Page 29 of Ramsey & Emerson

This time, she was flapping her hand around, all unconcerned. “Nate and I have an understanding,” she answered. “Trust me when I tell you that he’s not keeping his dick dry waiting around for little, ol’ me.”

We finished our lunch and managed to do it without uttering Ramsey Reed’s name again. I’d also meant what I’d said earlier. I wasn’t scared, but I didn’t consider myself stupid, either. I knew that I was going to have to watch my back.

Chapter 17

Ramsey~

It wasn’t working.

Or it could also be that patience just wasn’t my strong suit.

Either way, Emerson was holding out a lot stronger than I’d thought that she would be, and it wasn’t working out for me.

Deke had also been right.

It was maddening to hear people talk about Emerson the way that they were. Since Monday, I had witnessed students calling her names, shoulder checking her, throwing garbage in her direction, and the worst of it, guys making lewd gestures at her and telling her all the ways that they wanted to fuck her. A couple of times, Liam and Deke had held me hostage in the restroom because I’d been on the verge of breaking someone’s neck. Unfortunately for me, Emerson should have been irritated enough by now to have come to me, but her stubborn little ass was trying to hold out to the bitter end.

This fucking girl.

I’d had Deke keep tabs on her during fourth period, then had made him text me which direction she’d gone in after class because I needed to push this thing along.

Plus, I missed her.

I missed her scent.

I missed her closeness.

Fuck me if I didn’t also miss that fire in her eyes.

I hung back behind the right hallway leading towards the library, waiting for her. The eatery pavilion was to the left, and thanks to Deke, I knew that she’d be coming this way. Liam had fourth period with Roselyn, so I had texted him to keep her occupied, so that Emerson would be alone on her way to lunch.

As soon as I saw the girl walking down the hallway, I stepped out, then snatched her by her arm, dragging her towards me and down the hallway. I didn’t stop until I had her behind the library building. I turned her around, then slammed her up against the wall, towering over her, and I really despised how beautiful she was in this moment.

“You’ve had enough yet?” I asked.

Emerson laughed.

She fucking laughed in my face, and I cursed my weakness.

Then she straightened her spine, looking me in my eyes. “Had enough of what, Ramsey?”

I couldn’t help myself. I reached out, then placed my hand flat against her chest. She didn’t stop me, either. Not even when my hand slid down lower and lower until it ran down over her right tit. I let my hand travel further south until it was resting on her hip, and my dick was harder than concrete.

My gaze never wavered from hers. “So, you like being called a whore and having trash thrown at you?”

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that I don’t care what any of you think of me,” she retorted. “So what if everyone thinks I’m a whore?” she asked right before she went for my jugular. “It’ll make it all that much easier when Idostart spreading my legs for whoever catches my eye.”

I could feel my teeth grind, my right fist clenching in frustration. It didn’t matter if she was lying or not about her intentions, the thought of another guy touching her hazed my vision. Still, I wasn’t going to back down. Icouldn’tafford to back down when it came to this girl.

“Oh, yeah?” The words were like acid burning my soul, but I said them anyway. “If that’s the way you want to play it, just make sure that you’re using protection. Wouldn’t want any little bastards being thrown into the mix now, would we?”

“Don’t worry, Ramsey, I’m not that careless,” she threw out caustically. “Besides, I have no problem swallowing their loads if it comes down to it.”

I sunk my fingers into her hipbone until she winced out a yelp. Emerson had no idea what her smart mouth was doing to me. She did not understand that with every word that left her mouth she was forging a bond between us that was stronger than anything else that she’d come across. She was cementing herself to me, and she was cementing herself to mefor fucking life.

Ask anyone, and most people would tell you that eighteen-year-olds couldn’t make that kind of commitment. Most grownups would tell you that an eighteen-year-old didn’t know their own mind yet. There was no way that an eighteen-year-old should contemplate commitments of forever. That eighteen years of living was nothing compared to the remaining sixty years that were left. Still, I wasn’t most eighteen-year-olds.

Emerson didn’t have a say in which direction her life was going to go, either. It was going to go in the same direction as mine, whether she wanted it to or not. While it’d only been two weeks, the only reason that she wasn’tmarried to me now was because she wasn’t eighteen yet. Her school files claimed that she wouldn’t be eighteen for another couple of days.

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