Dread fills my gut as soon as I look down at my phone and see that Emerson still hasn’t returned my texts. Since that first class I’ve felt like complete shit, after her witnessing the forced kiss with Holly, and then having to leave, it feels like I’ve let her down.
This isn’t how I wanted today to go. The entire day has been a cluster fuck. Running a hand through my hair in frustration, I try and figure out how the hell I'm going to do this.
My phone dings right then, an incoming text from Vance.
Got her, on my way.
Thank fuck. I can only hope Vance isn’t his normal cheery self and acts like a nice person for once. Exiting the office, I head for the elevator. I press the elevator button three times, as if that would make the damn thing come up faster.
“Clark Jefferson?” someone calls from a distance. I turn to find a guy I’m positive I've never seen before standing a few feet away from me. He looks to be my dad's age, thick brown hair, two beady eyes the color of shit. He's wearing a suit that says look at me, I’m rich. A watch that cost more money than most people make in a year.
“Do I know you?” I ask, not bothering to hide my annoyance. I don’t know this guy, but instantly I don’t like him. There’s just something about him that rubs me the wrong way. Deep down in my gut, I know this guy is bad news.
“No, you probably don’t remember me. I’m Rick Paulson,” he introduces himself, holding out a hand, which I reluctantly take. God forbid I do something that makes my father look bad. “Your father and I used to have a law firm together when we first started out. It was a long time ago, so I don't expect you to remember. I just moved back to town.”
“Yeah, welcome to North Woods,” I tell him just as the elevator doors finally open up. “Nice meeting you,” I lie and step into the elevator.
“I’m sure we’ll see each other more often from now on,” Rick calls, a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes appearing on his lips before walking away. The doors slide shut and the elevator starts to descend. Sagging against the wall, I squeeze my shuts and scrub a hand down my face. I’m stressing the fuck out, and without sex that stress is just mounting, building and building. With the elevator dings and the doors open, I step out.
I walk out of the building and spot Vance’s car pulling into the parking lot right away. Perfect timing.
As soon as I see the red hair in the passenger seat, I feel the tension in my shoulders release. I walk down the stone steps and Vance pulls up right in front of me. He barely as the car parked and I'm opening the passenger door. I extend my hand out to Emerson. Her big beautiful eyes find mine, a million emotions swimming in those blue orbs.
“Come on, let’s go home,” I say softly though the tension rippling through my body doesn't match my tone of voice. Emerson takes my hand and I help her out of the car, my attention all on her. The wind blows and her sweet honeysuckle scent wafts into my nose.
“Nice to see you too, asshole,” Vance grumbles from the driver’s seat.
Ignoring his asshole remark, I answer, “Thanks for bringing her, I'll talk to you tomorrow.”
He nods and grins knowingly at me right before I shut the car door. With Emerson beside me, I feel like I can breathe again. I tighten my grip on her hand, not wanting her to pull away as we walk to the truck. Only when we reach the truck, do I release her, but only so I can get into the driver's seat.
Starting the truck, I pull out of the parking lot, trying to think of how to start this conversation. It's the ballooning elephant in the room and if I want things to go back to normal, then we need to talk.
Glancing over at her, I can see she's focused her attention on her nails, as if they're more fascinating than me.
Fuck. I wanted to wait until we got home to do this, but with every second that passes with her in this can my resolve diminishes. I need to talk now, I need to explain.
“I’m sorry about earlier, it really wasn’t what it looked like—”
“You don’t have to apologize,” Emerson cuts me off, her tone light. “We’ve been over this. You don’t owe me anything. You can do whatever you want with whoever you want. It’s none of my business. I don’t care who you kiss Clark.”
White knuckling the steering wheel I remind myself of the fact that she is doing this to protect herself. She’s trying to cut me out, trying to make it seem like there is nothing between us, but even a blind person could see the chemistry, the compassion.
I don’t care who you kiss…
Her words anger me, enrages me. Gritting my teeth, I shut my mouth taking the rest of the ride home to calm down, thinking about what I’m going to say when we get to the house.
By the time we pull up to the condo, I still haven’t come up with anything good. I park in front and cut off the engine. Emerson grabs her backpack and gets out before I can come around and help her out.
Frowning, I follow her to the door and unlock it. She pushes the door open and heads straight for her room.
“I’m going to bed,” she said without even looking at me.
“No, you’re not,” I snap, shutting the door behind me with a little more force than needed. She stops walking and spins around to look at me, shock and terror written all over her delicate features. I hate how she's looking at me, like I would ever hurt her.
“Don’t look at me like that, I just want to talk.” I know I’m pushing her boundaries, pushing her into unknown waters. Maybe I should back off, or maybe I need to push her a little, see how far she's willing to go.
“Why did you run off earlier?”
She starts to back up at my question, her head shaking back and forth. “It’s nothing. I don’t care who you kiss…. If… I mean if that’s what you're referring to.” Her stutter is adorable. I stalk toward her, which causes her to take a step back, and another and another until she's against the wall with nowhere to run.
My eyes drop down to her heart-shaped face, her eyes, fear resides there, but so does another emotion. It trickles in slowly, dissolving the fear, drop by drop. Want? Arousal? Maybe a combination of both, I have no clue. All I know is I would rather see that then fear, or sadness.
“I didn’t kiss her, Em. She kissed me when I was distracted… distracted by you. I didn’t want to kiss her…I don’t want her.” Long lashes the color of autumn leaves fan against her cheeks as she blinks up at me.
Lifting a finger, I trail it against the creamy flesh of her cheek, so warm, so fucking perfect. I never saw her coming, never saw her ruling my mind, my body, my heart, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to let her go. She needs me as badly as I need her.
“I saw the sadness flicker in your eyes. Why were you sad, Emerson?” My voice is low, deep and gravelly. I can feel my cock pressing against my zipper begging to be unleashed, but when it comes to Emerson, he doesn’t rule me. No, it’s the muscle beating out of control in my chest that does.
She owns your heart.
My eyes roam down her face stopping on her chest. It heaves up and down, but not so fast that I worry she’s afraid. No fear isn't what she's experiencing right now.
Caging her with my body, leaning in, so close I can almost feel her lips against mine, I whisper, “Why?”