10 - Nate.

I wake up with a smile on my face for the first time in years. I’m smiling because I know that when I open my eyes and glance over to the normally vacant side of my bed, I’m going to see the most beautiful girl in the world lying naked next to me. But instead of doing that right away, I wait. I deny myself the immediate pleasure and instead, I keep my eyes closed and replay the incredible events of last night.

I think about our first kiss and how incredible it was. I remember how it felt when I first reached out and touched her there on the couch at her parents’ house after wanting to for so long. I raise my lip up to my nose and inhale the scent of her pussy from when I had my face buried between her legs last night and I had my tongue pressed against her clit, lapping away like a hungry dog, looking up at those two mounds rising up from her chest as her body shook and her orgasm took her.

Christ, what a fucking moment. I could do that to her for hours. As a matter of fact, I could wake her up with another session of that right now…

I open my eyes and look over to see Anastasia sound asleep next to me, side-sleeping, her hair a cute mess all over the pillow, half obscuring her gorgeous face. Her mouth is partially open, and I have to keep myself from laughing. God, she looks absolutely adorable. The comforter is pulled back slightly, showing both of her perfect breasts, and I instantly feel myself getting hard. But just as I’m about to pull back the blanket to give her the best wake-up call of her life, I hear something I really don’t want to hear; the sound of someone pulling up outside. And I know by the sound of the car and by the hour it is that it can be only one person.

Emerson.

“Shit,” I curse under my breath as I quickly, but carefully, slide out of bed and throw on some clothes. I make my way downstairs as fast as possible, hoping to meet the little scoundrel outside before he can use his key to get into the house, but by the time I reach the door, he’s already coming in.

“Oh hey, Pops,” Emerson says in that obnoxious tone he always has when he’s working himself up for something. By the looks of him, I’d say he’s been up all night partying.

“Emerson.”

“Whatcha doin’?” he asks, stepping past me to the fridge.

“This isn’t the best time,” I reply. Christ, if Anastasia wakes up and comes downstairs…

“No? Well, I was just wondering,” he muses, taking out a Mandarin seltzer and cracking it open. “Why I haven’t received a check for my new car yet.”

I try not to laugh. Of course that’s what he’s here about.

“Your grandfather didn’t tell you he and I had a conversation about that?”

“He did.” He nods. “And he said you had a problem with sending me a check for the car.”

“Not quite.” I shake my head. “I told him that a college student doesn’t need a Porsche. That’s what I told him.”

Emerson grins like the spoiled little boy he is and takes a swig of his seltzer. “Well, obviously he disagrees.”

“Yeah, well it doesn’t matter, does it? I’m the one writing the check.”

Emerson’s eyes narrow. He’s so used to getting his way and using his grandfather, my father to fight his battles for him, but after knowing how he treated Anastasia last night, I’m through. There was a time where I may have given in to this just to not have to deal with my father again, but that time is over. If I have to deal with an angry phone call from Father or a letter from his lawyers, so be it.

“What are you saying?” Emerson asks.

“What I’m saying,” I reply, glancing out the window at Emerson’s Audi, “is that when I was your age, I was driving a fifteen-year-old Volvo with a rear window that had to be duct taped to the roof to stay up. I think your Audi is just fine. You don’t need a Porsche. Now why don’t you head back to school and hit the books? I’ve got work to do.”

When Nicole passed away, and I became Emerson’s guardian, he was just finishing kindergarten, and he wasn’t the cocky, spoiled little prick he is now. I thought we’d be able to get along back then, and we did for a while, but now – especially considering how my father had basically taken to coddling him even when he was wrong just because Emerson was his only grandchild – I know there’s no hope. So when I see the look of utter disappointment and anger on his face, I have to keep myself from grinning right back at him.

Yeah, maybe don’t treat girls like disposable pieces of meat, you jackass.

“Well, we’ll see what Grandpa has to say about this!” Emerson replies as he slams the seltzer down on the counter and stomps out of the house, looking less like an intimidating lacrosse player and more like a young boy, unhappy that things didn’t just go his way.

The door slams, and I watch out the window as Emerson slides into his Audi, texts someone (probably Father), and then peels out of the driveway.