By the time wemake it downtown, the sun has set on the color-speckled cobblestone street and most of the crowds have migrated to the nightlife part of the town. The bars, the clubs, the parties.
Which left us with dining and that play Hatley mentioned.
It was … cute. Simple. An improv group with props that played a show about a boy falling in love and though Emmett seemed enthralled at first, his head was lolling on my shoulder by the second act.
Pretty sure he slept through them kissing on stage.
I only feel slightly guilty for imagining that kind of kiss with Emmett and popping a boner in public.
It’s not until we get back out onto the street that he walks close enough to me that I feel the heat from his arm. My sleeves are rolled up, but his are down, and he has to be hot as fuck.
“You can take the tie off,” I remind him, the peek of green flashing through the neck of the hoodie he put on over top of the dress shirt he’s still in, and I have no idea how he’s not passing out from heat exhaustion at this point.
Even mine is tucked into my pocket, my blazer left behind in the truck.
“I like green,” he murmurs, his eyes trained on something up ahead.
I like you in green.
I go to say the words out loud but stop when Em freezes. Halts right there next to me, his lips dropping open.
“What’s wrong?”
“T-they’re … kissing.” He says it with wonder. Wistfulness. Maybe with a hint of fear, and I follow his line of sight to the next block up.
We’ve passed a few guys holding hands. Girls with arms around each other and rainbow stickers on their face. You name it. It’s not new to me that this part of town is more open, more accepting, but it is to Emmett.
And against the brick wall, out in the open, is a guy in a suit with light hair and his hand shoved all the way inside the undone fly of the guy he’s making out with.
It’s not until their tongues untangle and the dark-haired guy throws his head back, face contorted in passion, that I recognize him.
“No fucking way.”
A wave of something hot and ugly rears inside me, and I take a step in their direction, only stopping at the feel of Emmett’s hand grabbing mine.
“Tristen, don’t. Please.”
My jaw ticks, blood boiling, as the guy who had theaudacityto throw slurs at me now has another man making his eyes roll back.
Ashton.
Scoffing, I squeeze Em’s fingers and turn around.
I don’t want to see him. I certainly don’t want to watch him fucking finish.
“Hypocrite.”
“Wh-what’s wrong with it?” Emmett asks me too quietly, his breath pumping as he keeps up my pace.
I slow.
“There’s nothing wrong with it, but that guy is a fucking asshole. That’s the one from the track.”
“You made him go to sleep.”
“Yeah, that one.”
Emmett sighs but doesn’t say anything else. Just walks by my side as I curl around the block and away from the party scene.We were heading in the direction of the bars anyway.
