Smart, Sexy and Secretive (30 page)

“
What’s she afraid of?” Paul
asks.

I can’t tell them about her not being
able to read well. Her dyslexia makes it really difficult for her,
and she has trouble even with simple sentences. “She just has some
fears is all.” It’s not my secret to tell. Even to them.

Paul is like a dog with a bone. “You
want to finish college, right?” he asks.

I want a cigarette. I quit smoking when
Matt was sick with cancer, but I still want one at times like
these.

I nod.

“
Then go get a fucking
condom.” His eyebrows draw together sternly. “Fuck. You’ve been
doing it without one.”

I bite back a growl. “She’s on the
fucking pill. Quit being such a dick.”

“
If you don’t use one, you
have about ninety-four percent chance of finishing college. A
ninety-four percent chance of getting a good job that will impress
her father and keep her comfortable. A ninety-four percent chance
of
not getting her fucking
pregnant
!”

“
Ninety-four percent is
worst-case scenario.” I am a rational adult. Right?

Paul growls and yanks at his short
hair. “Listen to me,” he says, leaning forward. “I know you love
her, and, hell, I love her too. And Matt would throw you off a
bridge if he thought he could have her.” Paul chuckles and a grin
he doesn’t want tips his lips.

“
Ew,” Matt complains. “I
don’t like her like that.” He points a finger in my face. “But I
will throw
you
off
a bridge if you hurt her.”

I shove his hand out of my face. “I
wouldn’t hurt her for anything.” I clutch my fist to my chest. “I
felt like part of me was missing when she was gone.” I shake my
head. “I swear to God, I am not sure I could live without
her.”

I look toward my bedroom, and my world
settles knowing she’s in there waiting for me.

“
You’re not going to listen
to me, are you?” Paul asks.

I see my door open, and Emily stalks
out. She’s wearing my shirt, and it comes down to her knees. She
stomps into the kitchen, and I see her lips moving, but I can’t
catch a word. She goes to the drawer, takes a handful of condoms
and carries them back to the room, mumbling to herself the whole
way. When she gets to the door, she holds them out like a prize and
says, “Do you think this is enough?” Then she goes into the bedroom
and slams the door behind her.

“
Well, I’ll be damned,” Paul
says. He drops back heavily against the couch. “I didn’t mean for
her to hear me. “Why is that she always hears me when I don’t want
her to hear me? Fuck,” he breathes.

Matt’s doubled over with laughter.
“That was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen.” He points at Paul.
“She’s so pissed.” He shoves my shoulder. “You’ll be lucky if you
get laid at all.” He laughs like hell. I can’t figure out what’s so
funny. They probably just ruined my night.

“
You are not amusing,” I
say. But a grin tugs at my lips, too. Damn, she was pissed. But she
just solved my problem. “Now we have condoms. A lifetime supply.
Are you happy?”

Paul snaps at me, “I would be happy if
you’d use them.” His face softens. “I am just trying to take care
of you. I would do the same thing for Sam or Pete or
Matt.”

Matt nods dramatically at me. “We’re
all subject to the condom talk. He brought one to me in bed one
time when he realized he didn’t see me go to the
drawer.”

“
And thank God for that,”
Paul bites out. “Because if you’d gotten April pregnant, where
would you be now?”

Matt sobers. “I’d be a fucking father.
Which is something I’ll never be.” He lumbers to his feet. “I’m
going to bed now,” he says. I can feel the weight of his heavy sigh
as it settles around the room.

“
Damn, now you make me wish
I’d let you get her pregnant,” Paul says.

Sometimes we forget how Matt’s life has
changed. He may never get to have kids. He may not even get to have
a life. His future’s undecided. But then, none of us have a
predetermined life span. His is just more precarious.

Paul grabs the tail of Matt’s shirt.
“I’m sorry,” he says when Matt looks back.

