Page 33 of Bad Call
I lean against the doorframe,arms crossed over my chest as I watch Stella sift through her suitcase. She’s wrapped in a fluffy robe, her long brown locks still wet from our morning shower. We had an amazing night with Arden, Hawk, and Jackson, laughing and playing board games until we were completely exhausted. I carried Stella up to our room, dropping soft kisses all over her body until she was so worked up that she begged me to fuck her. Of course, I obliged, feeding her every inch of my cock with a hand over her mouth to muffle the moans that poured out.
She turns, likely to close herself in so she can get dressed, but stops when she sees me staring like a creep. A smirk pulls at her lips, her sweet pink tongue darting out to wet them. My eyes fall to the movement, wondering if we have time for a quick blowjob before we head out for the day. But as always, she reads my mind, popping a hip out as she points a finger in my direction.
“Not again, Hayes,” she says, a perfectly manicured brow lifting in defiance. “We have people waiting on us today. The free use agreement is on pause until we get back this evening. Then, if you want me on my knees, I’ll gladly obey.”
“Damn right, you will,” I growl playfully, stalking toward her until I’m close enough to reach out and yank her body into mine. She squeals as I bury my face in her neck, nipping and licking at the soft skin. I can’t get enough of her—her sweet scent, the way she fits in my arms—and it’s only getting stronger with each day that passes. It’s like a piece of the old Emmett Hayes is being returned to me every time I breathe her in, the closed-off, hopeless man I allowed myself to become merely a blip in my existence. This is who I want to be…it’s where I belong.
“Okay, let me finish getting ready.” She giggles, pressing a kiss to my cheek before backing away. Reluctantly, I allow it, shoving my hands into the pockets of my jeans as she pulls a pair of leggings and a thick sweater from her bag. The forecast is calling for a chilly day, and I’m already looking forward to cuddling up with her later on. But first, we’re heading out with Arden and the guys for lunch.
Although we grew up less than ten miles from here, Fallswood Hills has changed so much since we all left. Where it was nearly desolate before, it’s been completely revamped, becoming quite the tourist attraction. It’s usually busiest around the holidays, but visiting this time of year is probably better for us, anyway. As much as weall love interacting with fans, we still want to enjoy a bit of normalcy. Plus, we’re far enough outside of Tinsville that I won’t have to worry about crossing paths with my parents, who I avoid at all costs. I went no-contact over their dismissal of my relationship with Stella, and I refuse to let them ruin such a happy time now that we’re back in each other’s lives.
“Do I look all right?” she asks softly, spinning around and giving me an eyeful of her outfit. The baby pink sweater is perfectly her, draping over her flawless curves. She looks just as good in the color now as she did when we were teenagers, and I’m filled with gratitude to have memories of both. We may have lost some years in between, but I’d say we’re doing a pretty good job of making up for it now.
The past is gone, but our future is right in front of us.
Two hours later, we’re leisurely making our way down the sidewalk, Stella’s delicate fingers laced with mine as she wanders. I’m just along for the ride, her shopping bags clutched in my free hand while she pulls me from shop to shop. She’s like a whirling dervish, unable to focus on one thing at a time before the next shiny item grabs her attention. She’s currently on a mission for a new dress, after receiving a text from Livvy Grant asking us if we wanted to join them for a night out at Club Tilt next Friday. Apparently, the other three dresses she purchased already aren’t right for the occasion. Could’ve fooled me, because she looked smoking hot in every one of them.
We lost Arden, Jackson, and Hawk about three doors back, when they disappeared into a little café for refreshments. My Wild Girl is in her element, though, so I’m doing what a good husband does and gassing her up every time she tries something on.
That word still rolls around in my head so naturally, even though we haven’t labeled what we are. I’ll admit I hate the thought of going back to being her boyfriend, despite it being the next logical step in moving forward. Thankfully, it’s all just semantics and legalities, because married or not, we’re still Emmett and Stella Hayes. The best gift she’s ever given me was taking my last name—and keeping it through all the storms we’ve weathered.
“Em!” she gasps, pausing in front of what looks to be a luxury clothing boutique. Her eyes light up, locking onto the long-sleeved, sequined mini dress that’s displayed front and center. She looks over to me, a bright smile stretched across her beautiful face, and I know she’s foundthe one.
“C’mon,” I say with a grin, pulling the door open and ushering her inside. As I suspected, it’s filled from one end to the other with high-end items. Fancy chandeliers twinkle overhead, softly illuminating the light blue area rugs and velvet furniture. Racks of clothing, shoes, and handbags are purposefully placed throughout the main area, causing Stella’s eyes to ping-pong back and forth as though she can’t decide where she wants to go first.
