Strictly Summer Romance (ON HOLD)

Chapter Twenty One, Defeat

Seven hours and eight episodes later, my opinion has officially changed.

"But really, why did they have to kill off the horse?" I ask for the fourth time.

"Get over the horse already!" Mason says once again.

"How have I never watched this?!"

Mason laughs at my enthusiasm. "I told you."

"No, seriously, how many seasons are there? How have I never watched this?"

"Nine and counting."

"Damn. Play the next one!"

"Addict," he chuckles.

"Enabler," I retort as he starts the next episode.

"Touché."

Just as the recap ends, the front door downstairs closes loudly. I barely register it, too absorbed in the scene unfolding before me.

Footsteps follow the interruption up the stairs. I don't even think about who it might be until their feet hit the third floor platform, and I glance over my shoulder. As I look back at the TV I immediately wish I'd never noticed him.

Alex stands on at the top of the stairs taking in the sight of Mason and I sprawled on the couch together. I already know the thoughts running through his head, and my first instinct is to extinguish the lies he's telling himself, but I stay silent. I'll probably just make it worse. Mason has a different idea though.

"Hey, bro." I sink deeper into the couch. "Where you been?"

"Out," Alex says curtly. I make the mistake of looking at him again. He looks really good. Too good. Fitted jeans and an even tighter shirt. His hair is messy, probably from the wind. I can't see the color in his eyes from here, but I bet they're as vibrant as ever. He catches me staring and my cheeks begin to burn.

Mason pauses the episode. "You want to join us?"

I cringe even more. I know he's doing this on purpose.

"Nah, I think I'm good..." I expect him to turn his back on us, and bunker down in his room for the night. I expect the cold shoulder. I brace myself for it. So when he asks, "Emery, can I talk to you?" My heart nearly leaps out of my chest.

I scramble from my spot on the couch embarrassingly fast. Relief floods through my body. He's had his space. He's had his time. Shaina was right.

He gestures toward his bedroom with a head jerk, and I follow after him. His face is neutral, and I take comfort in that fact. At least he's not mad.

He shuts the door softly behind me, and in the close proximity and the light of his bedside lamp, I finally see his eyes. The soft light casts an almost pastel coating across them. I all but melt into him.

He stares down at me for a long moment, and I feel my breathing go ragged with every irregular beat of my heart. His hair falls slightly down his forehead in soft waves. His lips, so pink and full, part temptingly. He raises his hands and lightly runs them up the length of my arms.

A chill runs up my spine, but I suppress the shiver. His fingers wrap around either side of my neck and toy with my hair. I feel my lower stomach clench in anticipation as I stare up at him.

He leans down slowly, and my eyes slide shut awaiting his sweet, addictive kiss.

But instead of meeting my lips, his kiss finds my forehead and lingers there for a moment before he pulls me against his chest in a tight embrace.

The horny goddess within me groans in disappointment, but I revel in the feel of his arms around me, and the warmth he brings.

For the first time in nearly a week, I feel at peace. Being in his arms let's me know everything's going to be okay. We're going to be okay.