Page 111 of Practice Makes Perfect
I waketo the sound of someone trying to break down my bedroom door. At least, that’s what it feels like to my sleep-addled brain. I crack one eye open, squinting at the sunlight filtering through my blinds, and my first coherent thought is:Em.
She’s curled against me, still naked, her dark hair fanned across my pillow, breathing softly. One of her legs is thrown over mine, and her arm rests on my chest. The sight of her makes everything inside me go warm and liquid.
Last night races through my mind in vivid snapshots: Em’s body rising above mine, the way her lips parted on a gasp when I moved inside her, the soft confessions we whispered to each other in the dark.
The thought is interrupted as the pounding starts again. “Yo, Linc!” Mike’s voice penetrates the wood. “I’m hitting PB Bagels. You want your usual?”
Em’s eyes flutter open, confusion momentarily clouding them before recognition dawns. “Is that?—”
“Mike,” I confirm, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “The human alarm clock I never asked for.”
A smile touches her lips. “What time is it?”
I glance at my phone. “Eight thirty.”
“Linc!” Mike pounds again. “I know you’re awake, man. I can hear you whispering sweet nothings in there. Bagels, yes or no?”
I groan, letting my head fall back against the pillow. “I should’ve moved in with Maine. He’s usually hungover until atleastnine.”
Em laughs, the sound quiet and intimate in the morning stillness. She props herself up on one elbow, her hair falling in a curtain around her face. The sheet slips down, revealing the curve of her breast, and my mouth goes dry.
“You should answer him,” she says, but makes no move to let me up.
I cup the back of her neck and pull her down for a deep kiss instead. Her lips are soft and warm, and she makes a small, pleased sound that vibrates through me.
“GARCIA!” Mike bellows. “Last call for bagel service!”
I break away with a sigh. “If I kill him, will you visit me in prison?”
“Depends. Do they allow conjugal visits?”
I laugh. “Everything bagel with lox spread!” I call out, then look at Em. “You?”
She blinks, looking almost shy. “Cinnamon raisin with cream cheese.”
I relay her order to Mike, adding, “And coffee.”
“Sure thing, Captain!” Mike’s voice has a teasing lilt to it. “Good morning, Em!”
Em’s cheeks flush a delightful pink. “Oh God. We’re making a habit of this.”
“Well, we may as well get the payoff from your embarrassment…”
She smirks. “He’ll be back soon!”
“Don’t worry,” I assure her, running my fingers through her hair. “He’ll be gone for at least forty minutes. The line at PB Bagels is legendary.”
She peeks up at me. “Forty minutes, huh? What could we possibly do with all that time?”
The flush in her cheeks combined with the suggestive tone in her voice sends heat pooling low in my belly. I trail my hand down her bare back, savoring the softness of her skin.
“I’ve got a few ideas,” I murmur, leaning in to nip at her earlobe. “Mostly involving kissing every inch of your body…”
But instead of melting into me as I expect, Em pulls back, her expression turning serious. “Before we... there’s something I need to tell you,” she says.
A flutter of anxiety tightens my chest. Those words—“I need to tell you something”—rarely precede good news. Did she regret last night? Was this a one-time thing for her?
Em must sense my tension because she immediately curves her hand against my cheek. “It’s nothing bad,” she assures me. “At least, I hope not.”
