The Reason Why

EMERALD

When I woke up, I couldn’t remember the last time I had slept so well. It had to have been years. Before my junior year in high school, maybe?

That was when I became so obsessed with earning every cent of my college education. Somewhere between graduation and the beginning of that higher education, perhaps? Around the time Dad got his diagnosis, for sure.

That was a long time ago.

It felt strange, though. I could feel the insanely expensive sheets on far more of my skin than I thought I should since I went to sleep in my usual—

~Oh my god! I totally slept with Tate! No, no. I ~had sex~ with Tate!~

“Stop freaking out and go back to sleep, Emerald,” Tate muttered sleepily against the back of my neck.

“I’m not freaking out.” I flinched when I squeaked.

“Bullshit, shrimp.” He chuckled and kissed my shoulder as he sat up on one elbow. He moved the hair off the side of my face and leaned over me, kissing my cheek. “You’re completely freaking out.”

“No, I’m not.” I tried to sound more sure of it this time, but I really wasn’t a good liar. Not when I was put on the spot like this.

“Talk to me, Emerald. What is it that’s bothering you?” he asked, reaching over me to turn my head with a hand on my cheek.

“This is probably the best morning of my life, and if it’s not that for you, I want to know how I can change that.”

“I’m…not sure you can?” I guessed. “Not quickly, anyhow.”

“What is it?” he asked again, kissing my lips softly.

“You can’t guess?” I cringed, and he sighed, kissed my nose, my cheek, and sat up on his elbow again.

“I can guess,” he said. “This isn’t the same thing, you know. ~That~ was finding a cup of dirty water in a desert. ~This~ is an oasis.”

“Or a mirage,” I pointed out.

“Do you think it is after last night?” he asked. “When you woke up, did you think it was some shimmering figment of your imagination?”

“Kind of, actually.” I laughed and turned a little to look up at him. “We’re going to be okay, still. Right? You won’t wake up one day and this will just be gone?”

“Not a chance in hell.” He smiled. “I’ve built my life on seeing the long-term results of every interaction with every person I meet.

“I was raised that way. My father was raised that way. My mother was, too, in a sense. So long as you’re in it with me, I can see this being very, very, long term.”

He kissed me after the last four words, giving me a nibble on the lip when he was done, and smiled at me. He looked so sure of himself. I guess he made a point, though.

He’d been making a damn good living on his ability to see “long term,” as he said.

I should have trusted his outlook, but something just…wouldn’t. Some lingering form of self-preservation, maybe? Whatever it was, it was annoying.

“I want to believe you. I ~do~ believe you.” I chewed on my lip.

“But?” he asked.

“But history proves otherwise.” I shook my head. “Like I said, it’s not something that has a quick fix. I know you’re doing everything you can, and that’s perfect, Tate. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Recently.” He pulled his lips thin.

“This is on me, not you. Just keep being amazing, and I’ll get my head right, okay?”

I looked at him. I don’t know if what I was feeling more was being scared he’d get annoyed or worried I was pushing him toward an end I couldn’t survive.

“I’m sorry.”

“What?” I frowned, so utterly confused.

“Your head wouldn’t be in that state if I wasn’t so…dysfunctional.” He sighed and flopped backward onto the pillows.

“You aren’t dysfunctional, Tate.” I rolled my eyes and turned over so I was now the one on my elbows. “You’re just a little behind the curve. You’re proving to be a great study, though, so there’s hope for you yet.”

“Glad to know I’m improving.” He chuckled and used the arm I was lying on to pull me down so that his chest was my pillow. “I’ve never told anyone about why I can’t seem to make relationships work.”

“Vince said he only recently figured it out, and he felt like he’s let you down.” I drew my eyebrows down.

“Stupid,” Tate said.

“You should tell him that.” I tilted my head to look at him.

“After I tell you a few things. Maybe it’ll help.” He put his other hand over mine on his stomach.

“Affection isn’t really something my parents were forthcoming with. They could barely stand each other, so when they saw so much of the person they were forced to live with but couldn’t stand in their children…

“You can guess why we were sent off to boarding school the second we were old enough.”

“That sounds very toxic.” I frowned. “That’s how it really was between them? How can anyone raise children like that?”

“They had as little to do with us as they could.” He shrugged. “Having money means you have the means to hire the proverbial village to raise your kids for you.”

“I could never do that.” I shook my head on his shoulder.

“Me either. For some people, it turns out okay, but there’s a lot of abandonment issues.” He nodded.

“My parents didn’t want me, my older brother didn’t want me, the staff changed, so in my younger mind, I took it as they didn’t want me either.

“I guess it turned into a sick defensive measure. If I don’t get involved, I can’t get disappointed.

