Page 109 of Blitzing Emily

“Why not? We’re adults. We can do anything we want.”

“You might get bored,” he teased. “No schedule, no agents, nothing else to do? We’d be forced to make love all day every day, and gather enough food to keep us going. Sounds rugged. I don’t know if you could keep up the pace.”

She pushed him onto his back, and rolled atop him. “Shut up and kiss me, bruiser.”

DAWN’S SOFT LIGHTilluminated Emily’s room as she awoke. Brandon slept on, the sheet twisted around his hips, one hand tucked under his pillow. He’d flung his other arm around her. Blond stubble covered his chin and a slight flush colored his cheekbones. His long lashes looked oddly delicate on him. His skin was golden in the morning light. The scent of roses was almost overpowering. Emily knew she would never smell roses again without remembering last night.

She disengaged herself carefully from under his arm and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She smiled as the rose petals fell off her and onto the floor. He stirred, but didn’t open his eyes. She stood up, leaned over the bed, and carefully brushed the errant curl on his forehead back with her fingertips.

“Sleep, baby,” she whispered.

“Mmph.” He rolled onto his stomach. His butt was as gorgeous as the rest of him. She couldn’t resist patting it before she padded into the bathroom.

After taking care of the morning business, she was reaching in to flip the shower on when the telephone rang. Fearing it would wake Brandon, she hurried back into the bedroom to answer it. The caller ID revealed it was Amy.

“Kinda early for a social call,” she stage-whispered into the receiver.

“Is Brandon still there?” Amy asked.

“He’s sleeping. Thanks for the rose petals, you weirdo.”

Amy’s laugh sounded more like a choke.

Brandon’s arm snaked around Emily’s waist, and she heard his sleepy whisper: “Come back to bed, sugar.”

“Just a sec,” Emily murmured to him. “What’s up?”

“Anastasia’s on ESPN. She’s pregnant.”

“Well, that was fast. Good for her.”

“No, Em. She says she’s seven months pregnant. She says Brandon is the father.”

Brandon wrapped his arms around Emily’s waist, and kissed the small of her back. She stood up and moved away from him.

“Excuse me?”

“Turn on the TV.”

“This can’t be true,” Emily said.

“Call me back.”

Emily hung up the phone in a daze. She went into the bathroom and shut the door. Brandon opened it, sticking his head in.

“What happened?” he said.

She sat on the toilet lid, turning her face away from him. In two steps he was in the bathroom, on his knees in front of her.

“Sugar, talk to me.”

“Did you call her ‘sugar,’ too?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said.

“Anastasia. She’s pregnant.” Emily tried to do math in her head. They met in February. It was now almost September. Anastasia could not be seven months pregnant unless she and Brandon—it was too awful to think about. They would have slept together after he and Emily announced their engagement. In other words, he cheated.

“Listen to me. Anastasia doesn’t matter to me. We broke up.” Brandon wrapped his arms around her. She pushed him away. “I don’t understand why you’re doing this. Talk to me.”

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