“Welcome to Bellezza Divina,” a young, dark-haired woman says, her tall stilettos clacking against the floor as she approaches. Her sleek black pantsuit screams sophistication, but the row of colorful beaded friendship braceletson her wrist tells me that she’s probably more relatable than her outfit leads on. “I’m Alessia. What brings you in today?” She reaches out, shaking our hands in greeting. If she recognizes me in any way, she doesn’t let on, focusing her attention solely on my girl as she awaits an answer.
“The silver dress in the window,” Stella states, tossing a thumb over her shoulder. “I’d love to try it on.”
Alessia’s eyes widen with excitement, both hands shooting up to her chest as though she’s about to tell us an epic love story. “Isn’t it beautiful?” she sighs. “It’s couture, straight off the runway of Milan Fashion Week. I’ve been saving up for one from the same designer, although I’m not sure what I’d wear it for.” Her smile beams, her espresso-colored curls bouncing on her shoulders as she perks up. “It would look amazing on you! Let me get a dressing room set up!”
She hurries away, humming a blissful tune as she heads toward the back of the boutique. I look down, noticing the way Stella’s teeth are sunk deep into her plump bottom lip, brows pulled tight with worry. Without even having to ask, I immediately know what’s wrong. The dress is from Italy, which means the price tag is probably steeper than she expected when we walked in here. The other shops were very affordable, but this one is clearly on another level. Fuck that, though. I’ve dreamed of this moment since I was barely eighteen, ready to embark on several years of a long-distance relationship with my eyes on the prize.
Well, here it is. This is my prize.
“This one’s on me, Wild Girl,” I say, emotion tighteningmy throat. I know it’s just a dress, and that she’d have no problem finding something else to wear, but I’ve always wanted to provide for her—to give her the world.
She shakes her head, turning so we’re facing one another. “Emmett, no. That dress is probably thousands of dollars. I’ll wear one of the others. You’re not wasting that much money on me.”
“Please,” I beg. “This was the plan, right? You, becoming a kick-ass nurse and making a difference in the lives of people who need you. Me, making it to the NFL and giving my wife all the pretty things she deserves.” I reach out, cupping her soft cheeks in my palms. “We fucking did it, baby. So, let me buy you the dress, shoes, bag, and whatever the hell else you want. Absolutely nothing would make me happier.”
“Okay,” she whispers, eyes twinkling with unshed tears. “But just so you know, I don’t need fancy things. Just being yours is more than enough for me. It always has been.”
I dip down, pressing my lips to hers in a soft kiss. “I love you. And I can’t wait to show you off on Friday in your new dress.” Pulling out my wallet, I hand her my credit card. She reluctantly takes it just as Alessia emerges from the dressing area, which is my cue to leave this girly motherfucker and go get some caffeine. She’s in good hands—she definitely doesn’t need me here.
My chest swells with pride all the way to the café, where Arden and the guys are sitting at a table enjoying their food. As I wait for my order, I reflect on what a great day it’s been so far, and how good it feels to finally beliving the life I always dreamed of with Stella by my side. Visions of her stepping out of the boutique, arms full of bags and a smile on her face, play on repeat in my head, gratefulness washing over me like a warm wave. The journey to today may have almost killed us, but we’re here, and nothing could be better.
THIRTY-ONE
STELLA
“That’ll bethree thousand fourteen dollars and seventy-seven cents,” Alessia says, her perfectly manicured nails tapping against the tablet in front of her. She looks around, lifting a devious brow as she lowers her voice. “I gave you ten percent off because I’m living vicariously through you with this entire ensemble. Don’t tell anyone.”
I laugh, my cheeks hurting from how much she’s had me in stitches for the last thirty minutes. Her mother owns the boutique but left her in charge while traveling the world for new pieces. They come from generations of wealth, deciding to settle here in Fallswood Hills after seeing how quaint, yet affluent, the area has become. I have to admit, it’s like another planet with the sweeping range of things to see and do, and the variety of visitors that come from all over to experience it.
I swipe Emmett’s card, anxiety plucking at my nerves like guitar strings, even though he told me to buy whatever I wanted. Wedidtalk about all of this when we werein high school, but those were just the pipe dreams of two kids who had the world in the palms of their hands. He’s right, though. Somehow, through all the ups and downs, we’re exactly where we said we’d be. Sure, we still have a little bit of a road ahead of us before we’ve achieved everything, but that’s okay. We’ll get there.
She prints a receipt, tucks it into the box with my brand-new shoes, and walks around the counter to hand me the bags. “I hope you have an amazing time next weekend, Stella,” she says, wrapping her small arms around me. I reciprocate the hug as best as I can with one arm full, chuckling to myself because I feel like we’ve known each other a lot longer than a half-hour.
