In a Rush (Friendship, Rhode Island #2)

by Kate Canterbary

“That’s good because I won’t marry a QB averaging fewer than two hundred passing yards a game.” “One, you know my average is two-seventy and two, let’s get married this weekend.”

“Muggsy,” he said with a sigh. “What the fuck just happened?” “Nothing,” I said, a little breathless. “Just a small laundry situation. On the stairs. Where my phone was eaten. By a sweater.” He was quiet for a second. “Are you fucking with me again?” “This time, no, I’m not.” Another pause. “Are you all right?” “Yeah, of course.” I sounded like I’d just run a mile. “You were saying something about this weekend?” “Do me a favor and sit down first,” he said.

“Go ahead. I’m safe in my bed.” “You’re—oh. Yeah.” I heard him swallow a gulp of something and then clear his throat. “Let’s get married this weekend.” The word “Okay” fell out of my mouth automatically and then, after a hazy blink, “Wait. Grace’s housewarming party is on Saturday and—and we can’t miss that.” “We won’t miss it.” He shifted and I heard a rough exhale. He was probably sore after all that practice. “Friday, then.”

“Yeah?” I could hear the smile in his voice. I liked that I’d put it there. “Yeah. Yes. Friday,” I replied. “What do you need me to do?” He hesitated. “Do you trust me?” “Unless you’re talking about us jumping out of an airplane or engaging in ritualistic sacrifice, I think you know I do.” “Neither of those apply here,” he said. “Let me take care of everything. All you have to do is come home after school and we’ll go from there.”

“You really want to do this with me?” “I wouldn’t do it with anyone else.”

“Grace is leaving. She got a new job for next year.” “Shit,” he murmured. “Are you okay?” “It doesn’t feel real yet. It probably won’t until the new school year starts up and I have to be nice to the stranger who takes over her classroom.” I brushed some hair away from my face. “But I don’t want to talk about it right now. My feelings are too messy.” “I don’t care. Be messy.”

“It just hurts, you know?” “I do.” I heard the water shut off. “It sucks when people leave, even if they leave for valid reasons.” “Yeah.” We didn’t say anything for a minute but the silence was comfortable. It was easy. I decided to shatter it with, “How’s the tub there? Designed for your oversized species?” A surprised huff burst from him and then, “What?” “I mean, I’m only asking because it’s not like you fit in the average bathtub. I’m just picturing those gangly limbs of yours packed in there while you sit in an inch of water.”

“It’s more than an inch,” he said. “But I think you already knew that.” I ceased to exist. The pulsing between my legs seemed to suggest I was very much alive but the rest of me was deceased. And my first realization in the afterlife was that flirting was new for us. We didn’t do this. There’d always been affection between us but this was something different. And I liked it. “The tub is deep. Comfortable.” He made a raspy, growly sound. “Bet it could fit two.” “But you like being alone.” I almost slapped myself for that. I didn’t know what was wrong with me. Probably something to do with being dead. “Not always.” “Oh. Hmm. Yeah.” “It’s a nice place,” he went on, immune to my sputtering. “Great pillows. I might ask them to send some home with me. I like a good pillow.” I could still hear the water as if he was pouring one handful after another down his chest. Like he intended for me to hear that. “Big bed. I like that too.”

“You are something of a beast so that’s understandable.” “Is that what you think?” “Am I wrong?” I asked, all indignant teasing. Another splash. A sound like skin running over skin. And then, “You have no idea.”

But it wasn’t just one phone call. It was my new hair and his visit to my school. It was moving Ines to his condo and my tangerines on the plane. It was being able to take a deep enough breath to hold my head up and feeling like I mattered enough to someone to order a fuck-ton of antibacterial wipes for their classroom. And it was getting myself off on his leg last weekend too. I hadn’t been the only one playing then, just as I wasn’t now.

I smiled as I said, “I think I have some idea.” He sucked in a breath and I knew—I knew there was no turning back from here. The Ryan and Emme of the past were gone and this new version of us, this couple, were much more than childhood friends. I didn’t know what lived in the dark unknown of that much more but I knew we’d figure it out—together. Like we always did. “Have you softened up yet?” I asked. A choked sound echoed around him. “Not even close.” He cleared his throat and then turned the water on again. “You told me a few months ago you wanted to be married. You wanted to be settled.” “Yeah,” I said, snuggling into the pillows. “I do.” “What does that look like for you? Is it a house and kids? A backyard for some dogs to run around? Or a brownstone in the city and traveling every chance you get? What is it?” It took me a minute to find the right words. “I don’t care about the house, the backyard. The place, the things—they don’t matter. They’ve never mattered. I just want something that belongs to me. Something that’s permanent.” “And the kids?” I scowled at the bottles of vitamins, supplements, pain relievers, and hormones lined up on the bedside table. “That’s complicated.” “Why? Because of your condition?” he asked. “Or because you haven’t decided about kids?” “The world is a riotous, melting disaster and I’m truly concerned about handing over that shit show to anyone,” I said. “But I’ve always been told getting pregnant could be difficult. For me. So. I’m not sur...

