Phyllis looked at Alison for confirmation, clearly knowing that she of all people wouldn’t bullshit her.
Alison shrugged. “It’s true.”
Phyllis nodded and seemed to relax.
Alison turned to head to the front counter to ask Khloe to go pick up Phyllis’s tea. Leaning against it, taking in every word, was Ryan. He was watching her with a new look in his eyes, one she couldn’t quite place. She really hoped it was lust.
Reaching out, he gently tugged on a strand of her hair. Affection, she realized, her heart tripping. He was looking at her with respect, which was somehow even better. “Where were we?” she whispered.
“You asked what you could bring to the barbecue.”
“Yes,” she said. “Anything. Name it.”
He smiled. “Just you.”
Chapter 22
Step 22: Suspend your ego.
Emma marveled at how fast the time went. Starting her own business—well, half her own, anyway—had been exhausting, stressful, and . . . exhilarating. It was the end of the day and she and Hog were climbing the stairs to her apartment. As always, she counted, but she no longer had to stop to catch her breath.
She was probably almost ready to start running. Not that she’d tested the theory. In fact, she hadn’t expanded her horizons by more than the three-quarters of a mile she’d been walking daily from Paw Pals to go by Jack’s place, hoping for another chance at possibly talking to him, since she’d blown it the last two times by freezing.
She’d canceled the 5K.
Her entire life was different, down to how she looked, so why in the world had she thought she needed to do something that she’d wanted in her old life? It didn’t make any sense.
This was what she told herself, but in the deep, dark of the night, she knew she was afraid to do the race, because if she did, it’d mean she’d be considered whole again, in spite of herself.
That’s how she knew her secret truth. It wasn’t fear of physical pain stopping her. She’d conquered that fear a long time ago. It was fear of moving on when she didn’t believe she deserved to. Emma was also harboring another, even deeper fear. Fear of the relationships that she was forming. With Alison. With Simon. Of loving her new life while still feeling guilty about it.
She hadn’t been able to talk to Jack, but she’d bet her life that he wasn’t whole, wasn’t anywhere close to whole, and she couldn’t leave him behind. Stupid as it might seem, she just couldn’t go forward until he could.
That was when she saw the note on her door, taped right at nose level.
Meet me on the roof.
She recognized Simon’s scrawl, but even if she hadn’t, she’d have known by the way her nipples got happy. Being with him was a thrill that never got old or boring. There was a raw power to his physicality, pure animal instinct just under the tender surface. Knowing each other’s bodies so well only made the intimacy even better.
It was addicting.
He was addicting.
Which was why, even though nothing good could come of continuing their relationship—and that’s what it was, dammit, a relationship—she rushed inside to strip out of her clothes that were covered in slobber and other questionable things. She grabbed a quick shower, then stood naked in her room, pawing through her underwear drawer for the sexiest thing she could find. Catching sight of herself in the mirror above the dresser, she stilled because something was different. It took a moment to hit her.
She felt comfortable in her own skin again.
When had that happened?
And it was more than skin deep, she realized. Maybe she had set aside her old hopes and dreams. Okay, so she’d canceled her race. That was okay because she had new hopes and dreams now. Better ones. And knowing it was like a weight coming off her chest.
She couldn’t wait to tell Simon.
She pulled on a sundress and turned to Hog. “Coming?”
He closed his eyes and started snoring.
“Fine, hold down the fort here. I’ve filled your bowl, don’t eat anything not in it, okay?”
On the roof, she stopped short in wonder.
There were strings of white twinkle lights hung, candles on the coffee table, and a gorgeous night sky, scented by the ocean air.
And Simon, looking good enough to eat.
“I came,” she said inanely.
“Not yet,” he said softly. “But you will.”
Her entire body quivered with anticipation as his eyes soaked her in like she was the best thing he’d ever seen. She might say the same thing about him. He wore jeans and an untucked button-down, the sleeves shoved up to his elbows, looking more delectable than whatever was smelling so good in a takeout bag on the table in front of the couch.
That, coupled with her revelation that her life was good as it was, great even, and that she couldn’t wait to tell him, had Emma smiling a ridiculously cheesy smile she couldn’t hold back. Simon was going to be happy for her, maybe even proud of her. “It’s beautiful,” she said. “I feel so lucky.”
“Every moment I’m with you feels lucky,” he said.
Nope, her smile wasn’t going anywhere. “I thought you were hanging out with your dad tonight.”
“He’s at Alison’s. I wanted tonight with you.” He took her hand and drew her down beside him on the love seat. “No pressure, no games. That’s what I promised you. Do you remember?”
She met his gaze, a little wary. “Yes.”
“We haven’t talked about us in a while.”
“No,” she agreed. “Not since I had to talk you into sleeping with me.”
“You didn’t have to talk me into anything. I wanted you too. Emma, I understand your reservations about us.”
“After all we’ve done, I think you know I no longer have a lot of reservations when it comes to you.”
That got her an almost smile. “Being with you has been the best time of my life,” he said, pulling her into him until she was straddling him, his hands at her hips. “You mean a lot to me, Emma. I want to be heading somewhere with you.”
If he hadn’t been holding on to her, she’d have fallen right off the love seat. Verbal emotions were new for her. Her parents loved her, she knew that, but they weren’t a demonstrative family. Yes, they’d sat by her side for months, making sure she could function on her own, but that was how they loved. By action. Few words. Ned had also been a man of few words. So having someone look her in the eyes and say she meant something to them was humbling. And scary. “Are you sure?”
With a rough laugh, he tightened his grip on her. “Very. Do you need to hear it again?”
“I think so.”
Simon pushed Emma’s hair back from her face. “You mean everything to me.”
Her heart felt all squishy, like it was melting. “You amended.”
“I corrected. You’re one of my very favorite people, Emma.”
Her throat felt thick with emotion as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and touched the tip of her nose to his. “You’ve got a lot of favorite people.”
“My dad and Alison are important to me,” he agreed. “Ryan too. But to be clear, I don’t think about them night and day and I certainly don’t ache to nibble every inch of any of them.”