What the fuck am I doing.
“Emmett, c’mon!”
I jump and mutter a ‘yeah, coming!’ as I take off after him.
By the time we make it to the checkout, the condoms have made their way back into the basket along with the lube and abox with something like a lightbulb printed on it. I don’t know what it is, and I sure as shit don’t want it next to the peanut butter the cashier scans and sends on its way down the track.
Squeezing past Hatley, I accidentally brush over his ass again because there’s just not enough room in this fucking place and end up in flames at the bagging section. I’m throwing shit in bags, not paying any attention to anything but my self-loathing, until Hatley clears his throat.
I’m surprised he didn’t make a joke already. This must be it.
Instead, when I glance up, he fuckingsmiles. Like he knows I was expecting him to out me in front of the entire store but doesn’t. I don’t know why that makes my stomach flip in appreciation and my eyes burn a little.
Trust me, yeah?I hear him say.We’re friends now.
I bite my lip to keep it from trembling and shove the last few items in the bags.
I’ve never … had someone I trusted to be my friend before.
I probably shouldn’t. There’s got to be a reason why not to. I mean, I’m nineteen and Hatley’s my first real friend since kindergarten?
But as we load the bags into the back of the truck and Hatley drives us back to their place, I can’t think of a single one.
Chapter 48
Tristen
There’s drool on mychin when I wake up the second time, the nosepiece of my glasses jamming into the bridge and making my swollen eye water.
I probably should have iced that.
Swiping the back of my hand below my lip, I feel the bed beside me.
Cold.
Empty.
My heart sinks a little despite the clear sunlight streaming into the room and a glance at the clock lit up on my phone screen tells me it’s only been another hour since I woke up last. I was the only one in bed then, too, my shorts halfway up my ass and my contacts searing my retinas. It took everything in me to pluck them out and replace them with my glasses, find a shirt, and seat myself in bed.
I tried to wait up.
I’d hoped that Em would hear me and come lay down. I know that he didn’t sleep well at all, I could see it in the way his eyesdrooped when we got home. Not that the firehouse is the best place to sleep, even when youareused to the ambiance.
But I can tell that he never came back here, and that has me biting my lip with worry.
It takes what feels like a full minute to lift my head the rest of the way up, my mostly seated position leaving meaching. Stiff. Nearly fucking immobile.
“Jesus, fuck,” I mutter and force a stretch from one side to the other, the searing pain in my ribs making me gasp.
My fucking knee pops when I straighten it.
This is what I get for fighting that asshole.
Footsteps echo through the open door, and I clutch my side when the sound sparks hope inside my chest.
Is it Emmett?
God, I would kill just to see his smile right now. His light hair and those fucking eyes hidden behind it.