“Are we talking about your big-headed babies again?” I asked. “Because I have some questions about how that’d work.” “No one’s had the talk with you yet?” I could hear the sharp grin in his voice. “Don’t worry. I’ll explain everything.”

“What are you doing?” he asked. “Changing into pajamas,” I said, because I wasn’t going to explain the real issue. “You’re—Jesus, Emme.” A groan, a ragged exhale, and then the water turned off. “I’m warning you right now I’m not in the mood for another one of your fuck-arounds.” “You’re not in the mood? Please. Don’t you think I have better things to do?” I asked as I pulled a tank top over my head. “I mean, I’m getting married in two days and I might have to birth some giant babies bred for the backfield. Fucking with you about whether I’m wandering around my room topless⁠—” “Emmeline.” “—is the least of my priorities.”

I heard a long, muffled growl and then, “If you’re not fucking with me, switch over to video.” Without thinking any of this through, I tapped the icon and found myself staring at Ryan. Naked. Glistening. Submerged halfway up his chest. All of which was to be expected in a bathtub. Brighter minds might’ve caught on to this before initiating a video call. “Hello there.” I blinked a few times too many as I drank in his wet chest, wet shoulders, wet hair. And all that ink on display. I really wanted to know about those flowers tucked in between the trees and waves and everything else. With an exaggerated gesture to my shirt, I said, “Pajamas.”

“I can see that.” I folded my legs in front of me and leaned back against the pillows. I knew this shirt was thin and, in the right light, a touch see-through. His gaze dropped to the V-neck, then lower. His eyes flared and I had to ask, “Are you happy now?” “Like you wouldn’t believe,” he growled.

The attention turned my nipples to tight, rosy points right around the time I noticed his free hand had disappeared under the water. His shoulder shifted and there was a slight bunch and pull in his biceps. I had a good idea where that hand had gone and what it was doing—even if I didn’t know what we were doing.

“I told you I had it under control.” At this, I shrugged, sending the V of my shirt a little deeper. His eyes snapped shut and he said with a huge exhale, “Either you trust me to do this or you don’t.” “Okay, okay, calm down.” I snuggled deep into the blankets, grinning like crazy. There were times when I wondered if I was something of an unhinged bitch or just a lovable brat who liked to pester her deeply pester-able friend. It was probably a mashup of both. “You know I trust you.” “Yeah.” He ran a wet hand down his face. “It’s a good thing I trust you too, Muggs.”

Ryan emerged from the den, his hard, stoic expression warming into a smile as he approached. He wore a dark blue suit and an immaculately tailored white shirt with a faint pattern I couldn’t make out. His collar was open at his throat and his jacket already discarded. “You look—” He stared at me, shaking his head. He took my hand and I did what anyone wearing a flouncy skirt would—I twirled. Brushing a finger along the ribbon ties at my shoulder, he added quietly, “I like this. It’s you.” “I thought so too.”

“Ryan, do you take Emmeline to be your⁠—” “I do.” He brought his free hand to the bouquet, lacing his fingers with mine as I laughed. A grin started at the corner of his mouth and it unfurled into a wide smile that had my heart pounding in my chest and a few overwhelmed tears fogging my eyes. After all these years, I was marrying this sweet, broody boy. “Yes to all of it. Everything. I do.” “Not wasting any time. I like it.” The officiant chuckled. “Emmeline, do you take Ryan to be your⁠—” “I do too,” I said, still laughing. “Then I won’t make you wait another minute. By the power vested in me by the Commonwealth of Massachusetts⁠—” There was more to that sentence but it was lost to me when Ryan brought his hand to the back of my neck and sealed his lips to mine. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and sank into the kiss, holding this moment as tight as possible.

