Page 60 of Brat Baby
“Emery.”
That’s it. My name, in a clipped and monotone voice. My heart sinks into my stomach just from the sound of his voice. Not to mention the unimpressed edge that cuts my name short.
So, I do what any good brat does. I mimic him.
“Derek.”
Darcy’s grin has taken over his face, so I stick my tongue out at him. This only makes him laugh, silently, and I end up being jostled around on his chest. I try to shoot him a “stay still” look, but apparently my powers of telepathy aren’t that great.
When no other words are forthcoming from the phone, I decide to change directions, even though this one sets my nervous system on fire.
“Thank you for the food. On the weekend,” I clarify, in case his dark mood gets in the way of him putting two and two together. “Everything was super yum, except for that green smoothie.”
There is another pause, but then…
“Vegetables keep you healthy.”
I can’t help but grin when I hear his exasperation.
“I eat them in my food. And I promise, when I go to the dining hall, I always grab a piece of fruit for a snack between classes.”
The pause is still there but shorter. Like he knows I have already won this round and is purely playing along to move on to the next one.
“Good. That’s… that’s good.”
“Did you want to talk to Darcy? I saw that you’ve already tried calling him twenty-one times. Was it something important?”
Darcy’s cheeks go red from holding in his laugh. He throws his forearm over his face, and now his laughter is making me slip right off his chest.
“Twenty—No, it’s fine. Just tell him the rest of us are playing, and if he isn’t here before we hit the one-two blinds, then he forfeits his play tonight.”
I raise an eyebrow at Darcy, even though he can’t see me. “Did you hear that?”
“Yeah.”
Pushing up to sitting, I straddle him, one leg hanging completely off the side, toes nowhere near the floor. Luckily for Darcy, he managed to get my panties back on me while I was passed out. Otherwise, his shirt would not be faring very well right now. “He’ll be there.”
That makes him drop his arm and shoot me a confused look.
“Fine. Good night, Emery.”
“Good night, Big D.”
The line goes more than silent this time before the call ends.
Which is good, because Darcy can’t seem to hold in his laughter anymore. Full-on belly laughs have me riding him like a wild bronco. “Big D? Damn, that works on so many levels. Why didn’t I think of that?”
My cheeks burn because I have zero idea where that even came from, but since I’m not allowed to call himDaddyright now, that was the first thing that came to mind. Needing a little space,I wiggle around until my foot connects with the floor and then I push off of him.
I turn in a circle, trying to spot if he brought the rest of my stuff into the room and, yep, it’s all on the chair closest to his office door. But before I go to the pile, I want one more glimpse of his drawing of me, but in the light this time.
Gently, I lift the canvas from the easel and bring it into the light. Even though this is the second time I’m seeing it, my reaction is in no way diminished. Like someone is slowly undoing the zipper on my chest and exposing my insides to the world, I let every emotion that surges through me flow until I’m drowning in all the sensations.
How is one person so incredibly talented?
I’m so absorbed in seeking out every single detail, I fail to notice when Darcy got up from the couch. His presence behind me as he wraps his arms around my middle jolts me in place.
“You are incredibly easy to draw,” he whispers. “I could spend every day drawing you, and it wouldn’t be enough. If I could cover every single wall in my house with sketches of you, I would. I think you might be my muse.”
