Page 65 of Beautiful Crazy
The sliding glass door opens, pulling me from my thoughts, and a smile lifts my lips as a sleepy Everett walks outside, sitting in the chair beside mine. Pillow lines mark the side of his face, his hair all mussed up, and he looks like if I went over there and wrapped myself around him, he’d be nice and warm. The idea is tempting.
“Morning,” he rasps, his voice thick with sleep.
“Morning. How’d you sleep?”
“Fan-fucking-tastic.” Rubbing his fist into his eye socket, he asks, “Been up long?”
Taking a sip from my coffee, I say, “Only about thirty minutes.”
“Did you sleep well?”
“I did,” I reply honestly. Slept better than well, actually.
Everett’s quiet for a moment before he says, “Listen, I know last night we got swept up in the moment, and I realize I didn’t use a condom, and I also didn’t have a discussion with you before I did that.”
“It’s okay,” I cut in, not wanting him to feel bad for something I didn’t push for either. “If I’m being honest, it was really fucking hot having you fill me up.”
My cheeks heat, but I hold his gaze as his responding smile makes my stomach dip. “Really?”
“Mmhmm.” I bite my lip as I remember how his cock felt inside of me. The way he’s watching me lets me know he’s probably thinking about it too. “Want some coffee?”
Everett nods, a chuckle spilling out of him at my change of subject. “Please.”
Heading inside to make him a cup, an idea hits me. Back outside, I ask him, “Have you done any type of exploring since moving here?”
Taking the mug from me, our fingers brush, the small touch sending a zap of electricity through my whole arm and down into my chest. “A little,” he replies. “But not much. Why do you ask?”
A smile spreads on my face. “Because I have an idea for something we can do today.” And then, because I realize how presumptuous that sounded, I add, “If you don’t already have something going on.”
Breathing out a laugh, he takes a sip from the steaming cup before holding it in his lap like he’s trying to keep hishands warm. “I don’t have anything else going on, and I’m down for whatever you have in mind.”
“We can get ready once we’re done with our coffee, then.”
“Deal. But how about while we’re working on these”—he gestures toward my coffee, then his—“we play a little twenty questions?”
I giggle, the suggestion taking me by surprise. “Okay, you first.”
“Have you always wanted to be an author?”
I truly love when people ask me about my career. Not in a vain, let’s-talk-about-me type of way, but because I am so in love with what I get to do for a living.
“Yes,” I reply, my grin growing wider. “I’ve written stories for as long as I can remember. Teachers and my parents used to tell me all the time that I have a very creative mind. It was never something I truly thought I could achieve, but it was still a dream of mine, nonetheless.”
“I’m not the least bit surprised that you achieved your dreams, Gemma.” A chill racks through my body at the intensity of his stare as he says that with such conviction. “In the short time I’ve known you, you’re one of the strongest women I know, and you don’t strike me as somebody who doesn’t go after exactly what they want.”
My cheeks heat as a lump forms in my throat, and I don’t quite know how to handle the compliment. It makes me want to squirm, but instead, I take my turn. “What’s something that used to bother you about yourself when you were younger that you’ve learned to embrace?”
Everett whistles. “Damn, hitting me with the deep ones right off the bat, huh?”
Ilaugh, shrugging my shoulders.
He appears in thought for a moment. “Probably my lack of desire to become an attorney.” Everett’s eyes meet mine, and I can see vulnerability shining back at me, similar to the other times we’ve talked about his family and career path. It’s not an easy topic for him. “I used to hate that I couldn’t force myself to follow the path laid out for me. Like if I could just suck it up and do what was expected of me, my life would’ve been a hell of a lot simpler.”
“And now?”
“Now I’m proud of younger me for following my heart because my lifeissimpler now, but in a much better way. I know that I’m significantly happier than I ever would’ve been otherwise.”
I tilt my head, feeling an emotion I can’t place swell in my chest. “I’m proud of younger you too.” His throat rolls against a swallow, and a moment passes between us before I add, “Your turn.”