Secrets and Silhouettes

Pizza and Emmet

"Hi," I say as I jump up to greet her.

"Who are you and how did you get in?"

I walk to the kitchen island and pick up Pike’s key. “Pike gave me his key. He said I could stay here till he gets off work,” I say. “He also said you would be at netball practice till five’ish.”

“Good answer,” she retorts. “Coach moved practice, weather and all.”

“That makes sense. Do you want some coffee?” I ask.

“Can I have some of that fancy coffee?”

“I wouldn't have it any other way,” I say.

Emily looks at me questioningly. “Why do you call him Pike?”

“Is that not his name?”

“No, that's his surname. His name is Emmet.”

“Ah, I didn't know that. Now that I know, I'll call him by his name.”

As the weather starts to pick up, thunder rumbles louder and lightning flashes across the sky. The temperature drops and darkness envelops the surroundings. The once-warm atmosphere turns chilly, sending shivers down my spine. The impending storm casts a shadow over the house, and I begin to feel the cold seeping into my bones.

Emily hands me one of Emmet's jackets, insisting I put it on to ward off the chill. "Here, put this on," she says, her tone gentle yet firm. I hesitate, concerned about wearing Emmet's clothes without his permission.

"Will it not bother Emmet that I am wearing his clothes?" I ask, voicing my apprehension. "No, but it will upset him if I do not help you. Here, put this on too," she insists, pressing a ball of socks into my hand.

"Do you know how to play Cluedo?" I slip Emmet's jacket over my shoulders, inhaling his scent deeply. "I do, yes. You want to play?" I reply, trying to distract myself from his lingering scent. "Yes, please," Emily responds eagerly, setting up the game on the kitchen island.

"I have not played in so long," I admit, wrinkling my nose. "Will you help me as we play?" "Of course, I will," Emily assures me, shuffling the cards before instructing me to draw one and place it face down in a small card sleeve.

We play a few rounds of Cluedo when there's a knock at the door. Emily and I exchange puzzled looks, unsure of who it could be. "Emi, open the door," calls out a familiar voice. Emily rushes to the door and swings it open to reveal Emmet standing there. I stand up and approach him, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement. As he gazes at me, a smile slowly spreads across his face when he notices the board game set up on the kitchen island.

"Want some coffee? It's one of those fancy ones," Emily chirps, eager to offer him a treat.

Emmet's expression shifts to curiosity. "Yeah, sorry, I needed some decent coffee to stay awake," I say.

"So, you bought a coffee machine?" Emily asks, surprised.

"I did," I chime in, lifting my finger and pointing to myself. "Coffee addict in the house."

"Em, you should taste it. It's really good," I urge, wanting her to experience the deliciousness of the coffee.

"Yeah, Em, you should. It tastes better than other stuff feels," I blurt out, instantly realizing the awkwardness of my comparison. Emmet's surprised expression mirrors my own, but he simply laughs it off, easing the tension.

"Sure," he says with a grin, "I'd love to taste coffee that tastes better than other stuff feels." His playful comment causes me to blush bright red, grateful for my full-coverage makeup. Despite my embarrassment, I can't help but smile at his humor.

"What's for dinner?" Emily interrupts, changing the subject.

"Can we have pizza? I haven't had pizza in a long time," I suggest, eager to indulge in a comforting meal.

“Sure, order in, or do go and find the best pizza?” Emmet asks.

“Order in,” both of them say simultaneously.

“Order in it is,” I agree.

“Emily, you can choose the toppings,” I say

As I placed the pizza order, Emily explained the tangy Russian topping as caramelized onions and Russians, piquing my curiosity. While I prepared coffee, Emily eagerly requested a cup, while Emmet simply nodded in agreement.

"I'm quickly going to take a shower," Emmet announced, unfazed by the storm outside.

"With the thunder going around outside?" I asked, surprised.

"Yes, I'll be quick," he assured.

