Page 36 of Riding the Curve

ME: I thought I told you to lose my number.

I bite my lip, nervously watching the dots ripple back and forth on the screen. What if he doesn’t realize that was meant to be a joke?

DONOTANSWER: I’d already lost enough. I wasn’t about to lose that, too.

My stomach twists. I can almost hear the strain in his voice while my eyes glaze over each sentence.

ME: Help would be appreciated. I may break my back trying to lug these things into Ryleigh’s truck. Can you give me about thirty minutes to get ready?

After I send it, I change his profile name.

EM: Take all the time you need, Trouble.

For the longest time, that nickname has conjured up the memories of that night, no matter what context I heard the word. I had begun to loathe the sound of it. Until now.

Now, all it does is swarm my body with electricity. Filling me with warmth from the inside out. I palm the front of my face, slowly dragging it down as I exhale. Still unsure if I’m making the right decision, I roll off the couch and get dressed. After making a coffee and forcing myself to eat a muffin, I shoot a text to Emerson.

Here we go.

“Take care of her, Emerson,” Dad says from behind me, his tone deeper than usual. His lips are in a tight line as he stands behind me with his arms crossed over his chest. I can’t help but roll my eyes.

“Hey, take it down a notch! It’s just Em, not some boyfriend I’m bringing home to meet for the first time. You can cut the protective father act now.” I pat his chest reassuringly. His dark brows furrow down at me, which only makes a laugh tumble free. He may tower above me by several inches and put on an intimidating front, but Dad is really nothing but a big ol’ teddy bear.

When he came down the stairs this morning, he shoved a coffee in my hand and insisted on carrying all my luggage out to the driveway.

Emerson shoves the large suitcase into his trunk with a grunt, then heads toward me to grab the demon carry-on. As he walks by me, his arm brushes against my exposed skin and my breath hitches. Casually, he leans down and lifts the suitcase into his arms with ease. Before he heads back to deposit it into the truck bed, he leans in close to my ear. Hovering just inches away.

“Just Em, huh?” The low, gravelly sound of his voice makes my toes curl. I rub my palms over my arms to hide the goosebumps that instantly litter the bare space. He leans back with a smirk, taking the suitcase and the air in my lungs along with him.

Closing the tailgate, Emerson turns to my father and outstretches his hand. Dad raises a brow, his lips slowly tipping up as he reaches out to shake Em’s.

Still gripping Dad’s hand, Em leans in close but still talks loud enough that I can hear. “I promise I’ll look after her, Tripp. She’ll be in good hands over at the Lane’s.”

“You both know I’m a grown woman who can take care of herself, right?” I chuckle, shaking my head at them both as I toss my backpack into the backseat of the truck. Emerson’s lips twitch with mirth as my Dad raises a brow.

“Well, I would believe that a little more if we didn’t have to call you a zillion times just to get you to pick up the phone in New York.”

I wince. Yeah, he does have a point there. “Okay, okay! Fair point. I promise to make sure to ride over here at least twice a week for a visit.”

Dad crosses his arms over his chest. “Three.”

“Two,” I fire back, laughter warming my words. “And I throw in some baking lessons with Lyla each week to sweeten the deal.”

“Deal!” His grin spreads wide as he grabs my dangling hand and shakes it.

“Can I count on you to make sure she holds up her end of the deal?” Dad raises a brow toward Em.

“Absolutely.” He winks at me. “This should be entertaining.”

Dad’s shoulders relax, the small tilt of his lips growing into a full-on grin. “I always knew I liked you.” He pulls Em in for a hug and pats his back before releasing him.

Men. Laughter bubbles out of me as I shake my head and make my way to the passenger side of the truck.

“Don’t think you’re escaping without one of these, too!”

I’m almost halfway in the seat when Dad grabs my arm and pulls me into a bear hug. As he kisses the top of my head, he whispers, “I’m proud of you, baby girl. Just remember I’m always here if you need me.”

Snuggling further into his chest, my heart squeezes tight.