“Because! If I’m not fighting with you—” He stops his shouting, scrubbing a palm over his mouth, as if he were tearing off the filter. “If I’m not fighting with you, then I’m too busy wanting to fuck you.”
And there they are. The words are out in the open for both of us to hear.
We stand off with one another, heaving chests and unsteady breaths. Just waiting for the other to break the rules. To cut the tension. To just give in already.
Neither of us do.
Emmett exhales a resigned sigh. “And we both know that can’t happen.”
His shoulders slump and I feel mine deflate the same way, both of us giving up the fight. There’s not much more to fight about. We both want something we can’t have, and there’s not a whole lot either of us can do about it.
Emmett shakes his head and slowly makes his way to the bench he was using earlier, sitting and leaning against the back support. He runs his fingers through his hair before linking them behind his head and staring off into nothing. Too exhausted. Too defeated.
I should leave. We both need space to let that heated moment cool. But when I reach for the door, I don’t have the will to push it open and go.
My head is screaming to create some distance, but my head is the last thing I want to listen to right now.
I take the door handle and pull inward, making sure it’s closed. Then I turn the lock.
To keep others out? To keep us in? I’m not sure. I’m not thinking all that clearly at the moment.
Crossing the room to meet him, I don’t let myself second-guess what I want. This is his fault, I decide. Looking like that. Fighting with me like that.Wantingme like that.
Emmett’s corded thighs are spread with the bench between them, so facing him, I swing one of my legs over to straddle his lap. There was a time I might be too self-conscious to drop my full weight, but then I turned thirty years old and stopped giving a shit. So I sit, resting my entire body on his.
He doesn’t even have to adjust to hold me, his muscular legs having absolutely no issue balancing me.
“Reese—”
“Just...” I take his face in both hands, fingers smoothing over the short hair behind his ears. “Shut up for a second.”
Then I do the most reckless thing possible, and while at our place of work, I press my mouth to his.
24
Emmett
Reese is kissing me.
Again.
I could’ve sworn it was a one-time thing, but here we are, her soft lips nestled against mine. I’ve been dreaming of this, and I’d tell her that if my mouth wasn’t currently occupied.
She’s pure confidence in the way she holds my face in her hands, kissing me exactly how she wants. Confident in the way she just came over and sat on my lap like a goddamn queen taking her rightful throne.
Reese goes after what she wants. It’s one of the sexiest traits about her, and right now, she wantsme.
I wish I could want someone other than you.
Those words feel like they’re etched into my chest, creating this desperate determination to ensure she never will.
I’m angry and turned all the way on.
Irrationally angry because some random guy was here in her vicinity. Rationally angry that I can’t have her.
But right now, she’s sitting onmylap. Kissingme, so I should really tell my brain to shut up so I can focus.
This kiss is smooth, entirely in sync, as if the one and only kiss we shared before tonight made us experts in one another.