Matt squeezes his shoulder and grins.
“Why? Did you give me cancer? No. Cancer is the only one I blame.”
He grins at me. “Now go get Emily pregnant, Logan. Hurry the hell
up.” He slaps his hands together. “Chop, chop.”

“
You sorry fucker,” Paul
says. “If I didn’t love your sorry ass so much, I’d have to hate
you.”

Matt looks down at his watch. “Time’s a
wasting,” he warns.

I laugh. I can’t help it. The look on
Paul’s face is priceless.

Paul swipes a hand down his face again.
“Just be careful,” he says. “Be careful.” He shakes his head like
he has more to say but now he’s talked out.

I lean over and bump fists with him.
“Thank you,” I say. “I love you.”

“
Yeah, yeah,” Paul says,
swiping his hand through the air as though he wants to erase our
conversation. He looks defeated, and I don’t want him to feel that
way. Matt closes the door to his room, and I sit down across from
Paul.

“
I’ve never felt like this
before,” I say.

“
I know,” he admits. “That’s
what worries me.”

“
She’s the one for
me.”

“
I know.” He’s quiet,
contemplative.

“
I’m afraid,” I blurt
out.

“
Of her?”

“
Fuck no. Not of her.” I
point toward my room. “Did you see what she looks like now? Her
fucking earrings cost more than our yearly rent.”

“
All the more reason to use
a condom. Finish school so you can get a good job that will support
her.” He sighs heavily. “I’m preaching to the choir.” He throws his
hands up.

“
We’ve had so much between
us since we met,” I say. I don’t want to talk about it with him.
I’ll talk about it with her. “I can’t explain it.”

“
I get it.” He grabs my knee
and squeezes it. “I understand. You finally got her
back.”

“
She’ll probably make me use
one just for sheer meanness when I go back in there. Do you think
she’s pissed?” I look anxiously toward the door.

Paul just laughs.

“
Her father doesn’t like
me.”

“
He doesn’t know you
yet.”

“
He knows I’m deaf and that
I’m all tatted up.” I look down at my arms. Every single tattoo
means something to me. I wouldn’t erase them if I could.

Paul shrugs. “And neither of those
things makes you bad for his daughter.” He quirks an eyebrow at me.
“Getting her pregnant, on the other hand…” He lets his thoughts
trail off.

“
He brought her ex-boyfriend
to New York to live with her. That’s why she’s here at our
apartment.”

Paul purses his lips like he’s
whistling. “Sorry,” he says, when he remembers I can’t hear
whatever noise he’s making. “That’s shit.”

“
She refused to stay
there.”

“
Good girl,” he says with a
smile. “I knew I liked her.”

“
Her father is going to be a
problem.”

“
Win him over, dumbass,” he
says. “You’re smart. You want to succeed. You’re talented as hell.
And you love his daughter. He’ll get over the tats and you not
being able to hear.” He motions absently toward his ears. I’ve been
deaf so long that my family doesn’t see it as a handicap. Neither
do I.

I push to my feet. “I’m going to bed.”
Paul arches his brow at me. “None of your fucking business,” I
grouse. But I rub his head as I walk by, and he shoves my hip to
get me away from him. “Love you, dumbass,” I say.

“
Love you better,” he
replies. It makes me smile.

I still have a grin on my lips when I
open my bedroom door a crack and stick my head in. I am prepared to
retreat if a shoe or a lamp flies in my direction. But the only
thing I see is Emily sitting on my bed with her guitar across her
lap. Her fingers absently strum the strings, and she twists the
tabs at the top of the guitar. I have no idea what they’re called
or what she’s doing, but she is obviously absorbed in her
task.

She looks up when I step up to the edge
of the bed, and a smile hovers over her lips. “I missed my guitar,”
she says.

She left her guitar with me when she
went back home three months ago. “It missed you too,” I
say.

I sit down on the edge of the bed and
take her in. Her hair is shoved back behind her ears, and her legs
are splayed open. I can see the strip of her pink panties between
her legs, and I lick my lips. I lean forward and pull her toward
me, my hand cupping the back of her neck. I kiss her quickly.
“Sorry about Paul,” I say.

