Текст книги "The Singles"
Автор книги: Emily Snow
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Текущая страница: 39 (всего у книги 45 страниц)
Chapter Sixteen
“He had a heart attack right after he got home from work. In the garage, of all the places. It took my mom awhile to get ahold of me because my stupid phone went dead and I couldn’t turn it on until I borrowed Ella’s charger,” Corinne tells me much later after Kendra has fallen asleep in my bed.
I’m sitting on the floor with my back against the edge of the footboard, facing my roommate. She turns her head from me for a moment, releasing a choked sob. I wrap my arms a little more tightly around my knees and close my eyes.
“I can’t believe he’s gone. I didn’t even get to say goodbye.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, a sharp pain piercing my chest. I hate this. I hate it so much that I hurt for her. “I’m so damn sorry, Corinne.”
“Thank you. And sorry for puking on your shoes.”
“They’re just shoes.”
She doesn’t say another word to me after that, but I can hear her crying into her pillow until finally there’s nothing but silence in the room. My body feels stiff when I push myself to my feet, and I have to practically drag myself out of the room so I can take a shower. Before I retreat into the bathroom, I hear my suitemate’s door open and Lara pokes her head out.
“I know Corinne’s leaving in the morning, but can you let her know that both me and Hannah are keeping her family in our prayers? I know the two of them aren’t on the best of terms, but Hannah’d never wish this on anyone.”
I nod. “I’ll let her know.”
I relay the message to Corinne early the next morning as we sit on the benches just outside our dorm. Her older sister is due to show up at any minute now to take her home until after fall break.
“Tell them I said thanks.” Leaning forward on her forearms, she shakes her head, making her curls fly around her face before she whispers, “I appreciate you staying with me last night. Your best friend is here, and you ended up spending most of your night with me.”
“Trust me, Kendra completely understands.”
“Are you sure?”
I debate with myself for a split second before I tell her, “Kendra was my sister’s best friend growing up.” When Corinne’s green eyes narrow in confusion, I hear her gasp a few seconds after I continue, “My sister died a couple years ago. She was hit by a drunk driver while she was jogging home from cross country practice. So please believe me when I say that Kendra understands. For a long time, it felt like she was the only one who did.”
“Oh God, Evie ... I didn’t know.” Reaching across the bench, she gives my hand a hard squeeze, and when I look over at her, I see there are fresh tears in her eyes.
A minute later, a black Honda SUV pulls up on the curb in front of the building. Corinne releases a sigh and stands up. She grabs her rolling suitcase and gives me the same defeated look I’ve seen while looking at my own reflection way too many times.
“That’s my ride.” Before she can take off to leave, I wrap my arms around her. Over her shoulder, I watch as her sister gets out of the Pilot and walks slowly toward us.
“Be strong,” I say before letting Corinne go. “And if you need anything, call me. You told me before that you’re a good listener, but I can be one too.”
She’s scrubbing her palm over her eyes as she meets her sister halfway on the sidewalk, but the moment she gets into the car I can tell that she breaks down again.
“Is she going to be alright?” Kendra asks me as soon as I’m back in my room.
“God, I hope so,” I whisper, finally realizing that I’m crying myself.
***
The rest of the weekend flies by too fast, and I’m sad to see Kendra go on Sunday, even though we’ll see each other again soon—very briefly on Thanksgiving. I’ve decided against going home for fall break, but then during winter break we’ll each be home for a month.
I don’t have to worry about keeping myself occupied for the next few days because midterms consume all my time. I’m either taking an exam, holed up in my room studying for one, or staring at my sheet music until my eyes cross. By the time my performance midterm rolls around on Thursday, though, I’m done with the rest of my testing.
On my way to the music department’s smaller auditorium to take my exam, I hear footsteps behind mine and when a body brushes up against me, I look up to see Rhys. “Relax,” he tells me.
“I am relaxed.”
Clearly unconvinced, he blocks me from entering the auditorium. “Don’t lie to me. You’re going to nail this. Just remember, eye contact.” He dips his head close to mine so that our noses skim and our gazes lock. “And good posture.” His hand splays over the small of my back, pushing just enough that I stand up straight and my breasts press flatten against his chest. “You look beautiful.”
