“I don’t know. It’s different for each person. What is it you’re feeling now?”
Love. Fear. Bone-deep sorrow. Ache. Longing. “Awe.”
Emmett’s eyes flit from my eyes to my lips, then back again.No one is going to want to kiss you if you can’t look at them.That’s what he said to me before the first time he kissed me in a rain-soaked coaching inn.
He’s looking at me now. Those sharp hazel eyes are the same, no matter what else has changed, and there is fire behind them.
“Please keep looking at me like that,” I breathe.
Emmett’s eyes shine with want, and his broad hands flex over the blanket. I have a sudden awareness of my own heartbeat, and the flush creeping up my neck.
This isn’t anything like the frantic kiss in the hallway. I feel each nerve under my skin firing, the way the muscles in my arms go warm and lax.
I know just how his lips will feel, how they’ll move against mine and how he’ll take a breath before deepening the kiss. I know just how he loves to trail his mouth against the column of my neck, how he’ll arch against me when I take a fist of his hair. He’ll tip me back against the blanket and in the mist of the waterfall, I’ll have him and it’ll feel like coming home.
Each day we spent apart stretches between us now, and all I want is to close the distance.
I lean in, my eyes fluttering shut.
The grass rustles and I open my eyes to see Emmett pushing himself up off the ground and brushing dirt from his pants. “It’s getting late.”
My heart stutters, then cracks. I gesture to the bright blue sky. “If you’re going to reject me, you need to come up with a better excuse than that.” I can barely get the words out; they hurt too badly.
Emmett won’t even look at me.
“You don’t understand.”
“Then help me! Let me in!” This feels like an awful repeat of our fight last night. “Do the girls you kiss at revels mean more to you than me?”
His hands clench into fists and then unfurl. “I beg of you, do not judge me for the way I’ve survived.”
Emmett gathers our supplies from the ground in a hurry. I’ve never seen anyone fold a picnic blanket with so much ire. There’s tension in every line of his body, like he’s holding something back. “I have work to do.” Emmett turns back toward the castle.
“With Lydia?” I spit.
“Yes, with Lydia. I will not allow you to throw that relationship in my face.”
“She’s my sister!”
Emmett whips his head back around to me. “And she’s my best friend.”
“Then go, go to her.” Every crack in my heart that had begun to heal splits open once more.
Emmett waits and extends a hand to help me off the ground.
When I put my hand in his, he glances from side to side and then up to the cliffs of the waterfall, like he suddenly fears we’re being watched.
Just as quickly, he turns back to me and his face softens into agony.
“I won’t trouble you with my presence any longer. I can walk alone,” I say, my voice brittle.
Emmett shakes his head. “I’m not going to dignify that with a response.”
“Leave me alone.” I’m on the edge of crying and I don’t want him to see me break.
I start walking and he’s silent for long enough that I don’t think he’s going to respond, but his answer comes in a voice so low, I don’t think he means for me to hear. “I’ve never been capable of that.”
I walk faster, but he stays just a few paces behind me, like a watchful shadow, all the way back to the castle.
