“And found plenty of candidates,” she muttered. Tyler nodded slowly, and Emma stepped up to the landing. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t polite.”
Emma obviously wasn’t the first to point out his blasé attitude toward dating. It was typically easy to brush the judgement off or pretend to wear his reputation like a badge of honour, which it wasn’t. It was a survival skill. A crutch. One he didn’t think he was capable of walking without. This time, her comment dug under his skin.
Tyler’s jaw tensed. “It’s fine, I shouldn’t have—”
“I didn’t say I wouldn’t do it, I just—” Emma shook her head. “I’ll go, but no more kissing.” Her lip twitched, and she wouldn’t meet his eyes.
“Got it.”Had the kiss been that bad?He’d never had complaints before.
Emma finally looked up, her brow furrowed. “Can I ask, why me? I’m sure there’s a line a kilometre long of girls who’d love to be your plus one. Twice in six weeks.”
Tyler adjusted the strap on his shoulder. He’d had dinner with his father every few weeks since moving here, and never had he thought to bring someone along.Why her?“Because you’re exactly the type of girl my dad wouldn’t expect me to be with.”
* * *
Emma’s cheeks burned as she walked back to the car. She’d barely slept the night before and wasn’t in a place to be philosophical about what Tyler had just said.Exactly the kind of girl my dad wouldn’t expect me to be with.Because she was wearing yoga sweats and a puffy coat? Because she ate honey crullers for dinner?
Lindsey stared at her as she sat in the passenger seat. “I thought you were just dropping off his stuff.”
“I was.” Emma exhaled and unzipped her coat.
“That was quite the extended conversation on the porch. And you’re right, his face looks like he tried to kiss a running blender.”
“If it had a pulse, I’m sure he would’ve,” Emma muttered.
Lindsey chortled and pulled away from the curb. “You like him, don’t you?”
Emma stared at her. “No, I feel bad that my brother made him look like Picasso’s rough draft.” Her heartbeat pulsed in her fingertips.
“It’s not your fault, Emma. You had nothing to do with it.”
They drove in silence until Lindsey turned off Shaganappi and into the neighbourhood. Emma swallowed the twinge of guilt that bubbled up from her gut. She’d asked Lindsey to drive her but hadn’t admitted the full details of the fight the night before. Telling her friends that she’d asked Tyler to pretend they were together to annoy her brother felt like peeling a sunburn that was still tender and raw.
“Thanks for the ride.”
Lindsey put the car in park. “Do you want company today?”
Emma yawned. “No, I didn’t sleep well. I’m going to crash.” She waved and got out of the car, then strode through the front doors she’d walked through with Tyler the night before. His words tumbled around like her mind was trying to polish them and smooth their edges.
She knew what a guy like Tyler wanted. Those girls who wore toques with puff balls on top, their hair glossy and highlighted, their eyelashes curled so high they brushed their eyebrows. That’s who he went home with. She was the organic, locally grown apple to their cinnamon apple pie with streusel topping.
Nobody craved the raw ingredients. Nobody fantasized about the apple.
Which was why she kept allowing herself to be cooked and mashed and mixed until she barely recognized herself, hoping that in the end, someone would see her as the main event. But she was exactly the kind of girl he couldn’t see himself with. And yet she couldn’t stop wanting to be kissed like that. She couldn’t stop wanting to bewantedlike that.
Emma pulled off her boots, hung her coat on the hooks, and spread herself on the couch like the bland applesauce she was, then tugged a blanket over her shoulders and fell asleep.
ChapterTen
Emma stoodin front of the bedroom mirror, biting her lip as she examined her reflection. Her chestnut hair cascaded down her back in waves, and the loose button-up with the top buttons undone made her look professional . . . but kind of sexy.
For a hot second, she’d been tempted to transform herself into exactly the kind of girl Tyler would date, though she had none of the needed supplies, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. This wasn’t about her. Tyler needed to make his point just like she’d needed to the other night, and since he was the one who would take the brunt of the consequences, she could swallow her pride for a few hours and be herself—with a little extra cleavage.
Every moment with him over the past few days played on repeat like the bad memes Lindsey refused to stop sending. His hand on her waist. His lips over hers. His smile peeking out under the bag of frozen corn. His voice asking her for a do-over.
This was her problem. She knew exactly who he was. She knew what she wanted, and yet she was still a stupid moth flying straight for the flame that would leave her empty and burned to a crisp.
Her phone buzzed on the bathroom counter, and she jumped. Lindsey’s face stretched across her screen, her red lips puckered into a juicy kiss.