Wanting to make a good impression, I had dressed with care, in a pair of black flare pants I ordered from Victoria’s Secret using my mom’s credit card, a fitted black and white striped shirt, and pointy toe pumps that give me just enough boost without being high enough to affect my breathing while singing.
“You just wanted to touch me,” I whisper, mostly because I want that to be true, but he shakes his head and smiles.
“I’m not going to play these games with you today, Evelyn.”
The auditorium swings opens and Rhys and I break apart abruptly as Professor Cameron glances out. Heat flames across my skin as her gaze sweeps over us in surprise.
“We’re ready for you, Evelyn,” she says, holding the door open for me. “I hope you don’t mind that Mr. Delane will be observing?” She nods to Rhys, giving him a smile that’s tight at the corners, and I shake my head as I go inside.
Last year, I didn’t even put forth the effort to go to my voice midterm—I slept through it—so I have no idea what to expect when I walk slowly onto the stage. A copy of all my music is already waiting for me in a folder on the music stand, and I nervously finger the edges of the paper.
Not just Professor Cameron, but all five of the vocal department’s professors sit on the second row in front of me, and I can feel their stares burning into me along with the stage lights directly above my head.
Holy hell, no wonder I skipped last year.
Taking in deep breaths, I run my fingertip along the edges of the stand until Professor Cameron’s voice pulls my attention on her. “Please state your name for the grading panel.”
I clear my throat. “Evelyn Phoebe Miller.”
After Cameron asks me a few questions that I’m sure are supposed to make me relax instead of clam up even more, she asks me, and the department pianist, to pull out the first piece of music in the folder—“Vissi d’arte”. We go through the same process for the second song I’ve been rehearsing with Rhys, and as soon as I’m finished, Professor Cameron leans forward in her seat.
“Very nice, thank you, Ms. Miller.”
“That’s it?” I blurt out. No sight singing? No scary ass surprises?
Professor Ackerman, who teaches my Diction course, chuckles and shakes his head. “Would you like for us to make you sing more? I’m sure we can find something for you to perform.”
My surprised gaze meets Rhys’, whose lips flit into a satisfied grin, before I shake my head. “No, thank you,” I murmur before gathering my music and leaving the auditorium. Beads of perspiration dot my forehead, which I wipe off with the back of my hand. I lean against a bulletin board right outside the door, and when it opens, I can smell Rhys’ delicious, exotic scent even before I look over to him.
“You did well,” he says. “And now, to celebrate, you’re coming to dinner with me.”
“Are you asking or telling me?” I laugh past the nervous lump in my throat. I’m on such a high right now from performing that I’ll probably accept either, but he lifts his muscular shoulders.
“Take it however you want, but you’re mine for the next couple hours.”
“Don’t you have papers to grade? Performances to sit in on?”
“You’re my last.” Something about the way he says this in his sexy Southern lilt causes the back of my mouth to go dry.
Straightening my shoulders, I stride over to him, feeling my heart pound harder and faster with every step because of the way he’s grinning at me.
“Alright,” I say softly, “where are we going?”
***
Once we’re outside and he tells me that his car is parked on the other side of campus, I offer to take mine. By the time we reach the Hyundai, the sky has opened up and tiny droplets of rain kiss my face, intermingling with the cool October day and cooling my flushed skin.
“Here,” I tell Rhys and toss him my keys, which he catches effortlessly, even as he cocks a dark eyebrow.
“You must still be rattled from the exam,” he teases as we climb inside and he cranks the car. “You’re not one to give up control like that.”
“Hmm,” I murmur, closing my eyes and taking in a deep breath of relief at being done with exams—at least for the time being. “It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. Mac had me all nervous thinking Cameron would slam me with a big surprise, and then ... nothing.” Opening one eye, I add, “And when it comes to driving in Richmond, I’ll gladly give up control. I get too distracted to deal with traffic.”
Surprisingly, though, he leaves Richmond altogether. I touch my forehead to the cold window and silently listen to the ethereal, haunting sound of Agnes Obel’s voice playing from the radio and the windshield wipers flinging the rain away from outside. I watch the fall colors swirl together as he takes a scenic route to Williamsburg. When we arrive at a little bistro on Main Street around five and we’re seated near a window that gives us a clear view of the storm, I finally speak.
