Page 61 of Engulfing Emma

Brett

Emma nudges me when I start to fall asleep. “You have to go.”

I look at the clock. It’s just after midnight. “You’re not a cuddler, are you?”

“No, so if that’s what you want, you’re looking in the wrong place.”

“I’m not sure what I want,” I say. “It’s been a long time since I did this.”

She rises on an elbow. “Are you telling me I was your first since Amanda?”

I nod. “How long has it been for you?” I quickly put my finger to her lips to stop her from speaking. “Wait—I’m not sure I want you to answer that. I think I’d like to remain blissfully unaware.”

“Shh,” she says when I get too loud.

I sit up and pull my pants on. That's when I notice the pile of clothes draped across the chair in the corner. Nice stuff, like the sundress she wore tonight. It makes me smile to think she couldn’t decide what to wear for ournon-date.

She gets out of bed, puts on a robe, and eases open the door. She listens for a moment, then goes into the hall and looks down the stairs. “The coast is clear. Please be quiet. And lock the door on your way out.”

“You’re not walking me to the door?” I whisper.

“I’m pretty sure you don’t need an escort, Brett.”

“When can I see you again?”

“When you look out your window,” she whispers. “Now go. They’ll hear us.”

I hesitate, wanting to get a better read on the situation, but now is not the time for that conversation. I lean in and give her a peck on the cheek. “Bye, Emma. Thanks for tonight.”

She smiles, but it doesn’t touch her eyes. Once again I wonder if she regrets sleeping with me. After she sees me descending the stairs, she shuts her bedroom door.

I don’t get it. One minute she’s telling me she can’t date a firefighter, and the next we’re in bed together. Maybe she doesn’t want to date. Maybe she just wants to fuck. If so, am I okay with that?

As I’m pondering my question, I reach for the front door. But then I catch movement to my left and look over to find a girl staring at me from a doorway.Shit, Evelyn.

She knows I’ve seen her. I can hardly walk out without acknowledging her. “Hey there,” I say quietly.

She opens her door fully and steps into the moonlit foyer. “Are you my mom’s boyfriend?”

I nod to the stairs. “I don’t think you were supposed to see me.”

“So, you’re not her boyfriend?”

Something about this girl is familiar. “Do I know you?”

She flicks on the light, and I look apprehensively up the stairs.

“Don’t worry. She’s in the shower,” the girl says. “She doesn’t ever come down after.”

I try to ignore the implication of that statement when I recognize this is the girl I saw with the Pop-Tarts and coffee at the store a few weeks ago. It dawns on me that’s also why Emma looked familiar. She was the one staring at Leo.“You’reEvelyn?” I ask, keeping my voice low.

She steps forward and offers me her hand. “Evie. My mom’s the only one who calls me Evelyn.”

“Evie. Right.” I shake her hand. “We met before. At the corner store.”

“You’re Leo’s dad,” she says. Then she motions up the stairs. “I’m going to assume he doesn’t have a mom or you’d be a pretty terrible human.”

I laugh. “Leo’s mom and I are divorced. Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

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