Page 72 of Your Rule to Break

“You good?” Emilie asks.

I take her in; the crimson curls, cheeks glowing from a few hours out in the sun where she learned to throw a decent spiral pass. I put my finger under her chin and put a kiss to her mouth, tasting the smokiness of the mezcal.

“All good. Let’s get some food and how about we try to catch the sunset on the beach?”

“Sounds perfect.”

We’re walking toward theocean as the sun is about to go down. There’s baskets full of blankets and pillows before you hit the sand. I grab a blanket as Emilie takes her heels off. We walk closer to the water and find a spot, put the blanket down, and I sit first.

“I always forget how cold it can get by the ocean at night.” She rubs her shoulders with her hands.

I spread my legs. “Sit here, lean back on me.”

Emilie gets comfortable, and I wrap my arms around her.

“You’re warm,” she says, content and quiet.

“I think you mean hot. I’m hot,” I joke.

She snickers and leans harder into me. “Yes, you are hot.”

All jokes aside, we sit and soak in the serenity. It’s the rhythm of the waves crashing into the beach, the smell of the sand and salt. The sun dipping down, transforming the sky into blues, pinks, and oranges.

I take a deep breath, my chest pushing into Emilie’s back, and it’s comfortable.

“Can I ask you a question?” Emilie starts.

“Always.”

“Riley said you’d never brought someone home, as an adult. Is that true?”

I’m sure Riley did tell her that, plus whatever random thought crossed her brain and fell out of her mouth. Out of everything she could’ve asked, this is tame.

“That’s true. I mean, I’ve been on lots of dates, but never with the same person. It wasn’t really a thought to bring any of them home,” I tell her the truth.

“But your fake girlfriend was?”

I take a few seconds to try and get my thoughts together.

“Emilie, whatever we are, whatever this is,” I shake her shoulders for good measure, “Isn’t fake. I don’t know if it ever was.”

She peels her back from my front and turns to face me. She’s quickly on her knees, sitting back on her heels, her red dress splayed out in front of her.

“Say it again.”

“This isn’t fake.” I lean forward and capture her mouth with a searing kiss. It lingers and presses. My tongue reaches for hers, and then touches the seam of her lips.

“You mean it?” Emilie looks dazed and almost like she’s dreaming.

I tilt my head and search her eyes. “Does it feel like I don’t?”

She plays with her fingers in her lap. “It feels like you do but part of me wonders if it’s because I want you. So badly. Like I want this to be true.”

“It is true. Remember, we broke your rules. We made it true. This is what feels right.”

“Shouldn’t we talk more about this?” She points between the two of us.

“What do you want to talk about?” I want to give her the space but don’t know what she’s looking for.