and encourages Sadie to join him. Before I can see who is coming, Jimmy and Allen plop down on the other end of the couch. As tired as they are, their overworked muscles are probably making it hard for them to sleep.