Page 83 of The Emerson Effect
He cocks his head and locks eyes with me. “Whydidyou ask?”
I blow out a long breath, saying, “It’s just a vibe I got from Stone and Mason. I was a bit overwhelmed to discover how identically gorgeous they are, and I think they took it the wrong way. Like, they thought I was about to come on to them, or something. And they were ready to rip me a new one if I so much as hinted at it.”
He relaxes a bit and nods. “It’s happened more than once.”
Incredulity has my eyes flying wide. I know I suspected as much, but I still can’t believe it’s true.
“But…why? Is it the twin thing?”
“What do you mean?” he asks, his face scrunching with confusion.
“I mean, why would any woman alive want either of them when they already have you?”
He takes my coffee from me, sets both cups down on the dresser, and tackles me to the bed. I shout in surprise, then go totally silent as he hovers over me, a smile on his lips and a sparkle in his eyes. A mere moment later, he’s kissing me like he’s starved for it.
Well, I guess he liked my answer.
And just for a moment, I let go of my worries and doubts. I kiss him back like I mean it.
Because, of course, I really do.
FORTY-EIGHT
Emerson
After Twila and I both shower––separately, unfortunately––and get dressed for the day, we head downstairs to grab some breakfast and figure out a plan for today. When we get to the kitchen, we find all three of my roommates at the table, eating platefuls of French toast and bacon. There are two extra place settings for Twila and me and platters of food in the center for us to serve ourselves from.
“Wow,” I say as I hold Twila’s chair for her. “I think this is a first.”
“What?” Ritchie asks, taking a swig from his glass of juice.
“You guys have never cooked a family-style breakfast like this,” I explain for Twila’s benefit. “It’s usually just protein shakes or leftovers from last night’s dinner.”
“We have a guest,” Stone says, flashing Twila a smile.
It’s genuine and not flirty at all, and even if it were, it wouldn’t get under my skin. Not after Twila’s appalled reactionwhen I told her some women would prefer any of these guys to me. She’s apparently unaffected by their appeal.
“And we wanted to talk to Twila,” Mason adds.
“Oh, yeah?” she asks, a smile curling at the corners of her mouth. “About what?”
“We’ll do it,” Ritchie says. “The BingBang thing. We’ll do it if you post it to your account, not Emerson’s.”
“Yes!” she shouts, pumping a fist, “I knew you’d all come around. I have so many ideas.”
She enthralls my roommates with her enthusiasm, and I, myself, am not immune to her charms. Everyone gets into it, tossing out ideas and tweaks to make the perfect introduction video, and before I know it, all of the food has been consumed, and we’re setting up my ring light tripod in the living room.
Twila’s vibrating with excitement. This isn’t a job to her. She genuinelywantsto help my friends.
God, that makes me love her more than I––
Wait. What?Love? Why is my internal dialogue using that word?
I blow out a long breath and close my eyes. Love is therightword.That’swhy I thought it. But I’ll be keeping that little four-letter word to myself, for now. I don’t want to scare Twila away. I know we shouldn’t stay married––that would be ridiculous, wouldn’t it? But I do want to keep her in my life. As my girlfriend.
Until I propose a real marriage, that is.
And I know I will. I feel it in my heart. In my bones. In every muscle and joint in my body.
