“Say something,” I plead.
Pained eyes drop to our joined hands. “This is all going to end in tears. This is all a rebound for him, and you and Blake will wind up as collateral damage.”
“I already am in tears,” I point out, Emmett squeezing my hand tighter.
Dad just shakes his head at me. “Then I don’t know what to say to you, Bill. There’s only so much a father can do to protect his daughter from making the biggest mistake of her life.”
CHAPTER FORTY
BILLIE
With my hand still in his, Emmett leads me down the driveway and then across the road to where his Aston is parked by the curb.
He opens the passenger door for me, and I climb in before he rounds the hood and slides into the driver’s seat. Neither of us says a word when he cranks the engine and pulls into the road.
For a few minutes, we drive in silence, me occasionally glancing over to observe Emmett’s bruised face.
Despite his injuries and current circumstances, I can’t help but appreciate how handsome he is. Even when his mind is drowning in turmoil, there’s an air of composure to this man, which is unique, classy, self-assured yet humble in just the right balance. He wasn’t driving away without me sitting next to him, and goddamn if that wasn’t the sexiest thing ever.
Pulling up along another curb a few streets away from my parents’ place, Emmett slides his chair back. He adjusts his glasses and massages the bridge of his nose, one of the only places Dad didn’t land a punch.
There’s so much to say, but absolutely nothing to say, all atthe same time, and the longer we both remain silent, the harder it feels to be the one to speak first.
Emmett just told his closest friend that, if pressed, he’d choose his daughter above him. I haven’t had many close friends in my life or at least friendships that have stood the test of time, but that doesn’t mean I can’t understand how deep that must have cut him, even if I’m the one he’s choosing.
Hands back on the steering wheel, Emmett turns to look at me, eyes full of apology, fingers twitching, like he’s desperate to pull me into his arms.
“You should’ve told me about the money and where it was coming from.” I finally find my voice. “I had a right to know about that.”
He nods, never taking his eyes off me. “Yeah, I should’ve. I guess I didn’t because you’d never have accepted it if you had known the truth. Just like Scott wouldn’t have either if he had known about everything going on between us.”
I want to argue back even though I know that he’s right. There’s no way I would’ve knowingly spent Emmett’s cash. I’d have lived in my childhood bedroom and found any type of job before I entertained the idea.
“And the longer things went on,” he adds, “the harder it got to tell you or Scott and Freya. If you’d have asked me outright how your dad was affording all this, then I wouldn’t have lied to you, but looking like the hero sweeping in to save you and Blake was not why I offered to help. I did it because I’d always cared about you, even if romantic feelings were never involved until much later down the line.”
White blossoms fall from the trees that line the road, swirling around Emmett’s car. With the way it cascades gently to the ground, you could easily mistake it for snow. Winter feels like the more appropriate season right now, a better reflection of our relationship.
Closing his eyes slowly, Emmett scrubs a hand across his jaw.
“You need an antiseptic wipe for the cut on your cheek. Thepacket I have in my purse would be really handy if it wasn’t sitting on top of my duvet.”
A small chuckle vibrates in his chest as Emmett’s hand creeps across the center section, his little finger brushing slowly against mine.
Delicious shimmers break out in response to his touch.
“I need to know that you don’t believe the crap Maria fed you and Scott.”
We haven’t had a chance to talk about what went down in Rise Up, partly because I haven’t answered his calls.
Lips rolling together, I edge my hand closer to his. “I know you well enough to be sure that you aren’t the type of person to use me because you’re lonely and you need to get over your cheating ex-wife.”
He looks pained and relieved.
“What exactly did she say to you at breakfast, Billie?”
My brain struggles to recall a conversation that took place only hours ago. Mainly because I want to forget that it ever happened. “I don’t want to talk about it because it doesn’t mean anything.”
He shakes his head, hand moving to rest on my cheek, and his thumb strokes small circles beneath my left eye. “Whenever someone tries to hurt my girl, every small detail matters to me. Protecting you and Blake is my number one priority.”
