But Emma?
She argues like she was born to piss me off.
And the worst part?
I fucking like it.
I take another long drink.
The way she gets loud.
The way she refuses to back down.
The fire in her eyes when she’s angry.
Every detail keeps replaying.
Everyone else walks on eggshells around me.
Emma just keeps kicking the damn hornet’s nest.
“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath.
I shouldn’t have lost control like that in her kitchen.
Not with her.
Not like that.
But Christ…
The way she fought me.
The way she pushed back instead of melting like the others.
The way she kissed me like she was trying to win.
I drag a hand down my beard and exhale slowly.
Anger and attraction.
That combination usually ends badly.
A pair of hands slides onto my shoulders.
I flinch instantly.
My body reacts before my brain even catches up.
“Rough night, Prez?” a voice purrs.
I don’t even turn around.
“Move.”
The girl giggles behind me.
Ginger.
