Blowing out a long breath, I ready myself for rejection. The rejection he assured me would never come.
With his free hand, Emmett pulls off his glasses, pinching the frames between his thumb and forefinger.
I remember when he used to wear contact lenses more, although I prefer him in glasses. They suit his chiseled face so well.
“I’ve never been a guy who tells lies. In fact, I’ve always prided myself on giving the truth.”
I roll my tongue along the roof of my mouth, the sensitive feeling offering a momentary break from anxiety over what he’s going to say.
“And because you are the absolute last person I would ever want to lie to, I’ll be honest and address the elephant in the room.”
He breaks off, chest moving rapidly beneath the thin fabric of his black shirt.
“In the park last week, I told you that we’ve always had an affinity. Our jokes, banter, the way you’d kick my ass at Monopoly each year and never let me forget it.”
Those memories don’t make me smile like they’ve always done. This time, they tighten my chest.
“I let you believe that nothing had changed for me now that you’re back in Brooklyn. Truthfully, when I showed up with your twenty-first birthday gift, I expected to find an older version of the young woman I’d always gotten along with.”
My throat is thick, voice croaky when I ask, “And what is it you found instead?”
He runs a rough palm across his mouth, gaze dropping down the length of my body for the briefest second.
“I found a woman who took my goddamn breath away. When she walked into my best friend’s living room, I had to fight to keep my jaw closed and eyes where they belonged.” He shakes his head, dropping it between his shoulders.
I take a step closer, his compliments spurring me on. I want to hear more of them.
Specifically from him.
“You’re stunning, Billie. Like, really fucking stunning.” He blows out a humorless laugh, probably in response to his admission.
I feel the same way. This whole conversation is madness. Dangerous. Stupid.
“If circumstances were different, I’d …” He trails off, and I want to scream into my couch cushions.
“You’d what?” I press.
He replaces his glasses and reaches up, resting both palms on top of his baseball cap, one over the other. The motion showcases the strong muscles in his biceps and prominent veins in his forearms.
I fight to keep my eyes on his face, just like the battle he previously described.
“Tell me what you’d do. You said that you would never lie to me.”
He shakes his head, and my heart drops an inch.
“Keeping some thoughts to myself doesn’t mean I’m lying to you, Billie. It means I’m using my fucking brain for once and not digging myself into an early grave when it comes to your dad.”
I don’t respond because what can I say? My dad would absolutely murder him if he touched me. Especially after everything that went down with Tucker.
He squeezes his eyes shut. “My ex-wife is your mom’s best friend. I’m fourteen years older than you, and all I can think about is …”
“What?”
His eyes snap open, gray irises way darker than I’ve seen them before.
“I can’t allow myself to go there with you. Not even in my own mind.”
I know it’s a bad idea to reach up and place a palm on his chest. Still, that doesn’t stop me.
