Page 27 of Grace on the Rocks

Currently, Emma was behind him, staring at his back. She couldn't help but be in awe of him. He was a little pale, to be honest, but his skin was stretched taut with muscle and she couldn't help but be in awe of his beauty, paleness and all. And she couldn't talk, either. It wasn't like she didn't wear sunscreen or went out of her way to tan. She was pretty pale as well. And he seemed to think k she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen before.

Emma shrugged. "There is something you should know about me," she murmured, her lips turning up as she sat on the edge of the bed in her towel. "I tell my father everything. So he does know I spent the night with you. If I showed up in one of your t-shirts, it would scream sex. I would rather just show up in my clothes from last night so he's not bombarded with the fact that I got naked at your house."

Kyle grinned, walking over to her. "Isn't that what your wet hair will do on its own?" he asked, reaching out and twirling a damp strand of it around his long finger.

"Showers are much more acceptable to him than bed head and men's shirts," she told him.

She stood and dropped her towel so she was naked in front of Kyle. Immediately, his eyes darkened and he couldn't resist placing his hands on her hips. It was as though he needed to touch her in some way, like he couldn't be around her without physical contact, especially if she was this naked. He had slipped on a pair of boxer briefs and jeans but his feet and torso were bare. His short hair also was filled with water and she loved the way it clung to his face.

"So this thing," she said, stepping closer to him, "between you and me." She cocked her head to the side. "Do we label it yet? Is it too soon? Should I even question it?"

He chuckled, pushing her wet bangs to the side so they didn't tease the top of her eyelids.

Emma felt her cheeks turn pink. She was thinking too much, talking too much. She wouldn't be surprise if she scared Kyle off.

"What do you want to do?" he asked her, cocking his head to the side and staring at her with warm blue eyes. He was leaning the majority of his weight on his right palm, pressed down into the bed, thrusting his shoulder up by his ear. His fingers reached out so they could caress hers.

Emma shrugged, keeping her hand in place. She didn't want him to move it, didn't want him to leave her without his touch on her body in some way. Her eyes dropped down to their connecting bodies. It was interesting how even the slightest of butterfly touches made her heart thrum against her chest, Luke her skin was fully magnetized and he was this conductor of electricity. She didn't understand why he had such an affect on her, but she didn't immediately reject the idea. Not when it made her feel so good. Not when it felt so right.

"I don't know how this works," she told him honestly, her brown eyes unable to leave his blue ones. "I've dated around, I've had a couple of serious boyfriends, but I don't know what I should do versus what I could do..." She shrugged her shoulders again, helpless to find the right words. It was the only way Emma could ever be helpless.

"I've had less experience than you," he pointed out, "but from what I learned, there are no rules. People assume there are, and they give power to these rules. The problem is, those rules take away power from you and me. We should get to decide how this works. I know this couple who got together after a month. They had sex the second date but they were crazy with each other. He's ten years older than her with two kids from a previous relationship and a bitch ex. They tease each other and work at the romance because it doesn't come naturally for them. But they care about each other. They got married under a year, eloped to Hawaii, and have two kids together. They've been together for five years and counting and they come from two different cultures. It works for them because they followed their own rules." He paused so his words could sink in. "So I'll ask you again, Emma, what do you want? Because that's what we should base our rules on. What we both want."

Emma took a moment, then two. What did she want?

"Honestly?" she told him. "I'm pretty open to anything. But, if I am investing this time in you and this relationship, I want monogamy. I want your commitment. I want the freedom to dance and not worry about neglecting you. I want your support when I apply to schools in New York. I don't want who I am to change because I'm dating you."

His smile widened, crawling across his face. He removed his hand from her touch only to cup the back of her head and bring her onto a kiss.

"I want exactly what you want," he told her. "Which means, I guess, that I'm your boyfriend, that this is a little more serious than just dating, and that I'm yours."

She smiled and kissed him quickly on the mouth. Maybe Emma had a rough time at finding the right words, but Kyle didn't seem to have that problem.

Thank God.

"Now, come on." Kyle stood up and headed back over to his walk-in closet. "We can't leave your father waiting. I'm sure he's ecstatic to meet the man dating your daughter."