And so I say, “I want to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
Emily stares at me, a strange expression in her eyes. Then her lips press tight, and she grabs the box of straws off the shelf. “Don’t worry. It won’t.” She pushes past me as she walks out of the storage room, her footsteps hard on the floor.
I scrub a hand down my face. Fuck. Why did I have to say it like that? I didn’t mean to hurt her. She completely misunderstood what I meant.
But how can I explain it without giving myself away?
Goddamn it. This sucks.
And now it’s on me to figure out how to make us okay again.
11
EMILY
“What are you doing?”
Rock’s question booms against my back as I arrange the blanket on the couch. We just got back from the bar a few minutes ago and all I want to do is sleep.
My answer to him is simple. Emotionless. “Getting ready for bed.”
“I’m not letting you sleep out here. We already went over this.”
I grab my pajamas and walk away from him. Rock follows me into the bathroom. He stands in the doorway, so I can’t close the door.
“Excuse me,” I say.
He sighs and steps back. I shut the door. But I know he’s still standing on the other side.
I’ve barely been able to look at him since our confrontation in the stock room earlier tonight. It was embarrassing enough to have kissed him, but to have him tell me that he never wants it to happen again—as if I was ever considering it!—was too much.The worst part was that when he said it, he had this look of disgust on his face, revealing exactly how much he was repulsed by my brief lapse in judgment.
Paige was right after all. My best friend is an asshole.
And the first thing I’m going to do in the morning is find somewhere else to stay.
I squeeze out some toothpaste onto my toothbrush and angrily brush my teeth. After rinsing out my mouth, I change into my pajamas, then sit down on the toilet.
“Are you going to stand there and listen to me pee?” I yell through the door.
I hear Rock grumble something, then say, “We’re talking when you get out.”
I roll my eyes. I’m sure he’s had all night to think of ways to try to smooth this issue over, but I don’t want to hear it. With enough time, my anger will go away and we’ll be fine again, but that’s the only thing that’s going to work. Time. And space.
Ireallyneed somewhere else to stay.
I wash my hands and open the bathroom door. Rock is pacing around his living room, treading back and forth in front of the couch like he’s a wild animal guarding his territory. He stops pacing when he sees me and takes a step toward me.
“I just want to go to sleep, Rock.”
He shakes his head. “No. We’re talking about this. I don’t care how late it is.”
“Look, I get it. You’re worried it meant something when I kissed you. But it didn’t. It was a stupid spur-of-the-moment decision,nothing more, nothing less. We don’t need to talk about it. You don’t need to worry about me trying to do it again. Okay?”
“Do you actually mean that?”
“Of course I mean it! Why wouldn’t I mean it?”
“Because it’s important, Em. I need to know.”