I brewed Emily's coffee first, followed by mine. As I sipped on my coffee, thoughts of Emmet crept into my mind – his wet skin, miles, and miles of naked wet skin, the sound of the rain does not help with the vivid images in my head – but I quickly pushed them aside. I couldn't allow myself to entertain such thoughts.

As I moved towards the door, my focus solely on the impending interruption, I collided with Emmet in an unexpected collision. "Ohh, ouch," I exclaimed, more out of reflex than any real pain, feeling his strong grip around my waist as he steadied me. "Emi, please can you get the door?" he requested, his attention momentarily diverted. When his gaze returned to me, concern etched across his features, he asked, "Are you okay?" Despite the initial shock, I found comfort in his touch, reassured by his presence in that fleeting moment of disorientation.

As I struggled to form a coherent response, my eyes inadvertently wandered over Emmet's shirtless form, clad only in shorts, and I couldn't help but marvel at the sculpted masterpiece before me. His physique was every girl's dream, a symphony of toned muscles accentuated by his tanned skin, exuding an undeniable allure. It felt almost unfair how effortlessly attractive he appeared. My hand, seemingly of its own volition, was drawn irresistibly toward his magnetic abs, fingers tracing the contours with a mixture of curiosity and admiration.

The back of my fingers effortlessly traced the ripples and ridges of his abdomen, each movement sending a jolt of excitement through me. It was undeniably arousing, and I couldn't deny the rush of infatuation I felt for him in that moment. "What, why, how?" I blurted out, my words a jumbled mess. Mortified, I quickly cleared my throat and attempted to salvage the situation. "Sorry, I did not mean to... touch you," I stammered, hoping my apology made some semblance of sense.

"No problem, I'm used to that," he replied casually, seemingly unfazed by the unexpected contact. Confusion clouded my expression as he addressed Emily, diverting the conversation. "Emi, grab your pizza, you should eat and get ready for bed," he instructed, effectively shifting the focus away from our awkward encounter.

“Grab the pizza and come with me.” As Emmet and I step onto the porch, I notice the gentle command in his voice. I follow his lead, carrying the two pizza boxes in my arms. The coolness of the porch embraces us, a welcomed relief from the humid air inside. Raindrops patter against the roof, creating a soothing rhythm.

Thunder rumbles in the distance, punctuating the quietude with its deep resonance. Lightning streaks across the darkened sky, illuminating the surroundings in brief flashes of light. The canvas material lining the sides of the porch flutters softly in the breeze, providing a sense of shelter from the elements while still allowing us to feel connected to the outdoor ambiance.

For the first time in a long while, I found myself truly enjoying dinner. There were no fancy place settings with multiple forks and spoons, just the simple pleasure of eating with our hands. As we dug into the pizza, I couldn't help but notice Emmet's amused glance as I made a mess on his jacket. Sheepishly, I removed it and attempted to clean up the stains on my shirt. His laughter filled the air, easing any embarrassment I felt. Suddenly, he stood up and disappeared momentarily, returning with a clean shirt for me and a plate to catch any further spills. His thoughtful gesture warmed my heart.

Pointing at the plate, he proposed, "Dare or dare?" I chuckled. "I don't think that's how it works." "Fine, dare," he replied. "You can have this plate if you change into this shirt right now, right here," he challenged. My heart skipped a beat. I had never changed my shirt in front of anyone, not even my closest friends. This was definitely a new experience. "Fine," I agreed, steeling myself. With a confident stride, I met his gaze and slowly removed my shirt.

As I approached him, I could sense his surprise. "May I have the shirt please?" I asked, catching him off guard with my unexpected response.

By the time I had changed shirts, taken the plate from him, and sat down to finish my pizza, Emmet was still frozen in place. I noticed he hadn't moved yet.

“Emmet,” I said, putting my plate down and getting up again. “Are you okay?”

“Uhm, yes, I am,” he replied, finally snapping out of his daze and sitting down on his chair.

“New game,” he announced, suddenly energized. “Emmet 101 for the next 15 minutes,” he declared.