Page 22 of Saving His Heart

“What the hell happened now?” I ask.

“M-My mommy bags are leaking. I have to pump and dump, and I don’t even get to go in the hot tub because liquid gold will spray everywhere,” Lanie sobs.

I’m not going to lie. I have no fucking clue what Lanie just said. I’m also getting anxious about Emory.

“Ah,” Dex says, looking sheepish. “Trevor left with Julia, and what my lovely lady here is trying to say is, she hasn’t pumped in a few hours, and the hot water is making her leak breast milk.”

I look from him, then to Lanie, who points to her chest, and sure enough, there are two large wet spots. I don’t mean to, but I gag, loudly. The idea of breast milk spraying all over my hot tub is enough to make me want to get rid of the damn thing.

“See, Dex. Preston thinks it’s gross too.” Lanie’s sobs are getting louder.

“Nice going, dickwad,” Dexter scolds, stifling a laugh. “I’m just going to get her home. Emory and Lexi are out on the balcony. Good luck.”

“Great.” I give him a pat on the shoulder as we pass. “You too.”

We both laugh at the absurdity of it all until I step outside and see Emory standing in the hot tub in nothing but a tiny red thong.

“It makes its own bubbles, Pres,” she says happily. Hearing her use my nickname does something funny to my insides.

“Well, Romeo. I’m not sure how you landed her, but she is as sweet and possibly even more innocent than Lanie. I would never have thought that possible,” Lexi says, chuckling.

“She is far too good for me, that’s for sure,” I acknowledge, and lean against the hot tub.

Emory has finally taken a seat and is staring up at the stars.

“I’m not sure what’s going on between you two,” Lexi starts, and I feel the dread set in, “but she’s a good girl. A good girl who appears to have had an even harder upbringing than Lanie. Those two have more in common than I would have guessed,” she says just above a whisper.

I swallow and nod in understanding but can’t bring myself to speak.

“Listen, Preston. I don’t truly think you’re a bad guy, and maybe with a little space, we could eventually be friends, but when I look at Emory, I worry. Just don’t break her, okay? She seems strong and smart and put together, but I recognize the pain she’s hiding. Just make sure you’re doing right by her.”

I wonder for a moment if Lexi has anyone to talk to, and I make a mental note to check in with Lanie tomorrow. I can’t bring myself to make eye contact with her, but I nod and say, “I will.”

“Alright then, I’m going to head down to Emory’s place for the night. I have a feeling she needs about a gallon of water and possibly some bread.”

“Lexi, you don’t have to do that. I can bring Ems home,” I tell her.

“No need, Romeo. I’m looking forward to a little alone time in a space all my own. I’ll see you in the morning,” she says, heading for the door.

Great. What the hell am I supposed to do now?

Emory answers that when the water sloshes, and she slides farther down into the seat.

“Okay, Goldie. It’s time to get you out and into some dry clothes,” I tell her.

“Okay, Goldie,” she mimics with a few hiccups thrown in.

I hold open the towel and observe as she attempts to stand.

“Excuuuuse me?” Emory says, and I wonder how long I’ve been staring at her tits. “Did you just fart?” She has her hands on her knees, and I think she is going to be sick until I hear her laughing uncontrollably. “Because you just blew me away,” she says just before she slips in the water, and I have to dive to catch her.

I can’t even be fucking mad. The girl just told me my non-existent fart blew her away. I’m laying in the hot tub fully clothed with her on top of me, yet we both laugh so hard my stomach cramps. I don’t remember the last time I laughed like this.

“Alright, sweetheart, you win. Again. Now, let’s get you out of here.”

“Why? Are we going to practice that kiss now?” she asks, concentrating on my lips as I lift her out of the hot tub.

I stare down into her eyes, and as much as I want to, I won’t kiss her tonight. Not when she is drunk, and not when this day has been the most confusing of my goddamn life. I feel like I had a better handle on things ten years ago when Dr. Terry essentially handed me a death sentence.