The Crush (74)

I ate every damn one of those vegetables. But it did nothing to blunt the edge of how much I missed her.

I’d received sparse updates on Tim’s health through Molly—Parker wasn’t really returning texts, and I could understand why. He was settling into a new team, and his dad was given less than a year to live, given his decision to opt out of treatment.

Sitting in my big, dark house, weekly deliveries seemed like such a paltry way to accomplish anything. As I wolfed down my dinner, I glanced at the clock on the wall of my family room.

It was just past six by Adaline.

Living like this—no matter how busy we both were—was not something I could stand anymore. I needed something.

Anything.

Me: I’m staring at an empty vegetable crate, but I can’t bring myself to throw it away.

She answered almost immediately, and a warm, contented feeling settled in my chest when I saw her typing a response.

Adaline: Does it match your décor?

Me: It’s a bit more ‘broken down farmhouse’ than I prefer.

Adaline: Maybe you could set it outside next to your fancy pool and a family of seagulls could roost in it.

Me: Are you kidding? That crate is precious to me. It deserves better than bird shit.

Adaline didn’t respond right away. I settled back in my seat, stretching my sore legs out onto the ottoman in front of the couch. It was like every other snippet of time we allowed ourselves … we knew better, and we still couldn’t resist. As long as she knew how much she was on my mind, I could get some sleep.

Me: I know we weren’t going to do this, but I’m sitting in this house that’s way too big for me, and I miss you. I wanted you to know I was thinking about you.

Me: I always think about you, though, so I guess it has nothing to do with being at my house.

Adaline: I miss you too. How was practice?

Me: Same as always. Hot. Hard.

Adaline: …

Me: What?

Adaline: I could take that answer in so many inappropriate directions. But I won’t.

I grinned.

Me: Weirdest thing you had to do for work this week?

Adaline: Omg the options I could pick from …

Adaline: A few days ago, I had to break Kendall’s fall out of a tree when she was trying to hang umbrellas in the backyard.

Me: Dare I ask why you were doing this?

Adaline: Because they wanted us to recreate some street in London. They got engaged there and wanted her wedding shower to look exactly like it.

Me: Are you guys okay?? I thought I’d be the most likely person to get injured between the two of us.

Adaline: A little banged up, but the umbrellas looked fucking amazing. That’s what matters.

Me: A worthwhile cause for sure.

Adaline: Speaking of injuries, Green Bay was not very kind to you. How are you feeling?

Me: Sore, but I’ll survive.

Adaline: Wish I could help you with that.

Me: I thought we were keeping this conversation clean…

Adaline: True. I’m too tired for text sex anyway. How are you supposed to type one-handed?

Me: An excellent question, Miss Wilder.

Adaline: Thank you for the cake yesterday. Tim ate half of it before anyone else got home.

Me: You’re welcome. Maybe I’ll switch things up and send broccoli next. He should probably be eating like me, not like you.

Adaline: Are you kidding? He was so happy. I haven’t seen him smile like that in a solid week.

Me: Were you smiling too?

Adaline: Yes.

Me: Then I’ll send a dozen more.

Adaline: You keep this up, and that big sleep shirt won’t be so loose the next time you see me.

Me: You with more curves sounds like a win to me.

Adaline: No text sex, Emmett! I’m sitting next to my mom. It’s awkward.

Me: So I shouldn’t tell you what I thought about this morning when I was in the shower?

Adaline: NO.

Adaline: Maybe.

Me: We were on the downstairs couch at the beach house. But this time, I was between your legs.

Me: Next time I get you in a bed, that’s how I’ll wake you up. You’ll think you’re dreaming it, but it’ll be real. Then you’ll grip my hair and do that thing with your hips that drives me insane.

My phone rang, and I took a second to steady my breathing before I answered.

“Hey.” My voice was rough, and I slid a hand over the front of my shorts. Five minutes earlier, I thought my body was too tired for this, but I was wrong.

“Holy shit, Emmett, Tim asked me why my face was bright red,” she said in a hissed whisper. “My mom looked over at my phone, and I almost broke my ankle trying to get off the couch too fast.”

I laughed, and so did she. That sound of her breathless, embarrassed laughter was a balm, something soothing and sweet, and I had to close my eyes as it smoothed the impatient edge in my chest. I’d carried it around for weeks, and it wasn’t until it was gone that I realized the full weight of it.

My head fell back on the couch, and I blew out a breath. “I miss you,” I said. “So fucking much.”

She went quiet on the other end of the phone. Then I heard her sigh. “I miss you, too.”

For a long moment, neither of us said anything. If Adaline felt anything close to what I was, just knowing she was there was enough.