Soft fingers dance over mine, light and thin, and send tiny static shocks over my skin clear up to my neck. It’s so intense it almost makes me jerk back. I don’t. Instead, I grab on as he wiggles his way out of the booth and stands, his chest nearly brushing mine with how close I am.
Oh, right. Step back, asshole.
Giving him enough space without letting go, I reach around him and offer my other hand to Hat so I can stop making this weird.
My best friend’s lips smack as he slaps my hand away.
“Don’t go reaching for menow. You’ve had fifteen years.”
A chuckle scrapes past the dryness taking over my throat. “You’re just mad you weren’t my first love.”
He snorts and climbs out beside Emmett, his complexion just a little bit livelier than it was when we got here.
“Sure. Keep lying to yourself, bro.”
I shrug, lean down to steal the last bite from Emmett’s plate, and spin him toward the exit. The move has his arm crossing his chest, mine draping across the back of his neck, and when he doesn’t protest, I let the full weight settle across his shoulders with each of our matched steps.
He’s hot—temperature-wise—against my side, waves of heat radiating through both his hoodie and my leather, and it does something to my stomach to feel it.
He’s like a little heater and it’s so much better than what he felt like on that bathroom floor.
Cold. He was so cold.
The small smile tipping up my lips fades when Emmett attempts to pry his fingers from between mine.
When did they even intertwine?
I hold on tighter. It’s instinct that furrows my brow and keeps his grip trapped in mine when he pulls again.
I don’t want it to end.
“They’re staring,” he whispers thickly.
My jaw jumps with a tick. My gaze sweeps the diner.
Hatley’s already at the door, holding it open for another customer and waiting for us. But when I look just behind him, I see the sneer on some old woman’s face. The look of disgust tainting her dull eyes. The condescending shake of her head with each step that Em and I draw closer.
“Sickeningyouths,” she mutters. “God would be ashamed.”
A bitter laugh barks out of me and Emmett startles.
“You’re just jealous my boyfriend’s cuter than you,ma’am.”
She sputters more nonsense, her jaw slackened when I tug him in so close that there’s no space left between us and plant a kiss right to his temple.
“Have ablessed day,” I snarl through a grin as we pass, raising my middle finger on the hand that Emmett’s now clinging to. It feels like the perfectfuck youto show his hand in mine.
Hatley’s wide gaze lands on mine as he ushers us out the door, his burst of laughter following close behind.
It’s contagious and when my boots hit the parking lot, I spin Emmett back around so that he’s untangled from me. Grip his hand in mine. Take one look into his sweet, smiling eyes, and run for the truck.
He barely keeps up, his feet stumbling as I pull him along, but when I hear the sound of tinkling laughter following me, I don’t stop.
Even as we pass the truck and his laugh gets louder, I keep tugging him along.
Please don’t let it stop.
Circling a few cars down, the thunder of Hat’s steps close behind, his shouts fill the air. Something abouthey, jackass, we’re right hereandwhere the fuck are you going.