She shrugs. “He cares about you. I
think it’s kind of sweet.” Her face puckers. “Intrusive,” she says.
“But still sweet.”

“
I’ll tell him tomorrow that
you called him sweet. He was worried you’d be angry at him.” There
was a time before she left when she walked up behind him just as he
told me I should fuck her and get it over with. And now this
mistake.

I take off my jeans, lie down on the
bed on my side facing her, and prop my head on my upturned hand, my
elbow pointed toward the wall. “What were you playing?” I
ask.

“
Nothing yet,” she says with
a smile. “I can take requests.”

I shake my head. This is one area where
I can’t bond with her. “I don’t know anything at all about music,”
I say. “Sorry.” I know it’s important to her. Kind of like a
mainstay in her life.

“
You can’t hear this at
all?” she asks. Her fingers strum across the strings again.
“That?”

I shake my head. I wish I could hear
it, but I can’t.

“
Can you hear any music?”
She’s curious. I like that.

I nod. “I can hear the rock bands at
the club. Or rather, I can feel the beat and the rhythm of the song
when rock and roll is playing.”

“
Can you dance?”

I roll my eyes. “Can I dance? You have
to be kidding me.” I motion to my body. “I have rhythm.”

Her face colors. That’s not quite the
rhythm I meant, but I’ll take it. “Someone is thinking naughty
thoughts,” I tease.

I reach for her toe, but she jerks it
back before I can tug on it. “I’m sorry I can’t enjoy your music,”
I confess. “There’s nothing I would like more than to hear you
play. I want to experience everything that makes you happy.” I
shake my head. I don’t usually feel left out of anything, but I do
now.

She sets her guitar on the floor.
“Thanks for hanging onto my guitar for me,” she says, leaning
toward me. She gets up on her hands and knees and crawls
over.

“
Why did you leave it?” I
ask as she rolls herself into my arms.

“
I knew I’d be back. I just
didn’t know when,” she says. “I wanted to be sure you knew,
too.”

“
I knew. The minute you made
your big announcement on TV, I knew.” When she went back home,
there was a press conference and everything. She announced that she
would be coming back to New York. Back to me.

I slide my hand under her shirt to rest
on her waist, and I draw little circles above her panties. I lift
her arm and kiss my way up her tattoo that has my name in it. “The
tattoo helped.”

“
You can thank Paul for
that,” she says, giggling as I tickle her lightly across her
stomach. I slide my hand into the edge of her panties, and she
stills in my arms. “This okay?” I ask.

She nods, drawing her lower lip between
her teeth. “You want to try out one of those cherry-flavored
condoms?” she asks.

“
I don’t particularly care
if my junk smells like pie,” I say. She laughs.

I hook my fingers in the sides of her
panties and pull them down her legs slowly. Her exhale brushes
against my forehead as she lets out a deep breath. She kicks her
feet when I get to her ankles, and her panties go
flying.

I inch her shirt up her belly, placing
quick kisses to all the skin I uncover. Her belly quivers when I
lick the underside of her breast. With a quick jerk, she reaches
down and pulls the shirt over her head. She’s naked. Completely,
delightfully, wonderfully naked.

“
Damn, that’s pretty,” I
say. She giggles, and her stomach ripples.

Her nipples are rosy and tight and
reaching for my mouth, so I don’t hesitate to lick across one of
the turgid peaks. I spread her legs and settle between her thighs.
She taps me on the shoulder, and I look up at her, not breaking the
seal my mouth has on her nipple. Her lips fall open, and I imagine
a sound comes out but I have no idea what it is. I raise my brows
in silent question, wondering why she tapped me.

Emily grabs my shirt at the back and
pulls it over my head. I lift my face from her breast long enough
to help her. She likes my body art, and her hands tickle across my
shoulders as she explores my tattoos with her
fingertips.