With All My Heart - Emilia Finn Page 0,5
that. I like having a name for you that no one else uses.”
I like that he gave me a name that no one else uses.
“If you marry me, we can use Robert for our firstborn son. You know, so you don’t lose your history.”
I snort. “Jesus. I swear, you give me whiplash. Marriage. Babies. Running away together. This is our first ever real talk.”
“I know. And it only took three years. I have the patience of a fucking saint, woman.”
“That’s a cool idea,” I mumble thoughtfully. “Naming my first son Robert. There’s a lot of history in that one name. Shitty history, but history nonetheless.”
“He wouldn’t even need a middle name,” he replies equally as serious. “Robert is heavy enough for a little baby.”
Chapter 3
Bryan
“Robert is heavy enough for a little baby.”
“Did you win your race tonight?”
I stop halfway outside the phone booth with a cigarette in one hand and the phone in the other. “Um…” I cough to clear the smoke. Every time I walk by her immediately after a smoke, she frowns disapprovingly. She doesn’t like it. She doesn’t like the smell. So I don’t smoke during the day until after I’ve pinned her in the parking lot. “You know I race?”
She scoffs adorably. “Of course I know. Everyone knows.”
“Well, I hope not everyone.” I toss the almost finished cigarette to the ground and crush it beneath my boot. “It’s illegal. Cops’ll impound my car if everyone knows about it.”
She snickers. “Okay, obviously not everyone. But I know. Almost everyone at school knows.”
“You should come down and watch. I’ll win for you.” I win for her every time. Every dollar I make goes into amassing that fortune her daddy wants her to marry. It just sucks for me that fortune grows by only a couple hundred bucks a week. It’s slow going, but I’m on my third year now.
I’m a racer.
I’m a fighter.
My whole life works in three-minute increments. Everything’s fast as shit, life or death, winner or loser. Life zooms out ahead of me in one-hundred and eighty second increments, three minutes, or quarter miles… except for my bank account.
That shit’s like a three-hundred-year-old, one-legged fucking turtle.
She’s slow. She’s limp. But she’s going.
“I can’t come down and watch.”
“Why the fuck not? You know you wanna.”
“I have a boyfriend. I don’t know if you got the memo yet, but that means I’m not available to watch you race. That means you aren’t allowed to win for me. That means when he finds out I called you tonight, I’m gonna be in a lot of trouble.”
“Are you scared of him?”
“Of Shane?”
“Of anyone? I’ll take them out for you.”
She snorts. “My daddy? Yup.” Her answer comes across so casual, but truth rings in the single word. “I’m terrified of him. He’ll beat me if he finds out we’re talking.”
Then he can sit at the top of my list. “What about Shane?”
“Scared of him? No. He’s just a clueless idiot.”
“You let that clueless idiot touch you?”
My cock thrums with anticipation as, just like I expected, her breath becomes short, her groan barely distinguishable.
That groan’s not for him. I know it’s not. “Sometimes.”
Start at the top. Aim for the honey. “You let him kiss you?”
“Yes.”
“With tongue?”
“Sometimes.”
I run my tongue along my teeth. First order of business; get the taste of Shane-I like dicks-Turdsky out of her mouth. “Would you let me kiss you? With tongue.”
Her breath shudders out. “I can’t.”
“You have a boyfriend. I know. Does he kiss your neck?”
“Mmhm.”
“The same spot I kiss it?”
“You shouldn’t do that anymore. It’s inappropriate.”
Second order of business; keep making out with her neck. He’s trying to take possession. She’s mine. “He touch your boobs? I watched you grow the last three years. A’s in sophomore year. D’s this year.”
“You’re a pervert.”
“No. More like a guy who can appreciate perfection. Yours are… perfect.” I chuckle arrogantly. “You’re still perfect, but a couple cups larger. A handful each, if you will.”
“Pig.”
I make piggy snorts to make her laugh. “You didn’t answer my question. Limp dick touch your boobs?”
“Yes.”
“Above or below the bra?”
“This is inappropriate.”
“Below.” I work to keep my voice easy, but inside, my gut churns like pools of lava. It’ll spill over and burn him soon. I’m saving it for him. “Would you let me touch your tits, Bert? Under the bra.”
“Bryan…”
“Uh-huh. Just like that. When I take your titties in my mouth, get a taste, show you what a real man can do to your body, you’ll say my name just like that.”
“So inappropriate.”
“Mmhm. I