Page 81 of Common Grounds

I skate my hand up her side and cup the back of her head, tilting it toward me. “Eyes on me, Emery,” I demand. She keeps her eyes pressed closed, and I can’t be sure, but I think I see her imperceptibly shake her head. I try a different tactic. I slow my rhythm and press a soft kiss to her mouth. “Please, sreco,” I say into her skin. “Let me see those pretty eyes.”

They finally flutter open, and her lips part on an inhale. She looks almost lost, as if looking into her lover’s eyes isn’t something she does often.

“Are you okay?” I pause my movements.

“God, yes. Please don’t stop,” she whimpers, but she keeps her gaze on mine.

She doesn’t have to tell me twice. I move harder and faster, our eyes locked the whole time. When she starts to shake, I know she’s close. I swallow her breathy moans with another kiss as we come together.

***

Emery takes some time cleaning herself up in the bathroom. I quickly wipe the sticky remnants of whipped cream from my body and clean up the counter, and then I pull on my gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt. While she’s still in the bathroom, I plate the waffles and top them with more whipped cream, smiling at the memory of it as I do.

When she emerges, she’s wearing one of my t-shirts and a pair of my boxer briefs. She fills them out perfectly, her gorgeous hips curving under the waistband and her perfect breasts pushing against the fabric of the shirt.

She notices me staring and tugs on the hem of the shirt as she laughs. “I’m sorry. I should have asked before stealing your clothes.”

I shake my head. For a moment, that’s all I can manage. “No,” I croak out. I clear my throat and try again. “You don’t ever have to ask. That’s… you’re…” I run a hand through my hair.

She smiles flirtatiously. “Speechless?”

“Yeah,” I admit. I close the distance between us and kiss her deeply.

“I was disappointed that this fits me like a normal shirt because I’m so tall, but seeing that look on your face is pretty worth it,” she teases.

“It fits you exactly as it’s supposed to fit.”

She kisses me then, and that’s when I know beyond a doubt that I could do this every day. That I want her around me all the time. That I want her to be mine.

“I smell waffles,” she says. “And I’m still starving.”

I lace our fingers together and pull her toward the bed. “Then let’s eat.”

She eyes me skeptically. “I need actual food before we eat other things again.”

A big, spirited laugh escapes me. She’s so unassumingly funny that it catches me off guard. “I thought we could eat breakfast in bed. For dinner.”

“Oh, say less.” She scoots herself up toward the pillows, angled sideways and facing the room. I bring our plates to the bed and sit. She lifts up her feet and puts them in my lap. It’s the most natural movement, but it’s so intimate. I pause for a moment before setting my plate down beside me to adjust to this new side of Emery. I like it. A lot.

We eat our waffles as we chat about things big and small. We laugh so much, and I hang on every word she says. It’s close to midnight by the time her eyelids start drooping, and as she curls herself into my side to rest her head on my chest, I know one thing with a surety I haven’t felt in a long time.

I’m falling for Emery Darlis.

Chapter thirty-one

Emery

I’m falling. A complete free-fall through thin air, and I’m jolted awake with a gasp when I hit the bottom.

I breathe hard, letting my heart catch up with itself. Letting myself remember that I’m in Trevor’s apartment. In his bed. That I didn’t just plummet off the side of a cliff.

I scrub my hands over my face and breathe deeply. Other than the fact that the sun isn’t even peeking through the curtains over the window, I have no way of knowing what time it is. Trevor’s long body is between me and the nightstand where my phone rests, and he isn’t showing signs of waking up. I absently register that it isn’t like me to sleep between someone and the wall. I never really thought about it before, but I guess I like an escape route, or at least an opening to the bathroom.

Then again, I guess it isn’t really like me to sleep next to someone in the first place.

I sigh quietly, my heart finally beating at a more manageable pace. I roll my head toward the dark window and wonder if I’ll ever be able to get back to sleep.

I hate those falling dreams. They feel so real, and the only way out of them is to be jolted awake when you… die, apparently?

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