EVA.    My lips are parted with no words slipping through and the board falls from my hold as I stare at Emerson with wide eyes.    "I don't just think, Eva. I know I am. " He dares to repeat his words, in a firmer tone this time and I shake my head. "You don't mean those words. "   "Yes, I do, " he argues and I take a step back. "You don't, Emerson. You don't love me. You've never loved—"   "It's different now, Carson. It's fucking different!" He snaps, his chest falling and rising rapidly with each thick breath he takes and I turn away from him, tears burning the corner of my eyes but I'm quick to blink them back.    "Eva—" his voice echoes behind me but I don't let him finish. "You can't mean those words. You need to stop speaking this way, Ford. You need to stop fucking with my head. "   "I'm just fucking with your head!" He hisses and he's

EVA.  Emerson stops the car at our usual spot and I turn to my side, watching him as he unfastens his seatbelt before he twists his body to my view.  "Had fun?" He glimpses at the books that are in the backseat and my eyes follow his before I meet his gaze and smile, "I did. " We spent hours at the bookstore and more than half of the time was me and Emerson arguing, him distracting me by saying something naughty and leaving me a mindless idiot in front of him, or him promising he has a copy of the book I picked. It was chaotic, it was wild and it was fun: a combination that I can find with Emerson Ford and Emerson Ford only.  "Want to go back to my place to read some of these?" Emerson's questions pull me back to the view that's in front of me, and I stare at him, waiting for him to break into a laugh, but he doesn't. He keeps the straight face on as he awaits my response and I point a finger at him, then

EVA.  I cover the pot after adding the sauce to the pasta before I press my hands to the edge of the counter with a fall of my chest.  I steady my feet at the sound of footsteps, and then Emerson is behind me. "Hey, " he whispers as he buries his face in my neck, his breath fanning the skin.  "I thought you weren't going to cook?" He queries as he turns me around to meet his view and I say, "You went to take a call, and you said to look after it. I couldn't exactly sit and watch. " He smiles and brushes his lips against my nose. "My good girl. " I drop my eyes from him to his pocket where I'm sure his phone lies before I look back at his face. "Only sometimes. " "I love both sides, " he nudges my nose with his finger before he lifts me in his arms and walks forward to drop me back on the counter.  "I'll take it from he

EVA.  I slam the door shut as I pace to my bed, slipping out of my slippers before I climb on it and slide under the duvet.  I pull it up to my chest and turn to lie with my back against the bed as I stare up at the ceiling and Emerson's words flow through my mind.  I shake the voice off my mind and try not to think of the commotion that the topic has caused between the two of us as I stare at my door; half expecting Emerson Ford to walk through it, and half wanting him to not.  I know I won't sleep well without Emerson's arms around me and his body pressed to mine, but I force my eyes closed as I turn on my side, knowing confronting Emerson again is the last thing that I want to do, because things will be said and more damages will only be done.  One angry word will lead to two and two will lead to several. Several words will lead to unthoughtful decisio

EVA.  His lips meet mine and everything else becomes non-existent as he brings me into the world only he is capable of– the world where there's nothing but me and him with the feelings and desires that burns between us. The world that's come to be one of comfort, and the world that's come to be our special place.  "Make it yours this time?" Emerson pulls back to request and I'm only able to give a nod before I capture his lips in mine and slide my hands over his shoulder while Emerson leads us in the direction of my room.  It isn't long before we find our way to my room, managing to not stumble along the way as Emerson adjusts me in his arms and strides to my bed.  He places me on the mattress before he draws back to remove his pants and his boxers. I watch as he pulls his shirt over his head, and I let my eyes move down the art that's considered his body with the muscles ye