In Your Heart - Smeltzer Micalea. Страница 38

I held Toby’s jar tightly in my hands, afraid that the car ride might jostle him too much. It would totally suck if Ezra and I ended up killing the goldfish before we even made it home.

Ezra backed out and started the drive home. Since he lived in the middle of nowhere it took us a while to get back to his place.

I dropped my bag on the floor as soon as we got in and set Toby on the counter.

“We need to get him a little fish tank,” I told Ezra as I headed for the stairs.

“I’ll take care of it,” he assured me, grabbing a bag of chips and a drink before following me

I took a quick shower and changed into my pajamas.

I was starting into my room when Ezra called my name.

I padded down the short hallway and stood in the doorway. “Yeah?” I asked, as his eyes raked over my body. My pajamas consisted of a pair of shorts and a tank top. The shirt was pulled taut against my breasts and I was sure he was getting quite the show.

“Sleep in here tonight.” He patted the empty space beside him. He was shirtless and the glare from the TV screen made his chest glow.

“What did you say?” I wet my lips. I couldn’t possibly have heard him right.

He turned back the blankets on the other side and patted the empty space again. “Sleep in here,” he repeated, “we don’t have to do anything, but I…” He paused, clearing his throat. “Please?” He settled on.

I began to sway, suddenly feeling lightheaded, and I realized I’d been holding my breath.

“Okay,” I squeaked like a mouse. I’d never been so unsure of myself before. I’d always been a confident girl, comfortable in my own skin, but Ezra shook up my insides to the point that I didn’t recognize them.

I tiptoed into his bedroom and slipped beneath the smooth, silky sheets.

Ezra turned off his bedside light, but left the TV on.

He burrowed under the covers and I jolted when his arms wrapped around me.

He pulled me against his body and tucked one of my legs between his.

My heart raced a million miles an hour.

This…this was so much more than just sex.

This was something real couples did. He held me tightly, like he didn’t want to let go.

He pressed a tender kiss to the back of my neck and then lower between my shoulder blades over my tattoo.

“Goodnight, Sadie,” he whispered in the darkness.

“’Night.”

This was nothing.

It meant nothing.

We were nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

So why did it feel like everything?

MY PENCIL DRAGGED lazily across the blank white page. I could see the dress perfectly in my head, now I just had to get it down on paper.

I’d drawn a few possible designs for Emma’s dress already, but I vetoed them without even showing her. They were all lacking something. I wanted this dress to be one hundred percent Emma, and the idea I had now I knew was perfect.

The dress slowly appeared before my eyes and I began to flesh it out, adding the smaller details.

Downstairs something fell over and Ezra yelled, “I’m okay. Don’t come down yet!”

“Alright!” I called back.

He’d banished me upstairs and told me he had a surprise for me. I was definitely curious to know what he was up to, but luckily I’d been distracted by my design. Without a distraction I would’ve forced myself past his barricade—yes, he made a barricade—just to see what he was up to.

I finished my drawing and I smiled at it. I knew Emma would love it and I couldn’t wait to see her face when I showed her. I was already planning out the fabrics I would need to buy and how much time it would take to make the dress. It wasn’t too complicated of a design, but I knew to account for the fact that I might run into a problem.

“I’m ready!” Ezra called. “You can come down now!”

I set my sketchpad aside and scurried down the stairs, nearly falling in my haste.

He’d cleared away the barricade and when I reached the bottom of the steps I saw that he’d moved the furniture out of the way and covered the floor with a large white sheet.

On top of the sheet was a Twister mat—yeah, like the game—and on top of each colored circle was a splattering of a matching paint color.

“What is this?” I asked.

“Twister…with a twist.” He chuckled, standing with his arms crossed over his chest as he admired his handy work.

“Why?” I stood beside him, staring at the mat on the ground in wonder.

He glanced down at me. “We leave for Florida tomorrow and I know it’ll be nearly impossible for us to get any time alone, so I thought we would do something fun today.”

“So…you want us to roll around in paint?”

His laughter vibrated through his chest and he shoved his unruly black hair out of his eyes. “Getting you dirty has a certain appeal.”

“At least you’re honest. But I’m not sure how I feel about ruining my clothes.”

“Such a girl,” he muttered, then cracked a smile, “it’s a good thing I think of everything.”

He grabbed a pair of brand new white shorts and a white t-shirt. I noticed then that he was dressed in white jeans and a white shirt. By the end of this both would be covered in a kaleidoscope of colors.

I took the clothes from him and stripped down right there. I didn’t think there was any reason to be modest at this point. I folded what I’d been wearing before and set it on the steps.

“You wanna go first?” He asked me, a challenge gleaming in his eyes.

“Sure.” I agreed, stepping over onto the sheet beside the mat.

He picked up the board and spun. “Right hand green.”

I crouched down and put my hand on one of the circles, right smack in the middle of the paint. It squished between my fingers and felt cold and gross, but I kept my face straight so that he wouldn’t make fun of me.

“Your turn,” I declared, waving my hand for the board so that I could spin for him. He held it out to me and I flicked the spinner. “Left foot yellow.”

He stuck his foot out and immediately spun for me. “Right foot red.”

“I’m not that flexible!” I groaned, stretching out to reach a red circle all the way on the opposite side of the mat while still keeping my hand on the green circle.

“I’d beg to differ,” he whispered under his breath.

I rolled my eyes and spun for him. “Left foot blue.” He moved his foot. “Ugh,” I groaned, “that’s so not fair! My muscles are screaming and you only had to move your freaking foot!”

“Don’t hate the player, babe,” he grinned, lifting his shoulders in a small shrug.

“I’ll show you a player,” I grumbled.

“Don’t be like that.” He continued to grin, definitely unconcerned with my current pissed off state. He spun and called out, “Left hand blue.”

“Motherfucker,” I cursed, trying to position myself. I ended up bumping into Ezra and my hands landed on his butt to steady myself, leaving behind streaks of paint.

He stumbled from the impact of my weight and then tripped over me.

We fell together in a tangle of limbs, paint getting all over our clothes and hair.

“Well, that didn’t go according to plan.” I muttered, laying flat across his chest.

“Really? Because getting you in my arms was my end game.” He winked.

I glared down at him as his hands tightened around my waist. I reached out, smearing my hand in a glob of paint. Before he realized what I was up to I pressed my hand to his cheek, the red paint getting all over his face and into the scruff on his cheeks.

His eyes narrowed on me. “Oh, you’re in trouble now.”

I squealed when he grabbed my wrists and twisted to pin me beneath him. Paint squished beneath me, coating my hair and clothes.

“Ezra!” I screamed.

I smeared my hand in paint again and wiped it in his hair.