Read Online Melted and Whipped by Cleo Pietsche - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Cleo Pietsche
Ads: Link
hand sliding around my waist. His touch makes me shiver, and I know if I don’t get away right now and pull myself together, I’m going to be in trouble.
“Hold up,” Porter says. “I’ll turn on some real lights.” He walks away, and a moment later a soft glow illuminates the room.
“Thank you,” I murmur.
In the bathroom, I splash cold water on my face. What the hell is happening to me? Is it trust? Am I confusing trust with love?
Damn, I don’t want to fuck this up. Why can’t I relax and go with it?
I rinse my mouth even though my breath is fine, and I wonder if maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I don’t need to be careful. Porter didn’t give me a lecture about not getting attached.
But maybe he didn’t feel he needed to. After all, we’re not fourteen.
What if I decide it’s just theatrics, that I can’t trust the signals I’m reading? And what if I’m wrong?
I stare hard at my reflection and try to figure out what Porter sees when he looks at me. He’s attracted to me. He likes me as a person. But we haven’t spent that much time together tonight. If he was interested in dating me, he had plenty of chances. Hell, he could have made an effort to stay close after graduation.
Maybe tonight was just about sex.
“Emily?” Porter knocks on the door. He sounds concerned.
“I’ll be right out,” I blurt. I don’t think I’ve been in the bathroom for so long that he needs to be concerned, but maybe I have. If that’s the case, then I really am losing it.
“It’s important,” he says. “Your phone kept ringing and, given the hour, I thought it might be critical. It’s your brother-in-law.”
I throw open the door. My hands tremble as I take the phone. “Greg?”
“Stacy’s in the hospital,” Greg says flatly. “She was bleeding.”
“Oh, no.” This is what we’ve all feared since the moment she became pregnant. “Is… is she—”
“She’s fine,” Greg reassures me, but I know him well enough to know when he’s bluffing, putting on a brave face. He’s scared out of his mind.
I’m vaguely aware of Porter leading me to a sofa, of him helping me sit.
“And the baby?” I ask, afraid to speak the words aloud, like even acknowledging the possibility could make it happen.
“The doctor is with her now,” Greg says, and I can imagine him pacing the way he does when he’s anxious, the way he did the evening he asked Stacy to marry him in front of everyone. “We got here a few minutes ago. I called you first. Oh God,” he says suddenly, and my heart stops.
“What?”
“I have to tell your dad. Oh God. What am I thinking? I’ll call you back.” He hangs up.
Stunned, I lower my hand.
Porter shifts on the couch. “Your sister’s in the hospital,” he says.
“Yes. I…” But I don’t know what to say.
“Do you want me to—I can take you to the airport.”
I stare at him, trying to make sense of his words; my brain isn’t working.
“You need to fly home,” Porter says firmly.
The sound of his confident, calm voice pulls me away from the churning chaos of my own mind.
Of course he’s right. I have to go home immediately. I nod.
“You’re not in any state to drive,” he says. “I’ll drive you to your place so you can pack some things, then I’ll take you to the airport.”
“Okay,” I say. I don’t want to need his help, but the fact is that I do. I’m shaking so badly that it’s not safe for me to drive right now. “We can take my car, and I’ll pay for you to get a taxi from—”
“Nonsense. I’ll drive my own vehicle.”
I have to get dressed.
I have to get a plane ticket, will need to spread the cost across my credit cards.
What I don’t do is think about Stacy, at least not in any detail. I can’t allow myself to, not if I want to hold it together long enough to get home.
Chapter Eleven
Porter stops his luxury SUV in front of my apartment building.
“I’ll be fast,” I promise.
He turns off the engine. “I’m coming
“Hold up,” Porter says. “I’ll turn on some real lights.” He walks away, and a moment later a soft glow illuminates the room.
“Thank you,” I murmur.
In the bathroom, I splash cold water on my face. What the hell is happening to me? Is it trust? Am I confusing trust with love?
Damn, I don’t want to fuck this up. Why can’t I relax and go with it?
I rinse my mouth even though my breath is fine, and I wonder if maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I don’t need to be careful. Porter didn’t give me a lecture about not getting attached.
But maybe he didn’t feel he needed to. After all, we’re not fourteen.
What if I decide it’s just theatrics, that I can’t trust the signals I’m reading? And what if I’m wrong?
I stare hard at my reflection and try to figure out what Porter sees when he looks at me. He’s attracted to me. He likes me as a person. But we haven’t spent that much time together tonight. If he was interested in dating me, he had plenty of chances. Hell, he could have made an effort to stay close after graduation.
Maybe tonight was just about sex.
“Emily?” Porter knocks on the door. He sounds concerned.
“I’ll be right out,” I blurt. I don’t think I’ve been in the bathroom for so long that he needs to be concerned, but maybe I have. If that’s the case, then I really am losing it.
“It’s important,” he says. “Your phone kept ringing and, given the hour, I thought it might be critical. It’s your brother-in-law.”
I throw open the door. My hands tremble as I take the phone. “Greg?”
“Stacy’s in the hospital,” Greg says flatly. “She was bleeding.”
“Oh, no.” This is what we’ve all feared since the moment she became pregnant. “Is… is she—”
“She’s fine,” Greg reassures me, but I know him well enough to know when he’s bluffing, putting on a brave face. He’s scared out of his mind.
I’m vaguely aware of Porter leading me to a sofa, of him helping me sit.
“And the baby?” I ask, afraid to speak the words aloud, like even acknowledging the possibility could make it happen.
“The doctor is with her now,” Greg says, and I can imagine him pacing the way he does when he’s anxious, the way he did the evening he asked Stacy to marry him in front of everyone. “We got here a few minutes ago. I called you first. Oh God,” he says suddenly, and my heart stops.
“What?”
“I have to tell your dad. Oh God. What am I thinking? I’ll call you back.” He hangs up.
Stunned, I lower my hand.
Porter shifts on the couch. “Your sister’s in the hospital,” he says.
“Yes. I…” But I don’t know what to say.
“Do you want me to—I can take you to the airport.”
I stare at him, trying to make sense of his words; my brain isn’t working.
“You need to fly home,” Porter says firmly.
The sound of his confident, calm voice pulls me away from the churning chaos of my own mind.
Of course he’s right. I have to go home immediately. I nod.
“You’re not in any state to drive,” he says. “I’ll drive you to your place so you can pack some things, then I’ll take you to the airport.”
“Okay,” I say. I don’t want to need his help, but the fact is that I do. I’m shaking so badly that it’s not safe for me to drive right now. “We can take my car, and I’ll pay for you to get a taxi from—”
“Nonsense. I’ll drive my own vehicle.”
I have to get dressed.
I have to get a plane ticket, will need to spread the cost across my credit cards.
What I don’t do is think about Stacy, at least not in any detail. I can’t allow myself to, not if I want to hold it together long enough to get home.
Chapter Eleven
Porter stops his luxury SUV in front of my apartment building.
“I’ll be fast,” I promise.
He turns off the engine. “I’m coming
Similar Books
