EMILY
I made a huge mistake. Not only had I been rude to Seth but I'd also called him a man-whore which was completely unacceptable.
Seth wasn't mine. I mean at least not now. He hadn't given me any indication that I was his girlfriend so I had no right to say things to him that I had. Things from last night were irreversible. He'd looked hurt, and it killed me when I went to bed.
The next day during lunchtime, I'd spotted him with his teammates. His dark brown hair was tousled, a few unruly locks swept on his forehead that were soft and smelled like cedar and woodsy with a twinge of refreshing peppermint. I knew that because I'd spent the night, running my fingers through his hair and smelling it. The next day, I'd sneaked into his bathroom to check the shampoo label and bought the exact bottle just so I could keep it and sniff it occasionally.
Seth was just really really good-looking with his strong jawline, kissable lips, a goofy grin, and a rocking hot body, the female species threw at him in abundance. Every single day.
I would probably not feel so insecure if I was a little like Alice or his friend Skylar or even Staysha, but I wasn't.
I was just sweet-potato Emily.
I think I was staring hard at him because his emerald eyes met mine, and in the sunlight, the green color blended with a golden hue, sort of like champagne. I held his gaze for a moment, and smiled, but he looked away quickly as if I was a pest that he wanted to kill with a bottle of Mortein or a Baygon spray.
That was the most heartbreaking thing I'd ever experienced.
Forty-eight hours back, we'd been pressed against each other, kissing until we were breathless, and I remembered him whispering to me about how much he wanted me.
I'd tried apologizing to him in the morning and then I'd texted but he hadn't responded.
I found Seth in the library that afternoon. Alone. His nose was buried in a textbook while taking some notes in his notebook. His handwriting was nice, running and cursive.
"I have a spare laptop that I can give you." I blurted out.
He slowly looked up at me, "I don't need charity, and I don't like using laptops for school work."
That could have also been translated to 'Go away and mind your own business.'
Shamelessly, I took a seat opposite his. "Can we please talk? I'm really sorry about last night. I won't take too much of your time."
"Not right now, Emily. We'll talk when I get home, okay?"
I liked how he called my home his.
I nodded. "We're...we're still friends, aren't we?"
"Sure. If friends are what you want us to be." He said it with a poker-face but I could tell he was being sarcastic.
"Yes, I want to remain friends."
"See you, Emily."
* * *
SETH
I came home late that evening. Deciding not to torture Emily any longer, I took a shower, changed into a t-shirt and sweat pants, and went to her house. I had to prepare dinner anyway.
She was in the kitchen, her back was facing me as I entered. She wore a short dress, an apron wrapped around her front. My gaze then drifted towards the counter that was a mess. The aroma of parmesan and pasta wafted the place.
"What are you doing, Emily?" I asked her like a dumbass when it was clear that she'd been cooking.
"I thought you would be late due to practice so I decided to make dinner today for a change. You're always overworked. My dinner is probably not as fancy or delicious as yours but I hope you like it."
I placed my hands on the counter.
She thought I was being overworked and for that reason, she cooked for me. That was such a sweet gesture. If I wasn't so goddamn pissed about the stuff she'd said to me last night, I would have pulled her to me and kissed her by now. A long hot kiss is what I wanted.
"This is my job, okay? I'm paid to cook and clean for you."
"I know, but I wanted to do this. For once. You always take care of me; I wanted a chance to do the same for you." She insisted, putting two plates on the island for both of us, and the cutlery.
I tried to swallow the deep emotion unfurling inside me. "Why?"
"Because we're friends."
There that word was again. 'Friends.' She'd said it twice today, obviously trying to prove a point here. No, I didn't want to be her friend any longer. Maybe I was her friend once upon a time when she hadn't dared me to take off my shirt and then proceeded to take off hers as well. Things had changed now:
"What did you want to talk to me about?"
She wiped her hands on the apron and turned to face me.
"I want to apologize to you for the things I said yesterday. I'm really sorry." She was nervous as she kept picking her manicured nails. "I was completely out of line. We're not even together and I don't have any right to tell you what to do while you're not with me. I just want to tell you something and I hope you don't judge me for saying this."
"I won't," I assured her, quietly.
Whatever that she was about to tell me was taking a lot of courage.
