The world grinds to a halt around me as he produces a simple black ring box. I stare at the tiny gift, my mind and heart making the obvious leap. Emerson watches my jaw hit the floor and rushes to assure me.
“Oh god. Don’t worry. I wouldn’t do that to you,” he laughs.
“Right,” I breathe, “Of course.”
He goes to hand me the box, but at the last second holds it up over his head, out of my reach. His favorite old joke from when we were kids. And given that he’s got even more height on me now, the joke holds. I give him a playful shove, and he finally hands the box to me.
My hands tremble as I force a placid smile onto my face and open the ring box. Am I relieved that he didn’t just whip out an engagement ring, or was some ridiculous little corner of my mind hoping that he was going to? Whatever the case may be, the question fades out of my mind as I lift the lid of the box and see what’s inside.
It’s a delicate silver ring, set with one gleaming freshwater pearl. I know I’ve seen this ring before. But where?
“When we were at the beach for our birthdays, all those years ago,” Emerson says, watching me intently, “We stopped at that one shop you liked so much in town, with all those handmade crafts and things. You stared at this ring for a good five minutes, just admiring it. You didn’t say anything, of course, but I knew you loved it. I waited until you were trying things on in the dressing room and bought it for you. For your eighteenth birthday. But with everything that actually ended up happening that day...I never got a chance to give it to you. Well. Until now, that is.”
“You’ve...held onto this the whole time?” I whisper, looking up at him in wonder, “You’ve had this ring for eight years, Emerson?”
“I guess some part of me always hoped I’d have the chance to give it to you someday,” he says softly. “And would you look at that? Here you are.”
“Here I am,” I smile.
“I never forgot about you, Abby,” he says, resting a hand on mine, “Not for a second. Through every other relationship, and date, and fling, I always had you at the back of my mind. No one ever measured up to you. I’m not blaming you for my lack of committed relationships, of course. It’s just...I never wanted to settle down with anyone else. Because the person I really cared about was still out there. Only, I’d already met and lost her.”
“You didn’t lose me,” I whisper, lacing my fingers through his. “We just...misplaced each other for a while.”
“I’ll take that,” he smiles, inching toward me.
I force myself to take a deep breath as we move closer, and closer. The heat and nearness of him are making my head spin, and that’s not all. I clench my thighs together, acutely aware of the throbbing need building between my legs. Just being close to him, alone in this room, is enough to turn me on. It dawns on me, for the first time, that I don’t have say “no” in this moment. Nothing is stopping me from being with Emerson the way I want to be.
“God, I’ve missed you,” Emerson murmurs fiercely, catching my face in hands.
“Well. You know how I feel about showing and telling, Sawyer,” I whisper, my voice low and rasping with want.
“That I do,” he grins, those blue eyes mere inches from mine.
And with that, he tugs me tightly against him and brings his mouth to mine. I bend my body to his, opening myself without a second thought. The familiar taste of him, still the same after all these years, sets the synapses of my brain sparking, dredging up a million memories. My every barrier and defense goes crumbling down as I run my fingers through his now-cropped brown hair. I press my body flush against his as I feel his tongue sweep against mine. He kisses me swiftly, ferociously, and I match his intensity at every stroke. Now that we’ve given ourselves the permission to touch and be touched by each other, there’s no stopping us.
“No one’s ever made me feel the way you do,” I gasp, as Emerson pulls me onto his lap, kissing down along my throat.
“I just know you, Abby,” he growls, his hands running down the length of my body. “My god, you feel exactly the same. The way your body moves, the way you respond to me...”
“I’ve missed these hands,” I groan softly, as Emerson brushes his fingers against my tender inner thigh, runs his hands over the rise of my ass.
“They’ve missed you,” he smiles devilishly, catching my lips in his once more.
I can’t keep my hips from grinding against his as I straddle him on the couch. Our tongues glide against each other, twisting and caressing like I wish our limbs could, right this second. My breath comes hard and fast as that throbbing between my legs grows more intense—more intent on getting what it wants. I can already feel myself getting wet for him as he pulls me flush against him—lets me feel the telltale rise in his jeans.
“No one’s ever known how to turn me on like you do, either,” he says, his fierce blue eyes hard on my face.
“I can’t believe we’ve gone so long without this,” I breathe, taking his gorgeous, sculpted face in my hands.
“We don’t have to wait any longer,” he replies, turning his face to lay a kiss against my palm. “Not if you don’t want to.”
“I don’t want to,” I whisper, letting my sex rub ever-so-lightly against his stiff cock.
The feel of him pressing hard against me brings a sudden, untempered cry to my lips. I just can’t help myself as I feel the staggering bulk of him brush against my aching clit, even through layers of clothing. The second my moan escapes into the air, my eyes go wide. I clasp my hands over my mouth, but it’s too late. Riley’s bedroom door flies open, and I scramble off of Emerson’s lap as she appears in the doorway in full action mode. I’m surprised she isn’t carrying a frying pan or something.
“Are you OK?” she demands, taking in the scene.
“Oh, sure!” I laugh dementedly, leaping off of the couch. “We’re fine! Sorry!”
My best friend sees Emerson’s flabbergasted, frustrated expression, not to mention the tousled state of my hair and clothes, and puts two and two together. Her game face is replaced by a knowing grin.
“I thought I heard you scream,” she says, feigning innocence. “I didn’t mean to interrupt anything, or—”