“You know, there are plenty of places we could’ve gone in Richmond,” I tell him as I open my menu. Still, I can’t deny that aroma drifting from the table next to ours makes my mouth water. I’d skipped eating this morning and afternoon so I wouldn’t have a complete Pitch Perfect moment the second I stepped on stage. I’ve regretted my decision to not eat all day.
“You’ll like this place,” he assures me. After we order, we make small talk, focusing on everything from our plans for the long weekend to the aggressive approach he’s planning to take to get me ready for finals in early December, and even to his assessment of my improvement in Sight Singing and Dictation. We talk about everything but the elephant in the room—our attraction to each other—that he doesn’t bring up until our waiter brings the check.
“Here’s what’s gonna happen, Evelyn,” he tells me after he slides his credit card in the thin black binder and places it on the edge of the table. “In a few minutes, I’m taking you back to Richmond, picking my car up, and going back to my apartment. I’m not gonna be at the bar tonight or tomorrow night, and there is nothing I want more than to spend every waking moment naked with you.”
My mouth floods with moisture as he continues, “I’m telling you this because it’s the last time I’m gonna bring up the fact I want you.” He pauses for a moment to hand the waitress the payment before he continues, “Remember that day you told me how I wanted to kiss you?”
I nod, gasping a second later when his hand finds my thigh beneath the table and he cups my sex. “God, Rhys,” I breathe as heat rushes through my body. Carefully, I look around to make sure nobody’s watching us, but they seem oblivious to where his fingers are at the moment.
Giving me a wicked, heart-stopping grin, he gets to the point. “Well, now it’s my turn to tell you what I think. What I said about you and me naked in my bed? You want this too.”
Chapter Seventeen
I do want him. Badly. So much so that I have a hard time sitting comfortably at all during the ride back to Richmond because all I can think about is his hand between my legs and his eyes tracing over my skin, committing each part of me to his memory.
He thinks he’s won, and maybe—maybe he has.
True to his word, an hour later, Rhys drops my car and me off on campus. My legs are trembling as I stalk into my room, and toss my purse and keys on my desk and throw myself on my bed. I stare up at my ceiling.
Did all that really just happen?
There’s a knock at my door, and I prop myself up on my elbows when Lara pokes her head inside. She tilts her head to the side, causing her loose bun to flop forward. “Hannah and me are about to take off for Charlottesville,” she announces and then worries her bottom lip between her teeth. “You sure you don’t want to come home with me? I hate to think of you being all alone here all weekend.”
When I told her last night that I had no plans to go home for fall break, she had stared at me like I was the most pitiful thing she’s ever laid eyes on. Immediately, she invited me to come home with her—much to Hannah’s disappointment—but I had declined. Lara probably thought I had nowhere to go, but my parents had given me several chances to travel with them to Louisville.
Saturday will be two years since Lily’s passing, and Mom and Dad have decided to stay away from Bristol until Wednesday. It’s their way of coping with her being gone, but me being here is mine.
Because there truly is no such thing as escape.
The only way that would happen is if we put Lily out of our minds completely, and that’s not something I’m willing to do to numb away all the hurt.
“Evie ... are you sure?” Lara probes.
“I’ll be fine,” I promise my suitemate with a smile, finally coming to the decision that I’m absolutely not spending the weekend by myself. “See y’all next week.”
As soon as she and Hannah are gone, and I leave a message on Corinne’s voicemail to see how she’s holding up, I shower and get dressed in tight black skinny jeans, a white V-neck that makes my boobs look amazing, and my bright red rain boots. Donning my jacket, I head out into the rain.
***
When he pulls open his apartment door ten minutes later, he stands frozen, staring at me like he’s never seen me before. I clear my throat uncomfortably, wondering if I’ve made a mistake in coming.
He could have changed his mind by now. After all, I hadn’t called to warn him ahead of time. But he looks so good, like he just stepped out of the shower—barefoot, in a basic brown American Apparel t-shirt that clings to his slightly wet skin and jeans—that I have to touch him. Just once, even if he does immediately respond by telling me to get out of his apartment.
Reaching up, I run my fingers through his off-black hair, until he gathers me to him and jerks me inside.
