Eli
Walking into my parents’apartment, I toss my workout bag down in the foyer and make my way into the kitchen. I’m starving and something smells good. Strange, because Dad doesn’t cook. Turning the corner from the hallway into the living room that’s open to the kitchen, I halt in my tracks. “Emma?”
I think I’m seeing things because how could she be here? In New York.
“Surprise?” she says with a cautious expression. Hell, she even said it like a question.
“What are you doing here?” I know I don’t sound excited to see her. I am. Well, part of me is excited to see her. The other part is wary. Wary because the girl I thought she was––was exactly the girl my dad said she was.
“…think of the money.”
That statement right there gave me pause. How well did I really know Emma? I certainly got to know her sister. Maybe Amber and Emma are more alike than she leads on?
Looking at her now, though, all I see is the sweet girl I fell in love with, not the mercenary I’ve conjured up in my head. Or did I conjure it?
“Your mom thought a visit would cheer you up.”
She was wrong about that. All this visit is doing is making everything hurt more. “I was okay.”
“Right.” I catch something in Emma’s eyes that makes me feel guilty. They’re glossy like she’s about to cry. I should go to her.
I can’t.
“Eli?” I turn to see my mom in the kitchen. “Emma and I made your favorite. Lasagna.”
Shit. That’s why it smells so damn good in here. “Great.” I turn and step over to the expansive kitchen. My dad bought this place for a song, and Mom redesigned the interior. It’s beautiful. It overlooks Central Park so it’s an awesome location. “I’m starving.”
“Your father will be here soon so go shower. By the time you’re out, dinner will be ready.”
“Great.”
Why do I keep saying that word? Nothing is great.
