“Billie?” Emmett’s gruff voice is unmistakable, although it doesn’t stop me from working.
Not until I feel the rough edges of his palm as it wraps around my upper arm, asking me to stop what I’m doing.
“What’s going on, Billie?”
At the question, I spin around to face him, a fork in one hand and a ladle in the other.
He rolls his lips together, eyes dropping to my hands. “You aren’t planning to attack me with those, are you?”
“I’m not sure how much damage can be inflicted with a ladle.”
Emmett cocks his head to one side, studying my expression for clues. “I guess that depends on how mad your attacker is. Personally, I know this fiery redhead who very much lives up to her reputation. If she isn’t giving me back talk, she’s trying to bruise my ego over our age gap.”
Despite my shitty mood, I can’t help but smile.
He reaches out and takes the ladle and fork from my hands, placing them into the dishwasher. “What’s going on, Billie?” He repeats his previous question.
Since the moment our eyes connected, he hasn’t taken his off mine, and I feel his weighted gaze all the way into my toes.
“That’s not a question I can answer.”
There’s barely any space between us, but Emmett’s tall frame still manages to swallow the remainder. He gazes down at my left wrist; the dainty rose gold bracelet featuring a “B” he gifted me after Blake’s birth rests against my skin. I love it so much, and I told him that straight after I opened it.
“And why is that?”
The half glass of wine I had earlier burns into my cheeks, or maybe it’s down to his proximity. Either way, I know I’m revealing how much this man affects me.
In a cream silk cami and black faux leather pants that accentuate my curvy figure, I know I look good tonight, and I’m not ashamed to admit that I went the extra mile, aware that Emmett was going to show up. I thought he’d back out after everything that went on, but I should’ve known better than to assume he’d let his friends down.
And that’s what he is—a friend to my parents.
Pulling a breath into my lungs, I let my gaze drop to what he’s wearing—a white dress shirt that’s open at the collar, revealing a glimpse of chest hair, along with a peek at his toned body, one I had the pleasure of touching not all that long ago. Emmett has this way of carrying off casual so effortlessly—sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a TAG Heuer watch decorating a muscular wrist.
As my mouth waters, I swallow thickly, determined to get ahold of myself.
“Because you already made it clear that we can never speak of us again.”
He wets his lips, but it isn’t because he wants to kiss me, evenif I hope that the temptation has crossed his mind. “I thought we agreed that was the right thing to do?”
He’s right; we did. Not that it helps to quell the need.
“Everything just feels awkward, is all.” I lean forward and grab a kitchen towel from the counter behind him, ready to dry off the dishes Mom already cleaned.
Frustrated, Emmett practically snatches it from my hands, flipping it over his left shoulder.
“Talk to me, Billie. I don’t want to lose you from my life because things got a little weird. That’s the last thing I want.”
On a sharp breath, I shake my head slowly. “I’d say that horse has already bolted, wouldn’t you?”
Emmett moves even closer. If there wasn’t a foot’s height difference between us, we’d be nose to nose. Instead, he towers over me, head bowed and eyes burning with a need I can’t decipher.
I hope it’s a need for me, but I suspect he’s after answers.
“If you’re unhappy, then you need to tell me. I never want you to be unhappy and especially not because of something I’ve said or done.”
I look off to the side, rain beating against the kitchen windows. It’s pointless, going over old ground. We’ve already set the boundaries, and I’m not about to be reckless and test his willpower, even if my body screams to do just that.
“There are a lot of things in my life that aren’t ideal at the moment. Some of them I can control, and others I can’t. I’m not unhappy, Emmett, but I do need to focus on what’s going to serve me.”
