I gnaw the inside of my lip. “You gonna be okay?”
There’s a long,long, moment where he just … shoves more shit in the bag. Sniffles. Finally whispers a ‘yeah’ that’s so unconvincing, it makes my chest ache.
“I know you have to go.”
My jaw ticks, the radio crackling behind me. “Not if you tell me you need me.”
He pauses at that, his face hidden by his hair, and stares at some spot on the wall.
When he finally looks at me, there’s tears building in his eyes.
“I’m fine.”
“Don’t.” I step closer. Take the bag from his grip. “Don’t lie to me.”
A single tear slides down his cheek and I hate it. Ihate itthat he’s crying again. That he’s hurting again. That he’s been put in this kind of position.
“I’m okay,” he whispers. “It’s okay.”
“Not if you aren’t, Emmett. Not if—”
“Ten.”
The grip on my shoulder has me hanging my head, a call of duty hanging thickly in the air around us.
“Tristen.”
Sighing deep, I trail my gaze up Emmett’s front.
I don’t know what to say. Or do.
How do I leave him like this?
My jaw ticks as I stare as his chin, the thought of looking into those sweet, tear-filled eyes unbearable.
It’s not until his hand rises, and he cups my jaw with his covered palm, that my stomach flips and I meet his gaze.
“I’ll come back,” I rush out before he can say anything. “As soon as we’re done, I’ll be here.”
Emmett’s lips flatten to a thin line, but he nods, one single dip of his chin.
“You shouldn’t,” he says quietly, and then he’s leaning in, closing the small distance between us.
His nose brushes mine, the tips touching ever so slightly, and then he’s gone. Backing away and picking up more shit from the floor.
It’s not until Hatley give my shoulder a squeeze that I unfreeze and turn away.
“C’mon, we gotta go.”
Chapter 55
Emmett
Dragging the last bagto the trashcan outside feels like hauling bricks made of bells with all the glass bottles inside it. They clatter and rattle like crazy when I get them to the top of the pile outside, and when it finally settles, the sudden silence makes my ears ring.
It’s hot. Too hot for this hoodie, but as I swipe the dampness from my brow with the sleeve, the idea of taking it off makes my stomach turn.
I should.
