Page 74 of Trustfall

“Yeah,” I agree.

We lie there for a few moments, and then I get up and grab a warm washcloth, rubbing it over her stomach in gentle circles, making sure she’s all clean.

“Thanks,” she says, but there’s a hint of hesitation in her voice again. It seems to be a pattern—her shutting down after sex. She sometimes lets me in a little leading up to it, but then after her walls go back up. No doubt, it has something to do with that motherfucking ex of hers, which sends me into a blind rage. I take a calming breath because she doesn’t need my anger right now. She needs my support.

“Hey.” I sit beside her. “I meant every word. You are strong. Whatever it is, you’ll get through it. And when you’re ready, you’ll tell me everything. I’m not going anywhere.”

“What if—” she says in a measured tone. “What if I’m never ready?”

“Then I’m still not going anywhere.”

“Okay.”

“Okay…”

“I want to do this, Luke. Really do this. I want to be your girlfriend.”

“Oh,” I say, feigning awkwardness because I can’t pass up the opportunity to mess with her. “I didn’t ask you to be my girlfriend…”

“No—I mean,” she tries to backpedal. “We don’t have to put a label on it or anything.”

I laugh and kneel on the floor at the edge of the bed. “You didn’t let me finish. I didn’t ask you to be my girlfriend…yet.” I bring my left leg up so now I’m on one knee. “Emory Grace Caldwell, will you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?” I throw in a cheesy smile for good measure.

She giggles and playfully swats my chest. “You’re an idiot.” She shakes her head but can’t hide the smile creeping up her face.

“Sure, but you still didn’t answer my question.”

“Fine.”

“Fine? That’s it? No more gushing over making this official? No more ‘Luke, I’m ready to be your girlfriend,’” I say in a high-pitched, whiny voice.

She laughs again. It’s her most genuine laugh—the kind that makes my chest squeeze so tight that I have to take an extra breath.

But then she looks like she’s lost in thought again.

“Hey, how did you know my middle name?” she asks.

“I told you,” I say. “I know you.”

25

EMORY

I sitdown on the warm, sun-drenched curb, pulling my knees up against my chest. There’s a slight humid breeze and the sky doesn’t have a cloud in it. It’s hard to believe it’s almost summer already. The last few weeks of spring have flown by. I guess that’s what happens when you start a new relationship. Luke and I have been officially dating for two weeks now. And it’s been…pretty damn perfect.

He has dinner ready when I get home from work—Allie has shown him a few things—and it turns out he can actually cook if he sets his mind to it. Then we watch a movie, sometimes making it to the end without ending up entangled in a naked heap on the floor, but usually not.

He makes me come, loud and hard, and all the while I lose myself in his eyes, just like that night I first really saw them in the library all those years ago. I sleep at his house most nights, but Allie and I still have our girls’ nights.Don’t give up everything again.I have to remind myself. We’re also still keeping things on the down-low for the time being. Other than Allie, no one else knows about us.

Jaxon hasn’t contacted me since his last text weeks ago, but I still have my guard up. I casually asked my dad about him at our last family dinner when Nate stepped away to take a call. Dad said he didn't sign on with Caldwell Security. He had to go back to California to put out some fires at the LA branch. He was vague, but I don’t really care. As long as he’s three thousand miles away, I feel a little bit more at ease. I’m not dumb, though. I know he can orchestrate whatever he has planned from afar, so I’m not letting my guard down just yet.

Gravel crunches under tires, and I look up to see Luke’s truck pull up to the curb where I’m sitting. My car is in the shop for maintenance, so he’s picking me up from work today. He rolls his window down, and I see his dark, messy hair falling into his face. He’s wearing a gray T-shirt, his full sleeves of tattoos on display. I lick my lips.

He looks like a damn snack.

“Hi ma’am,” he says in his best Southern drawl. “Any chance you’ve seen my girlfriend? She’s about five-six, brown hair, real pretty.”

A smile pulls at my lips, and I give him my best damsel-in-distress look. “Oh, I haven’t seen her, sir,” I say innocently. “But maybe you could give me a ride. I’m stranded here.” I bat my eyelashes for good measure.

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