“Cake,” Ryan whispered, his lips barely a breath from mine. “I promised you cake.” I ran a hand down the back of his neck. His eyes fluttered shut and the growly noise in his chest made me think about the way my fingers felt as they tripped over velvet. “It’s a requirement. We’re not legally married without sharing some cake.” “Yes, a wise woman told me all about that.” He laughed as he straightened the ribbons at my shoulders. “Let me show you what we came up with.” Ryan led me to the other end of the deck and I gasped when I saw the small cake, sculpted and decorated to look like a tower of tangerines. “I can’t believe you did this,” I cried, leaning in close to see the dimpled skin, the woody stems, the green leaves. “This is art. I can’t eat this!”

Ryan ducked his head to mine, saying, “You have a little something here.” He kissed the corner of my mouth, and not for the first time today I wondered what happened next. I knew what I wanted but I didn’t know how to get from here to there. Even with all the sexual tension we’d built up over the past week, I couldn’t figure out how we’d take the next step. Maybe we needed to fool around under a blanket again.

“I could spend all night here,” he whispered, kissing down my neck and across the crook of my shoulder. He squeezed my hip, jerking me closer to him. “All night.” So, maybe I didn’t have to overthink it.

“Is this what it feels like to watch your teenage daughter go out on her first date?” I asked. “I don’t know,” he replied. “But I don’t think we need to wait up for her.” I laced my fingers with his and held up our joined hands though I remembered at the last second we hadn’t exchanged rings. We didn’t have anything to prove what we’d promised tonight. “Then what should we do?” He stared at me, a slow, devastating smile pulling at his lips. “Do you trust me?” I grinned at him. “You know I do.”

When she snapped a selfie, the bright lights of the ballpark shining down on us while the crowd cheered, I stole it to post on my social platforms. We flooded the streets along with the rest of Boston after the game, and every time I looked at her I knew I’d never before felt this alive. I couldn’t keep my hands away from those silky ribbons at her shoulders. All I could think of was untying them and watching the dress hit the floor.

I liked that she was mine to show off tonight. I wanted the whole city to see her—and to know that she belonged to me.

We wandered through the bars near Lansdowne and Boston University like it didn’t matter who knew us, drinking and dancing and singing along with every song until they turned off the lights. We ended up in the back of a car around two in the morning. We stared at each other with drowsy eyes and warm smiles lit by the golden glow of streetlights, and I knew I’d be all right if this was how our wedding night ended. Even if I wanted more—so much more—I had everything I needed. Then the driver turned under an overpass and for a singular moment, everything went dark. I didn’t know who made the first move. I didn’t care. We found each other in the darkness and we moved together like we’d been doing this forever. Like we were made for this. She was beside me, then in my lap, then straddling me, her knees pressing into my hips and her skirt floating around us like a fog. My hands were under Emme’s dress and her lips were everywhere and there was nothing else in my head—not a single fucking thing—other than getting her home.

We didn’t say a word—or come up for air—once we were in the elevator. I kissed her as I untied the ribbons at her shoulders, and though the dress didn’t fall off, it gave me entirely new regions of skin to taste. I boosted her up against the wall, rocked hard into the heat between her thighs, and scraped my teeth over her bottom lip. She purred into my mouth and my brain shorted out.

I didn’t put her down when we reached my floor and she made no attempt to unwind her legs from around my waist which was everything I needed to know.

Emme pulled my shirt up and off one arm as I carried her to the bedroom, our lips still locked and her tiny sounds still driving me wild. I had one hand down the back of her underwear and the other frantically searching for a zipper, and though I wanted her naked for this, I could still get the job done with her skirt shoved up around her waist. At least for the first time.

I reached for my button-fly but Emme was already there, her tongue snared between her teeth as she pulled my jeans open. Before I could say a word, before I could even breathe, she shoved my clothes down, wrapped a hand around my shaft, and took me into the unbelievable heaven of her mouth. My heart stopped for a whole minute, but when it started up again, every muscle in my body pulled painfully tight. Without thinking, I surged all the way to the back of her throat and earned myself a sudden slap on the ass as she gagged.

I let my hand run down her neck and chest, and slipped my fingers under the top of her dress. I traced the luscious round of her breast until I found a perfectly pebbled nipple waiting for me and I knew I wouldn’t know peace until I’d felt it against my tongue. “Off,” I barked, tugging at the front of her dress. She looked up at me then, her eyes bright and her mouth stretched wide to take my cock, and I realized I was about thirty seconds from coming all over her face. Call me old-fashioned but that was not how I wanted to start off my wedding night.