As I nuzzle into the warmth of his palm, Emmett leans across and sets a gentle kiss against my chin.
When he pulls back, our noses are touching, his eyes darting between mine.
“Maria insinuated what my dad warned a few minutes ago—that I’m a rebound and an easy target for an older guy who’s earned my trust over time.”
“You aren’t a rebound,” he breathes slowly. “You’re the real deal for me.”
When he goes to kiss my lips, I let him take it deeper, tongues gently massaging together.
Emmett releases a small whimper, fingertips dipping beneath my red sweater and skating across the waistband of my leggings.
“I’m in love with you, with Blake, with a future I know we can have together.”
“But what if having that future means that others can’t be a part of it?” My statement breaks our kiss, and Emmett studies me intently.
A few months ago, those words wouldn’t have entered my brain, never mind left my mouth. But today, I’m not the same person I was when I sat in the library with Clara and stressed over grades, which would prove to be insignificant when I ultimately dropped out of college.
Blake’s arrival has changed so much about me, and while I’m still Billie Quinn, the thought of my daughter living a life without her grandparents in it doesn’t feel like a happy future I can consciously choose. It’s possible that my parents might come around to the idea of Emmett being my man, but I’m not being asked to make the same choice as him. I’m not choosing the person I love over a close friend. In this moment, I’d be choosing my romantic heart over family, and something about that notion doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. If Emmett were Blake’s daddy, then maybe this would be different. All I know is that I vowed never to put myself above my daughter’s needs when it came to Tucker, and I can’t, in good conscience, do it now. Just because the man sitting in front of me is everything I could ever want and more.
“What are you trying to say to me, Bill?”
The heartbreak in Emmett’s voice sends tears rolling down my cheeks.
Frantically, he kisses each one away, holding my face in his palms, like he so often does when he knows that I need the comfort of his embrace.
I wish that his callused palms were all I needed right now.
I wish that the path to our love were simple and not a replica of our hike in the Catskills.
I wish that Emmett Richards were the exact same man, but not associated with my family.
I wish that my dad could see what this was doing to us both.
I shake my head, a blizzard of conflicting thoughts and desires making it impossible to find the right response.
A low sob leaves Emmett’s chest. “Are you breaking up with me, Mama?”
Through blurry vision, I analyze the face of pure love. The kind every girl dreams about seeing when she looks at her man. One I mistakenly saw in Tucker’s.
“I’m not ending it, Em,” I whisper, and he kisses me softly, resting his forehead against mine.
“Then what do you need from me? Anything, everything, the whole fucking universe. Tell me, and it’s yours and Blake’s.”
I heave a shuddering breath. “Distance.”
A word we’ve repeatedly fought against resurfaces between us, and I hate that it does. I detest myself for saying it even if I know that it’s the only feasible way forward. Breaking up with Emmett is too painful to consider, but we both need time to let the dust of today settle into tomorrow.
He hates the idea as much as me—I can see it in the lines etched into his forehead.
“How much and for how long?”
That’s something I can’t fully quantify.
“I don’t know. A week maybe? I don’t know at this point.”
“Okay,” he replies, voice gravelly. “But here’s the deal. After a week, I get to take you out somewhere. You and Blake. We’ll have some fun, and if you want to talk more, then we can.”
I can’t help a cocky smile from forming. “Has anyone ever called you bossy?”