“If I kept myself from putting too much in, I wouldn’t feel the same way I did every time I needed my mother and she turned away or when I could have used my father’s presence and was deemed less important.”

“That… That’s just… Who the fuck raises kids that way?” I sat up on my elbow and looked at him. “I’m sorry, but you have shitty parents.”

“Trust me, I know. Get back down here. Angry shrimp, I swear.” He pulled me back down with a chuckle. “It wasn’t so bad once I got older, I guess. I had a clearer value, became more useful.”

“That’s complete bullshit,” I snapped. “You ~always~ have value. ~Everyone~ is worth more than can ever be defined.”

“Not to my parents,” he said, as if it was some known fact, like the sun was fucking bright as fuck if you looked right at it. “Seeing how it’s supposed to be, was like seeing an alien life-form.”

“I bet it fucking was,” I muttered, and he ran his hand over my hair, chuckling. “How can you laugh about it? Doesn’t it piss you off?”

“Does it piss you off that your birth parents put you up for adoption?” he asked.

“It did. For a long time.” I nodded. “But I ended up with the best parents I could have gotten, an older brother, and a lifetime of memories that I wouldn’t trade for anything.”

“I was, and still kind of am, angry, Emerald. I always will be, I think, but I’ve let it go. I can’t change it, so I stopped wasting my energy.” He nodded. “I knew I was…”

“Emotionally stunted?” I supplied, and he pinched my side, making me flinch before he kissed my forehead, his stubble tickling my nose.

“I was going to say, ‘at a disadvantage,’ brat,” he growled playfully.

“Placating, Mr. King.” I giggled and poked him in the stomach, making him jump and grab my hand tightly.

“Don’t tickle me, Emerald,” he warned me, and I gave him my best innocent look, which he rolled his eyes at.

“I knew I wasn’t normal with that kind of thing, but I never cared to fix it. It was ~my~ normal, so even though I saw the flaws, it seemed unnecessary to change.”

“So, why now?” I looked up at him.

“I found something worth risking it for.” He looked back at me.

“Damn you, Tate,” I hissed as my whole body flushed and my vagina suddenly became Niagara Falls.

“I’m beginning to sense a pattern here, Shrimp.” He laughed, and I glared. “Are you wet?”

“Stop it,” I snapped.

“I think you are.” He grinned like a fucking demon. “I didn’t think you’d be the mushy romantic type after you laughed so hard at that movie.”

“I’m not.” I tried to sit up, but his arm held me down.

“Your pussy is, though,” he said as he lifted his leg so that his thigh was pressed firmly against my mound.

“Stop that,” I said, trying to be firm, but it came out on a sigh, dammit.

“I would, but I don’t think you really want me to, do you?” He kissed my cheek.

“No,” I whimpered, giving up. This was a fight I wasn’t going to win. Hell, I didn’t even ~want~ to fight, but I had to be able to say I tried, right?

“That was the only condom I had left, but I can still make you feel good,” he promised as he let my hand go and lifted my knee, planting my foot on the bed. “Just like that, baby.”

I moaned loudly as he sank a finger into me, coating it with my very abundant arousal, before rubbing softly on my clit.

I could already feel the seams of reality fraying and he’d barely touched me. He was ~good~. I had to give him that. He was really good at making me break apart.

He played me like his favorite instrument until I thought for sure I was going to die from sexual tension.

In complete contrast to his gentle playing, he slammed his fingers into me and started a ruthless thrusting that had me screaming his name as I jolted into an out-of-body experience unlike anything I’d ever felt before.

He slowed and massaged that glorious G-spot, prolonging and adding more to my climax until the wild ride of pleasure began to calm, and I slowly came down from my high, panting and limp like an overcooked noodle.

“Better?” he asked, his hand stilling.

“Mhm,” I hummed.

“So beautiful,” he whispered, kissing me as he removed his fingers slowly. “It gets better every second I spend with you. How is that even possible?”

“Hey, are you two done now? I know Emma is, but are you getting out of bed yet?”

There was a knock on the door and Devon’s voice. “I’m knocking this time, so don’t bring out the bunnies.”

“Fuck off, Devon!” Tate bellowed, and I pulled the sheet up to cover my mortification.

~That’s what I forgot about last night! Devon! Oh, dear gods of all religions, past, present, and future, tell me he went to a hotel last night or something. Fuck,~ anything~. So long as he wasn’t here!~

“That explains why there was only one condom in the drawer.” Tate groaned as he tugged at the sheet to find my eyes. “I’m so sorry, baby. I had no idea. Do you want me to get your slipper?”

I narrowed my eyes at him, and he pulled back slightly.

“Prepare the fish,” I growled.

“I only have canned fish.” He chuckled.

“Even better.”