“What are you?”
Wilder slammed his hands into Solo’s chest, sending him back a step, boots skidding on the gravel.
“You’re the ones who pushed me out ofyourlives, and now you want to involve yourself?”
“Wilder,” Emmett breathed, stopping a few feet away, wincing when Solo’s dark brown eyes snapped onto him, understanding dawning on his face.
“You have no fucking right to interfere in my life,” Wilder snapped at Solo, the two of them staring hard at each other for a moment before Solo shook his head.
“What the fuck are you doing, Wilder?” Solo asked. “You don’t do relationships. Emmett very clearly does. You think it’s fair to string him along? I don’t. That’s why I told him to be careful, because I don’t want to see either of you hurt.”
The plea in Solo’s voice and the devastated look on his face made Emmett believe him, and from the way Wilder stilled, looking like he’d stopped breathing, he believed him, too.
“You don’t want to see mehurt,” Wilder said, his voice low but tinged with anger. “Maybe you should’ve thought about that sooner.”
“I did think about that. It was all I thought about for so damned long that I almost missed out on the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Solo said, the look in his eyes begging Wilder to understand.
He didn’t think Wilderwantedto understand. Not in this moment. Maybe not ever. The painful clench in his chest brought tears to his eyes. He hated seeing how much this hurt Wilder. He wished he could take that pain away. Wished Wilder would let him carry some of that weight.
Wilder balled his hands into fists, the anger in his expression taking Emmett’s breath away.
“Go on,” Solo yelled, arms thrown wide. “I’m not gonna stop you.”
Wilder looked like he was seriously considering it, but instead of slamming a fist into Solo’s face, he turned on his heels and took off toward the row of motorcycles. Emmett watched with his heart in his throat as Wilder threw a leg over the seat of his bike and took off down the road, gravel spraying wide and far.
A groan had him snapping his gaze onto Solo, watching him run his hands down his face before threading his fingers behind his neck, the worry on Solo’s face just as clear as the worry churning in his own gut.
An arm wrapped around Emmett’s shoulders, and as Emma leaned into him, he put his arm around her waist, closing his eyes and soaking up her warmth.
“Men,” Emma muttered.
“My brother pissing you off?”
Emma’s huff wasn’t the least bit reassuring.
“When isn’t he?” She sighed, then nudged Emmett’s shoulder with hers, a grin spreading on her face. “Don’t worry. The makeup sex is worth it.”
“The what now?”
Emmett looked over his shoulder and found Miles watching them with confusion in his amber eyes, Kaz walking past him toward Solo. He felt Emma tense and couldn’t help the way his own shoulders shot up.
“What’s going on?”
Emma cleared her throat, then looked away from Miles, her hands tapping the sides of her thighs as if she was considering what to say.
“I messed up,” he whispered before Emma could speak.
Miles’s eyes softened as he stepped closer. “You alright?”
He shook his head, hands shaking as he pulled away from Emma and turned to face Miles. Why was this so hard? What was it about admitting that he’d let Heath tear him down that always felt worse than anything Heath had done to him?
He squeezed his eyes closed, trying to gather the courage to tell Miles the truth.
“Em? You’re scaring me,” Miles said, voice closer now and filled with worry.
He slowly opened his eyes, swallowing hard as he met Miles’s gaze.
“Heath… He uh…”
