“Emme, I want you to listen to me. No guy who says shit like that to you is worth your tears.”
“I know. I do, but it still hurts,” she said into his chest.
He kissed top of her head then tilted it back. Her eyes were puffy and her nose was red. “You’re beautiful and smart and special. One day, you’re going to find someone who sees all of that in you and treats you the way you deserve to be treated. It sure as hell isn’t going to be an asshole like David Baker.”
“You’re just saying that.”
“Have I ever lied to you?”
She sniffed and took a shuddering breath through parted lips. Her long, spiky lashes framed eyes that had little flecks of green in them. Shit. Shewasbeautiful. When had that happened? When had little Emme Lou Who grown up?
He shouldn’t notice. She was his best friend’s little sister and four years younger. Her gaze dropped to his mouth and he lost his will to fight. He closed the distance between them, giving her time to pull away.
She didn’t and he tasted her tears.
It was sweet and chaste, like something out of chick flick. He tried to tell himself it didn’t mean anything — he was just comforting her, but a small part of his mind knew he was lying to himself. Kissing Emme was different. Special.
And a mistake that could never happen again.