“You weren’t expecting me?” I whisper breathlessly as he pins me up against the door, the impact making me dizzy. Tangling my fingers in his damp hair, I draw his face closer and he kisses me roughly, rolling his tongue around inside my mouth. I’m a mess when he drags his mouth away from mine, but I put on my calmest face. “Oh God, Rhys? Where’s all that confidence?” I wonder.
His hands flare over my hips and around to my butt. Cupping it, he picks me up like I weigh absolutely nothing. I wrap my legs around his waist, and he groans.
“Trust me, it’s all here,” he speaks against my lips, his sweet, minty breath fanning over my skin. “I just didn’t think you’d come this soon.”
I shift my hips, and a thick noise eases from the back of his throat as he moves me up against him and buries his lips to my slim neck. Closing my eyes, I throw my head back, my body on fire as he trails hot little kisses over my collarbone. When I can’t take it anymore, I lower my face to his so that our foreheads touch and my hair covers both our faces.
“I want you, too, Rhys,” I whisper, staring right into his eyes. “Right now.”
The short trip to his bedroom is the longest journey of my life, but once we’re there, he drops me on the bed and looks down at me, his blue-green eyes full of desire. “Goddamn, you’re beautiful.”
My breath lodges somewhere between my chest and throat as I watch him drag his t-shirt over his head and toss it onto the floor. He’s perfection—long, lean muscles covered by tan skin, and tonight that perfection is all mine. Pushing my knees apart, he jerks off my shoes one-by-one before he crawls between my legs. I sit up slightly so that my chest is against his. Fisting my t-shirt in his hand, he kisses me over and over, his mouth hot and wet and delicious as he removes my top.
“I’ve thought about this,” I admit when his fingertips trail under my bra strap. He releases it, and I shiver at the little pinch against my skin. “Too many times to count.”
“And how does it end?”
Cupping the back of my neck, he somehow manages to get my bra off with one hand and discards it. When he pushes me back on the bed, praising how perfect my breasts are, I feel one of the soft, lacy cups beneath my naked skin. “It always ends well,” I murmur and buck my hips so he can drag my jeans down.
Sitting back, he pauses for a moment to take in the sight of me in nothing but the scrap of black and green lacy material covering me.
“Only well?” he questions, his Southern accent lowered to a dangerous whisper. “I’ve gotta fix that then.” Leaning forward, he bends over my body and pulls one of my nipples between his straight white teeth. Sucking hard and fast, he stops just once to grin up at me when a gasp of pleasure rips from the back of my throat.
“That feels—” I shiver when his lips trail over to my other breast, and he circles his tongue around my nipple until it tightens—“mmm.”
“Mmm? You’ve always got so much to say and you’re only response is mmm,” he teases between little torturous flicks of his tongue. As I close my eyes and dig my fingers into his sheets, I try to come up with a witty comeback. When he starts to make a wet path around my breasts and then to my belly button, though, I tell wit and charm to go fuck itself.
I can be witty when my body isn’t about to explode.
“Open your eyes,” he whispers. As soon as I do, he gives me a sensual grin as he stares between my legs. Pressing his lips to my kneecap, his eyes never leave mine as he brushes his knuckles over the center of my panties so slowly it’s agony.
“You are a tease,” I gasp, causing him to laugh against the inside of my leg. “A really big tease.”
“I want to see you tremble,” he quickly counters. “Evelyn?” When I answer with the mmm he finds so damn amusing, he adds, “I want to taste your pussy, beautiful.”
Before he can lower his head, however, I close my knees tightly together and shake my head. Surprised, he looks up at my face. “Kiss me first,” I order and he gives me an impatient stare.
“What do you think I’m trying to do?”
“No,” I whisper even as he begins to move his mouth back up the path it had taken earlier. “You know exactly what I mean,” I say as his hands frame my face. His lips slant down hard over mine, sweet and demanding, so I take this opportunity to get rid of all his extra clothes. I unzip his jeans.
“It’s gonna be hard as hell for you to get those down,” he warns, but I shake my head and wrap my legs around his waist. He alternates between little noises of pleasure and surprise as I use my feet and legs to drag his pants down around his knees along with his boxers.
“See? I’m talented,” I whisper as I feel his erection against my leg. Oh, holy hell. Desperate to feel him in my hand, I thrust my arm between our bodies and run my fingers up and down the length of him.
