Just Convenience

Chapter 8

Peyton's POV: 

I don't know what had gotten into me over the past few days. It started when I kissed Emma's neck recklessly. There hadn't been a thought behind doing it other than wanting to - and the anger I felt at myself for allowing my emotions to get the better of me filled my every thought. However, it didn't stop me from calling her yesterday or touching her more than I should today. 

She didn't like me; it was evident by how she spoke to me on the phone yesterday; her telling my mom, 'Your son is amazing,' was just acting. Really good fucking acting. Once again, I didn't know why it bothered me so much. This was a fake relationship, which we both benefited from. And yet, I couldn't stop thinking about her, the way her skin felt under my fingers, and the want to taste her neck again. 

"So Emma," My mother started, breaking me from my thoughts, "How old are you?" I groaned inwardly. I should have prepped Emma for this, but she smiled politely before answering. 

"I'm 23," she took a sip of the wine I had ordered for her and set the glass back down on the table. 

"Ah, you are very young then." 

"Mother," I warned, giving her a look. 

Emma, ignoring my tone, just smiled wider, "It's alright dear," I froze, not hearing any of the conversation after. She called me by a pet name. We hadn't talked about using pet names, and I wasn't sure how to feel about it. I shoved down my emotions; this wasn't the time to think about that, and returned to the conversation. 

"Where did you graduate from?" my mother asked, onto another question already; apparently, whatever answer Emma gave her for the last question impressed her enough to keep asking questions. If she wasn't impressed with someone, she basically ignored them, like how she was basically ignoring Beth. 

"Augsburg University with a major in Graphic Design," she answered. All of this I knew from her resume, but it was still intriguing to hear her talk about it, "Right after graduation, I got a job at Thatcher and Co. that's where Peyton and I met." 

"Ahh, you guessed my next question," my mom said, smiling. "Peyton," she turned her attention to me, "You've chosen a very wonderful girl," and with that, the conversation moved on to different topics. 

By the end of the night, Emma had completely won over my mother, and Beth had sulked in her chair. I really didn't know why Holter stayed with a girl like that; sure, it got Mom off his back, but it was really pathetic. Mom ended up paying for us all, and we parted ways after promising to get together again soon. 

 Standing alone as we waited for the valet to get my car, I looked down at Emma, who was gazing up at the sky, a content look on her face. "Thank you," I told her softly, and she looked over at me. 

"Of course, we had an agreement after all," her tone wasn't quite cold, but it had a shortness to it that made me want to frown. 

"I'm sorry my mom asked so many questions," I didn't know why I was trying so hard to keep a conversation alive; it was clear that she didn't want to talk to me. 

"It's alright, I sort of expected it," with that, she stuck a strand of hair into her mouth and sucked on it. Every nerve in my body grated at the urge to take the strand out of her mouth, and the strength it took me not to was almost more than I could bear. 

The valet brought the car, and I opened the door for Emma. She slid in and sat staring straight ahead as I closed the door and walked around the car to get into the driver's seat. 

Fifteen minutes passed in complete silence, and I couldn't handle it any longer, "Did I do something wrong?"  

"No," she answered, not looking at me still. Fine. Taunt me with that fucking blue dress, with an easy smile all night, with the soft touches of her hand as we pretended to like each other, with that fucking red hair that she sticks in her fucking mouth that just begged me to remove it and tuck it behind her ear. But fine. Fine. Fine. Fine.