I swallow past the lump that’s stuck in my throat.
It landed there when we hopped into the backseat of a black SUV driven by the man who chauffeurs Drake around town.
Emma dropped her ass into the middle of the seat, so I had no choice but to settle in next to her.
I watched her profile in silence as she chatted up the driver. I can’t even recall the guy’s name at this point. All I can remember about the ride is that Emma’s tongue kept darting out to wet her bottom lip.
It happens again as she stands facing me.
I tear my gaze away from her heart-shaped mouth.
“It was kind of you to think of me,” she says softly.
It was wrong of me to think of her naked in the bathtub. That’s exactly what I did as I stood in front of the bubble bath display at Matiz Cosmetics. I smelled every scent until I decided on the two I purchased for her.
I took note when she announced to Gavin and me that the bodega had run out of bubble bath. It made sense to get it for her on my way back to my apartment this afternoon.
I knew she wanted it, so I made it happen. Whether that’s because she’s my best friend’s sister is unclear to me at this point.
My attraction to her is blurring with my desire to do Drake a favor by making sure she has everything she needs during this trip.
Wanting to focus on something other than my imagined images of her naked body, I jerk a thumb to my right. “We’re almost there. It’s around this corner. You’re about to experience the best sushi you’ve ever had.”
I had the driver drop us a block over from our final destination because I couldn’t listen to another second of him flirting with Emma. Greenwich Village is packed tonight, so the time saved with us walking the extra block as opposed to crawling along in traffic is a bonus.
Emma gives me a wary smile. “I can’t wait.”
Something tells me she can, but we’re feet away from one of the best sushi experiences of my life, so I start toward the corner. “You don’t have to. Let’s go.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Emma
Since I met Case,I’ve noticed that he has sad eyes. It’s not that his eyes aren’t beautiful because they are. They’re a green shade that makes me think of summer days spent running barefoot through soft grass. They are intense in a comforting sense, but there’s a level of sorrow that has settled within them.
I see it as he stares at the shoe store that now occupies the space where his favorite sushi restaurant used to be.
“It’s gone,” he mutters under his breath.
I’d offer my condolences, but we’re in Manhattan. On this block alone, there are at least a half dozen restaurants open for business.
The plus is that not one of them is serving raw fish. I’m not opposed to trying new things, but since I’m not a fan of cooked fish, I’d prefer something that doesn’t swim in the ocean to be my dinner tonight.
“This city has changed.” He scrubs a hand over the back of his neck. “So much has changed.”
Everything changes. I’ve learned that myself the past few weeks. Counting on anything to remain the same is foolish.
“Maybe they relocated to another part of the city,” I say the words even though I hope like hell that the restaurant has shuttered its doors for good.
He glances at me. “Maybe.”
Scrolling a thumb over his phone’s screen, I wait impatiently with crossed fingers hoping that the restaurateur in question has decided to focus on another culinary specialty. Maybe he traded in his sushi rolling mat for a pizza oven.
“No luck.” He pockets his phone and glances down the block. “I’m hungry. Are you okay with us eating something other than sushi tonight?”
“I’m totally okay with that,” I say a little too enthusiastically.
He eyes me. “Why am I getting the feeling that you’re not a fan of sushi?”