He responds by racing his hand from my face, to my throat, and then to my breasts. His eyes challenge mine as our fingers tease each other’s body. Finally, relenting, I gasp, “Fine. Fine! Kiss me there!”
Climbing off of me, he smiles in satisfaction and finishes kicking off his jeans. Completely naked, with every inch of his incredible body exposed to me, he tucks his fingers under the low band of my panties and yanks them off.
They disappear somewhere on the bed, but I don’t give them a second thought because a moment later, his face is right between my legs and his tongue is moving inside of me.
“Ohhh, wow,” I cry out, curling my toes and moving my hips to meet the frantic movement of his mouth. “Rhys!” I tremble, and when my legs threaten to close, he spreads them apart and licks me.
“You taste just like I imagined you would,” he informs me between nips and kisses. Sucking roughly until I’m whimpering, he leans back and shakes his head in amazement. “So delicious and all mine.”
I grasp at his muscular shoulders, digging my nails into his flesh. “I need you inside of me.”
Turning his face to the side, he kisses my thigh, his fingertips rough on my hips. “Say it again.”
“Inside of me. Now,” I hiss through clenched teeth, and he chuckles against my damp skin. “You think this is funny?” I demand.
Ignoring my question, he sits up and skims his blue-green eyes over my naked body before questioning me in a low voice, “Tell me how you want it.” He strokes my opening, circling it deliberately with the pad of his thumb. My body jerks to him, pulling his finger inside me just long enough to drive me a little crazier before he draws back. I watch as he rakes his tongue over the tip of his thumb, his expression one of pure bliss. “Tell me, Evelyn.”
“I don’t care,” I pant, and very slowly, he motions for me to turn over. As soon as I’m on my stomach, he presses his lips to the small of my back and gives my ass a hard squeeze.
Leaning over the bed, he fishes around in the nightstand drawer. A moment later, I hear the rip of the condom packet, and I peek around to watch him put it on. Fully prepared, he comes up behind me, gripping my hips and lifting them a little higher. Then, he presses the head of his cock against the opening of my sex.
I’m about to lose control. I am seconds away from coming undone, and here he is denying me the one thing that’ll make everything better.
Looking over my shoulder, I stare at him pleadingly. I open my mouth to tell him how much I want him, but then he pushes himself deep inside my pussy, and I swallow my words.
“Goddamn,” he groans, clutching the headboard with one hand and my hip with the other as he moves within me. “God. Damn.” I bury my face into his pillow and inhale. He’s everywhere now—filling my nose with his delicious scent and my body with his cock—and I am lost.
Owned.
Wrecked.
Releasing a cry from the back of my throat, I lift my hand to the headboard and tangle my fingers with his as he drives himself harder and faster into my body. He nudges my legs as far apart as they’ll go with his and slows his tempo. Steady but still forceful enough to evoke a stream of moans from me. I love this—the sound of skin slapping together and the slick of bodies as our sweat mingles together.
“You want to come, don’t you?” he rasps in my ear, and I shake my head even as I feel the orgasm building deep inside me. “Don’t lie to me, Evelyn.”
Continuing to shake my head, I rock my hips against his, meeting each thrust. We challenge each other like this for a long time—push and pull, moan and sigh—until finally, it’s impossible for me to hold back. When I whisper how close I am to reaching the edge, he moves his fingers from my hip. He touches them to my lips, and I glide my tongue over his thumb before he presses it to my clit, rubbing it in tiny circles until I’m on fire.
“So good,” I sob as he thrusts harder. The release hits me hard and quick, leaving me trembling and grinding my hips against his. He moves my hand from the headboard, pressing both our fingers to my chest so I can feel my heartbeat. He wants me to be fully aware of what he’s done to me. I tighten my pussy around his cock, dragging out a low, animalistic sound from deep within his chest.
“I’ve got to come, baby,” he says. Suddenly, I feel every muscle in his body go taut before he releases. He pumps into my body a few more times, and then he goes perfectly still, breathing heavily. For a long, beautiful moment, we stay like this with our bodies still meshed together. Finally, he races his fingers down my spine and flips me over so we’re facing.
Before I can say a word, his mouth covers mine.
