Again, words escape me. I can’t speak any of the replies that come to mind.
I can’t tell her that’s because she knows we are her daddies.
I can’t tell her that’s because he is just a little boy who thinks he knows what he is doing but actually has no idea.
I can’t tell her that she craves submission to us and that a vanilla relationship will never meet her needs.
I can’t tell her that we are waiting for her and will continue to wait for her.
All of that is too much pressure, especially if she’s drunk.
Swallowing, I cast about for other words, anything that will help her right now, except my mind is still blank. I have prepared for so many situations with Emery, but I never prepared for a drunken phone call where she calls me names and says she wishes she’d never met me. Even if she sounds precious while doing so.
She groans. “I think I need to go home.”
“How about this, we stay on the phone and I’ll come get you?” I offer, already making my way over to the kitchen to collect my keys from the counter. “And we can put a talking restriction in place if you like.”
Even just for my own sanity. Listening to her talk about dating William and hating us is not something I can handle for the almost thirty-minute drive to campus.
I detour into the kitchen and grab a bottle of water, then leave, making my way to the elevator.
“Yeah.” Hiccup. “Yes, please.”
In complete and utter silence on my end and background party noise on her end, I ride the elevator down to the parking garage,get in my car, drive out of the underground parking garage, and toward campus.
Greek Row is adjacent to the student housing, so I follow the oak-lined road around to Newton University’s most notorious party spot.
“Baby, can you make your way out front? I’m just around the corner, and it’s probably best that as few students as possible see me picking you up.” Not for my sake, but hers.
Her intoxication is going to render this night null and void in the relativity of things. If she was sober, I highly doubt she would have called me, no matter how angry she is with me. So this conversation, for all intents and purposes, never happened.
“I’m already out front. Sitting on the curb.”
As I turn the corner, I spot a girl sitting on the curb, and if it weren’t for the sparkly phone with its pom-pom pressed up against her ear, I wouldn’t have recognized her.
“I see you.”
She looks up, and I cut my headlights so that they don’t blind her. The call goes dead as she stands, lowering her arm. I pull up, get out of the car, grab the bottle of water, and go around to the passenger side, refusing to allow the tidal wave of awkwardness hovering above my head to crash over me.
Calmly, I turn my back on her, reach for the handle, and pop open the door. Then I wait. It doesn’t take long before she rounds the door and stands before me.
If I was a stronger man, I would have kept my eyes firmly focused on her face or maybe at a point somewhere off in the distance. But I’m not strong.
I’m weak for her. Weak for every breath she takes. For the faint scent of perfume that trails behind her. For the surprised laugh that escapes her on occassion. For the way her nose scrunches up when something isn’t quite to her liking, even if itis something I did. For the way she knows exactly who she is and isn’t afraid to stick up for herself.
So, my eyes scan her from head to toe, taking in every seductive detail of her outfit. The way the bright pink fabric hugs her body and how it stops at the perfect spot on her thigh to be sexy but also classy. How her legs look toned and shaped from the pencil-thin stilettos she is wearing.
And not to mention the way she has done her eye makeup to emphasize her hazel-green eyes. And the cherry pink of her lips
I have no idea how much time passes by as we stand there, simply staring at each other, but I refuse to make the first move. Not because I don’t want to, but because I don’t want to frighten her off. Without a word, she steps up into the passenger seat, and after ensuring she is safely inside and has taken a sip of the water, I close the door.
As much as I want to stop and take a breath and find my control, I don’t want her to see how rattled I am by her presence or by the fact that she called me when she needed a ride.
Shecalledme, and yes, at first it was to yell at me, but I have a feeling she knew she needed help and could count on me to show up. If the only thing I am able to take away from this night is the knowledge that our plan is starting to show results, then I will be satisfied with that.
I go around to the driver’s side and climb in, then reach into the back seat for my sports jacket, offering it to her as a blanket.
Wordlessly, she takes it, tucking it around her body.
