Farm Girl Has Bad Boy (#3)

Chapter Twenty

“Emery?” I whisper, squinting in the dark. The figure’s head slowly moves up and I see a grin spread across Emery’s lips.

“Who else would I be?” He laughs lightly, his voice not as quiet as it should be.

“You have to be quiet or you’ll wake the others,” I murmur, heading towards him.

“But I don’t want to be quiet,” he whines as I attempt to help him to his feet. “I want to be Emery.”

“Are you drunk?” I ask, realizing he’s not even trying to get to his feet. When I only hear him giggle, I have my answer. “How did you even end up on the floor?”

“I fell,” he giggles again and I wonder how much he’s had to drink.

“Yeah,” I reply, rolling my eyes. “I can see that.”

“You saw me fall?” He sounds shocked and once he’s staring at me, I realize that it’s in awe.

“No,” I mutter, losing my patience. “Let’s get you on your feet.”

“You’re really pretty,” Emery grins as I struggle to get his limp body to stand.

“Emery, shut up.”

“I’m being serious,” he giggles, twirling my hair around his finger as I struggle to get him to his feet. He clearly isn’t interested in helping or even trying to get up. “With your eyes, your hair, your nose.” He grins, poking the tip of my nose when I debate whether or not to drop him.

“Why are you drunk?” I ask, ignoring him as I finally get him to stand. He wobbles a bit and I have to put an arm around his waist to steady him. However if he’s going down, I’m probably going with him.

“I’m drunk?” he slurs and I roll my eyes. “I thought I’m Emery. No, wait!” He says, raising his finger in the air like he just figured out a math problem. “I’m quiet! You said so yourself.”

I sigh, aggravated when suddenly the kitchen light is flicked on and Emery and I shield our eyes from the light.

“I’m blind!” Emery cries. “I’m not going to ever be able to see your beauty ever again!”

“What is going on here?” Aunt Bessie asks in an annoyed whisper. I follow her gaze to Emery, who is still going on about thinking he’s blind.

“Emery,” I snap, smacking his arm. “Open your eyes.”

I watch as he opens them and blinks a few times. Then, a huge grin spreads across his lips. “I can see again! You saved me!” In one swift movement, he wraps me in a bear hug and squeezes me as tight as he can.

“Put me down,” I whisper through clenched teeth. Finally, he listens and rests me on my feet. I turn back to my aunt, whose hands are on her hips, still waiting for an answer. “I heard a noise and came downstairs,” I explain quietly. “It turns out Emery tripped.”

She turns to look at him but he doesn’t meet her gaze. Instead, he stares at the ground, knowing he has to hide that he’s drunk. My family doesn’t know Emery well enough to know he’s acting completely upside down, so when Aunt Bessie heads towards the door, I sigh a breath of relief.

“Just be quiet going upstairs,” she whispers, flicking off the light and heading into the living room.

By the time we’re upstairs, I realize that even though Emery’s drunk and I’m completely furious with him, there’s still no mattress and he’s going to have to sleep with me. Aggravated, I gesture towards the bed.

“Get in and go to sleep,” I mutter, closing my bedroom door.

“But I can’t sleep with my clothes on.” I turn around to face him and see he’s sticking his bottom lip out slightly, trying to give me a drunken puppy dog face.

“Fine. Then take them off.” I head towards my bed when I feel Emery’s hand on my shoulder, pulling me back towards him.

“But you have to help me,” he grins, slurring his words. “I’m drunk.” I give him an you-have-to-be-kidding-me look and he just shrugs. Slowly, I take a step towards him until we’re so close I can feel the warmth of his torso. Grabbing the bottom of his shirt, I slowly lift it up and pull it over his head. Once it’s thrown on the floor, I head towards the bed again, my cheeks flushed when he pulls me back again. “Wait,” he murmurs, pulling me closer to him.

“Emery,” I whisper. “I want to go to bed.”

He doesn’t respond as he grabs my face with his hands and pulls my head towards his. Slowly, he leans in close, his eyes catching the moon’s light out the window. Then, I have no time to object as he kisses me.

His hands instantly become tangled in my hair as he pulls me closer to him. I don’t remember the last time we kissed this way, but it was for sure before I was pregnant.

“River,” Emery murmurs, pulling away to catch his breath. He rests his chin on the top of my head as he wraps his arms around me. My stomach is the only thing touching between us. “I want to tell you something.”

Even though I’m pissed and Emery’s slurring every single word that leaves his lips, I know to just sit and listen to what he has to say. From past experience, he opens up the most when he’s drunk.

“Tell me what?” I whisper. “That you’re going to put a shirt on?” Emery pulls back and smirks while I roll my eyes. “It’s kind of distracting, even in the dark.” I move my eyes to the ground and Emery pulls his shirt over his head. He gives me a look as if to say, ‘is this better?’ And when I nod, he starts to explain.

“I’m sorry, River,” he murmurs, stroking my hair. “I’m just not ready for this and I’m trying to pretend it isn’t happening.”

“I’m not ready either,” I reply, covering his hand that’s moved to my cheek with my own fingers. “But it would be a lot better if we can go through this together.”

Emery sighs and kisses my forehead. “And from now on, we will, I promise.” When I shoot him a questioning look, he smiles. “I have proof that I do.” When I raise my eyebrows, he leads me to my bed and we sit down, facing each other. “River, I have a name for our baby.”