Someone asked me if I was going to do longer chapters in the future.
Tell me what you think in the reviews, please :)
Chapter 5.
Irina: I'll be home late… New case is busting my metaphorical balls.
I sigh, towel-drying my hair. The heat of the shower fogs up the bathroom mirror, so I have no clue how much of a rat's nest I'm creating with the heavy scrubbing of the towel.
Tonight's Wednesday, the third night this week Irina's working late, and I hate eating and relaxing alone at night. For about two months now, she's been drowning in work, only coming home at night in time for bed. After my shower, I go make sure all three locks on the doors are secure before lounging on the couch with a blanket thrown over my bare legs.
My phone beeps again, and after I check who it's from, my stomach does this weird flip. I don't acknowledge it. I can't, it's silly.
Emmett: Any dinner recommendations? New in town, hungry as hell and I don't feel like cooking this evening -Em
I bite my lip, watching the cursor in the texting bracket blink. The past few days at work were nice, we talked and talked and I feel oddly comfortable around my new colleague. Garrett seems pleased the two of us get along, and he's proud of me for forming a close-ish bond with someone new. Still, my newfound friendship with Emmett McCarty makes me feel like I'm doing things I shouldn't be doing. Not while I'm in a committed relationship, at least. My love life isn't much to talk about lately, and the passion is low with Irina being gone. I miss the attention I usually get from her.
Garzio's pizza is to die for.
I hold my phone close and feel it vibrate again seconds later with his response. I haven't gotten started on reheating yesterday's leftovers, yet, a fact which is now betraying me. I wait for this exact reply.
Emmett: Want me to bring you a pie?
I don't stall any longer and text Emmett my address. Somehow, I trust him and his kind eyes. I still don't know why I'm so drawn to him, why he captivates me this much.
Emmett: What do you want?
I don't even fucking know...
Surprise me.
About half an hour later, I find myself squeezing into a pair of dark-wash jeans and a bra that doesn't have any oil stains on it, gazing at my reflection in the mirror. My face is bare of the makeup I usually wear. My hair is still slightly damp and wavy from washing it earlier. I don't look put together or particularly beautiful right now, so I rule out the idea that this looks a lot like a date. A date, in the apartment I share with my long-term, committed girlfriend.
I push thoughts of Irina into the back of my head and remind myself I'm not free. I will never be, not for any guy. I'll never again trust a man. I have nothing to give to Emmett McCarty. To anyone. I'm damaged goods.
As the doorbell chimes, I pull a candy-pink, oversized shirt over my head and whip my hair out of the collar. I strut to the door in my socked feet, unlocking each of the elaborate locks. An extremely good-looking Emmett McCarty stands in my hallway, dressed in black on black with heavy-duty boots on his feet that are slightly untied. His jacket is leather with sheepskin and he carries two pizza boxes, balancing them in his left hand. If this is his casual look, I can't even imagine what he'd show up in if this was a date.
"Buona sera," he drawls, making me laugh at his botched Italian accent. I hold open the door, inviting him in.
Emmett's eyes dart around the room, taking in the framed pictures and miscellaneous objects thrown about the condo. I haven't cleaned and it's a little chaotic.
"Who's a pig now, heh?" he jokes as he nods to the pile of laundry on the kitchen floor.
"I planned on doing laundry tonight, but someone decided to make me change my plans for the evening." I nudge his arm playfully, surprised when my fist hits nothing but rock-hard muscle.
"Glad I saved you from that one?"
"You're too cocky for your own good." I roll my eyes and take the boxes from him, setting them down on the kitchen counter.
"Sit down, I'll get you a plate." I nod to the couch, where the blanket still drapes over the cushions after I hastily ran to my closet to change.
"No need for a plate, but I won't say no to a beer." He waggles his eyebrows before sinking down on the couch. It feels odd, seeing his big form sitting in my living room. There are rarely men around our place, except for Garrett or the landlord.
"Your phone is buzzing away, Spice," he calls as I dig into the fridge, retrieving two bottles of beer.
"Spice's phone," I hear him answer it. He's so bold — comfortable, even answering my phone for me.
"Sure, yeah. Just a sec." He gets up and walks over to the kitchen, cradling my phone to his chest. The fabric of his long sleeved flannel stretches over the planes of this pecs, the sleeves slightly pushed up to taunt me with the lines of his tattoo again.
"It's Irina for you," he whispers.
"Hey." I smile into the phone, giving Emmett one of the bottles and walking over to the coffee table, where he'd moved the pizza boxes.
"Yeah, that was Emmett, my colleague I told you about. He just invited himself over for pizza," I say. Emmett shoots me a grin, diving into his heavily-topped pizza.
"Sure, that's fine. Take your time, okay? Love you." I hang up the phone with a frown and throw it against the headrest of the couch, only mere inches away from Emmett's face.
"Hey, what's with the attack?" he asks dramatically, putting one hand over his heart.
"Sorry, just a little pissed off, that's all." I sit down and eye the pizza Emmett got me. It's sausage, mushrooms and loads of cheese — exactly what I like. "Although this pizza sure makes it better." I smile. It even reaches my eyes.
"So, was that your roommate?" Emmett asks, an edge to his voice.
"Yeah, my girlfriend," I admit. A voice in my head hates the fact I just told him I'm dating someone. A girl. That voice confuses me, and I push it away. I watch as realization dawns on Emmett's face, his facial expression giving away his disappointment.
"Oh," is all he responds with. He seems deep in thought, piecing it all together. "Oh, so you guys are like together?"
I nod, giving Emmett a meek smile. I can no longer pretend this is anything but two colleagues having pizza. I stuff my face to distract myself.
Emmett laughs. "Damn, I'm so fucking stupid. Now I get those jokes… You know — cream, cats." He nods his head, an adorable blush spreading over his cheekbones.
"I'm sorry," I say, taking a mouthful of pizza. He waves my apology away, chewing dough and cheese.
"So do you have a girlfriend?" I try. Emmett eyes me with a glimmer in his eyes.
"I basically hit on you all day, had no idea you were dating someone, and wound up at your doorstep in my best clothes and fresh pizza. So no, Spice, I don't have a girlfriend, unfortunately. Single as fuck. Been single for far too long as well. I need to get laid, like yesterday." He rolls his eyes, taking a deep breath. I know he means it as a joke, but part of me feels guilty — like I've been leading him on. Just like that, I'm one of the boys again, part of the daily conversations about vaginas, porn, and girls. I smile bitterly, trying to hide it as the savory toppings ease my mind.
Poor Emmett *sighs*