"I'm going to be honest with you but please don't feel pity for me. I get really insecure when I see you with girls who are thinner than me, who are smaller, and just...not fat. I'm not sure if I could ever overcome this." She sniffled, tears rolling down her cheeks. I handed her some tissues. "When I saw you getting into Alice's car, I had all these insane thoughts that secretly you preferred girls like her over me. I started to think that the night we kissed, it happened only because we were drunk and you got carried away. I have always had ugly thoughts about myself. I used to be ashamed of looking into the mirror, but I don't want to be that insecure person anymore. Since you started living here with me...since I've come to know you, I've been seeing myself in a better light. I'm so much happier when I'm around you, and then..." she glanced away, so I tilted her chin up to look at me. "And then I thought Alice was taking that away from me."
Something broke inside me. She was showing me the most vulnerable side of her.
I went around the table to pull her into a hug. She came to me willingly. I had to sit down on the barstool so that my head was leveled with hers. I pressed my lips to her forehead.
She stood between my legs, not meeting my gaze, her attention was fixated at the front of my t-shirt. "Emily, I wish I genuinely knew why you would feel so insecure about your body because all I see is a gorgeous girl with voluptuous curves. I'm not so shallow that I would like a girl for the size of her body." When she looked right at me, calling me on my bullshit, I gave out a laugh. "Okay, let's say that you're a different case for me. I've never been with a girl who's..."
"Fat." She completed for me.
"No. Curvy like you."
"So you're with me because you want to put a tick in the 'Curvy' check box?"
"Fuck, Emily, no!" I took a deep breath, "what I'm trying to tell you is, I was attracted to you from the get-go. It was your smile that did it, I already told you that before and..." I flashed her my panty-melting, teasing smile, "I'm a red-blooded male, I don't know about others, but I like a woman that's blessed with a lot of meat on her bones."
She laughed, and that surely did the trick to make the situation lighter.
For emphasis, I pulled her closer and placed my hands on her hips. If she could fucking read my mind, she would know that she possessed more than half of it. She would be scared of the things she would see.
"Seriously though, baby, you've got everything that I need." I did not leave an inch of space between us, my fingers flitting over her breasts. I brushed a soft kiss on her lips. I'd been dying to do that since morning.
"I'm sorry again. I didn't mean anything by what I said."
"It's okay. But, I won't allow it again."
"I promise I will trust you." She said quickly.
"No, I mean...I won't allow you to call yourself fat or have this stupid inferiority complex. You're equal or even better than all those thin or skinny girls that you're so envious about. Everyone is different, and I like you the way you are, Emily-Mae. I don't want you to change, or go on a fucking diet."
She nodded, giving me a grateful look, "Thank you."
"I just want you to do a small thing for me."
"What's that?"
"I want you to love yourself."
And allow me to love you.
"Can you do that?"
"Yes. I'll try." She said, looking happier than I'd seen her in the past few weeks. I knew she drew strength from my words.
"And I think some ground rules are in order. I'd like to put some things into perspective."
"Okay."
"I'm not sure what's going on between us, but as long as we're..." I swallowed, scratching the back of my neck, "as long as we are hooking up with each other, you can't be with someone else. Same goes for me. And I mean no going on random dates with other people. Agreed?"
"Yeah. I'm okay with it."
"If you think a certain behavior is unacceptable according to you, you'll talk to me directly. And I'll do the same. We will always talk to each other before drawing conclusions."
"So are we good now?" She asked.
"Sure." I pulled the pasta casserole towards me. "This already looks bomb."
I stuck my fork into the pasta and took a massive bite from it. "Who knew you could cook better pasta than me?"
She giggled, "You're just flattering me. I'm not even that good."
"Thanks, Emily." The pasta was good, it had a little extra salt but nothing too bad. "I really appreciate you doing this for me."
“You’re always welcome.” She seemed delighted by my compliment. I knew hearing good things meant a lot to her.
She’d told me not to pity her, but I couldn’t help but feel sad for the girl that she’d been. Lonely, ignored, taken for granted. She deserved so much more. Everything that was in her past was now feeding on her insecurities.
“Seth, you know almost everything about me, and we live in the same house now but you never talk about yourself. I’d like to get to know you more.”
Shit!
“My life was pretty boring growing up, trust me.” I said, staring into my plate.
If Emily learned about some things from my past, or the reason I’d packed and transferred schools to live with my mother, she wouldn’t look at me like she was looking right now.
And I don’t think I had it inside me to find out.
I wanted to know everything about Emily yet there were some skeletons in my closet that I wanted to bury, and not let her find out. So what did that make me?
A fucking hypocrite.