Wicked Restless

She hasn’t asked me not to go since we last talked about the fight. She won’t ask—I can tell. But I also know she doesn’t want me to. I know I could handle him. I think she knows it, too. She wants it. But she’s afraid of the unexpected. The things we couldn’t plan for have been our downfall so many times.

We’ve lain here the entire morning, her running her fingers up and down my arm and back while I press my face to the side in my pillow and stare at her. I like the way she looks at me—like I’m someone.

“You were really amazing last night,” she hums.

I smirk, and bunch my shoulder. “That’s not the first time I’ve heard that,” I tease. Her hand stops moving and she brings it down on my shoulder with a quick smack. “Owwwww!”

I grab her, rolling her over so she’s pinned beneath me, her eyes lit up with her laughter, her hair a chaotic storm of smoke around her.

“I meant at your hockey game, you cocky asshole,” she says, rolling her eyes, but giving way to laughter again as I push my thumbs into the ticklish spots along her sides.

“I know,” I say, my forehead against hers. Our laughter fades into a rhythmic breath and I close my eyes, feeling the tip of my nose brush against hers until I find my way to her lips. “I was just hoping I was amazing at other things, too,” I speak against her mouth, biting my lip, then hers.

“You were,” she says against me, her lips closing the slight distance until we’re kissing so hard it feels as if it’s for survival.

It feels as if it could be the last.

My phone buzzes with a text, and we both pause our movement until I lift myself enough to look into her eyes, neither of us happy.

“You should get that,” she says, her face falling to the side, away from my phone.

Away from me.

I take a deep breath and lean to the edge of the bed, rolling away from her until I sit with my feet on the floor. It’s nearly noon; we’ve slept most of the day away. I open my messages to find one from Harley. I knew it was him.

The fight is set for six at his gym. They’re usually later, and it strikes me how rushed and unprofessional everything about this feels compared to the fights I’ve done for him before.

I text him back OKAY, then close my phone before turning to take in Emma, still lying in my bed with her back to me. I lay back down behind her, running my palm up the perfect line of her spine, sweeping her hair to the side and pressing my lips on the back of her hot neck.

“Was that about the fight?” she asks, her voice hoarse and quiet.

I press my head into the back of hers and breathe her in. “Yes,” I say. I feel her nod against me, then eventually her hands find my arms and she pulls them around her tightly.

“When?” she asks, pulling my palm up to her chest, pressing it flat against her heart. It’s beating so hard I can almost feel it working in and out.

“Six,” I say. “But I need to leave in a couple hours to get ready.”

She nods again, and her body quivers lightly. I know she’s crying, but I also know she’s trying to hide it from me. I let her think she has, and I run my thumbs over her knuckles as our hands caress each other.

“Hold me…like this…until you go?” Her voice is a whisper now.

“Okay,” I say, snuggling into her more before pulling the blanket over us. I stroke her skin and hair until I can tell she’s calm. She isn’t asleep—she’s too afraid of missing something. It takes me back to Lake Crest when I never let myself completely lose sense of where I was and what was happening around me. I learned early on that sleeping left me vulnerable—it’s when others took advantage and stole away anything I had.

Nobody would be stealing anything from us today—not Emma’s father, my history, or the ghosts of my past. I’d make sure of it. This small moment—it’s Emma’s and mine. And soon, when I’m about to face the sorry excuse for a man who marred her perfect face, I’ll make sure he can’t rob us of anything either.

* * *

Leaving her felt impossible. Emma has a paper due, so she buried herself in my bed, surrounded by books and her laptop. She played aloof as I packed my bag and left, as if it were just me getting ready to leave for practice, or class, or work. But her eyes were empty, and I know her thoughts were on where I’m really going.

I kissed her and promised her I’d call as soon as I was on my way back. She smiled, barely, nodding and pushing her ear buds in, her music turned so loud that I could hear it clearly on my end. I let her front. I know she needs this.