The Eccedentesiast

Chapter Twenty-seven

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Chapter Twenty-seven
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Last night, Emma couldn't sleep, the mental images she kept wouldn't slide out. She kept thinking about him. She then thought of him more clearly. She loved his beard and mustache—he kept it neatly trimmed.

She's seen his big arms, veins that trailed up. He had veins on his upper arms and muscles that fit a man. Emma loved the way his chest hair was naturally there, how it looked to be hairy, but not hairy where he looked like he needed help. It was a kind of hairy chest that was just fucking attractive. Emma knew she was in trouble. Deep, deep trouble.

And then it all takes her to the now, she's sitting down; on a stool, eye fucking his muscular back. She unintentionally smiled to herself as she watched his muscles ripple under his shirt, practically begging her to rip the whole button-up shirt off so she can lick up his chest and kiss every inch of his body.

"Fuck," she whispered and rested her chin in her hand with her left elbow perched up on the counter.

Connor noticed her trance and waved a hand in front of her face. She quickly came back to reality and looked around.

"Sorry," she said. "I'm just thinking about, uh, tomorrow."

Connor leaned his elbow on the counter. "What happens tomorrow?" He raised an eyebrow.

Emma rubbed her temple with a little shrug from her right shoulder. "N-Nothing."

"Then?"

Emma puffed out a breath and filled up her cheeks before letting the air go. "I'm just tired."

Connor hummed as he stood up straight and pointed at her breakfast that was still untouched. "You're gonna eat that?" he asked.

Emma nodded. "Uh-huh."

𖨆

Emma was not okay. It's been two weeks, which meant it's the wedding today. Isabella and Andy had to spend their night in separate places.

Emma, Cristina, Isabella, Debra, and Abrielle were rushing around the hotel room. A lot of people did fly to England for the wedding. Emma loved it here, she didn't know what to expect but she thinks it's better than what she pretty much expected.

"Abrielle, sweetheart, don't make me look like that boy that wore too much white powder." Isabella looked up at Abrielle, holding her wrist so she was preventing her from dabbing more powder on her face.

Cristina giggled. "Flashback marry."

Emma started laughing and then held up her arm, motioning for Cristina to slap her hand.

Abrielle sighed and put down the stuff in her hands. "Alright. All that's left is putting on your dress. Come on."

Isabella followed her and Debra to the bathroom where the dress was hung up with a hanger.

Emma stood up and walked over to the full-body mirror that was against the wall. She checked out the dress she had on; pink and soft. Her mom picked it out for her a week ago when they went shopping with Isabella for a wedding dress.

Emma sighed and patted the chest area where she felt loose fabric. "Ugh," she groaned. "My flat chest is a nightmare. I look like a man in a dress."

Cristina laughed and walked behind her to look at her in the mirror. "You're not wrong."

Emma dropped her hands to her sides and glared at Cristina through their reflections. "Thanks."