“I intend to,” I say with a wink. “Shall we go get some coffee, then?”
Chapter Thirteen
ASHTON
That was easier than I anticipated. I’ve spent the last few days thinking up ways to convince her to spend time with me, and buying all the donuts was the best solution in the end. Some leverage or bribing material. I know for a fact she waits an entire month for one of those donuts, and if they all happen to be in my possession, well, it was a no brainer.
Emma swipes the box on top, opening the lid to peer inside. “Why don’t you give the other four boxes to the people in the line?” she says. “There’s a dozen in here, and that’s more than enough for us.”
Following her advice, I hand the leftovers to a man in line. I never intended to eat them anyway. The three hundred dollars I spent to get some one-on-one time with Emma was worth it. I’d buy the entire store if need be.
Coming back to stand beside her, I reach for her free hand. She doesn’t pull away, but there’s uncertainty in her eyes when they meet mine. “Friends hold hands, Em,” I remind her as we start walking. “So, where do you want to go?”
“There’s a great coffee shop a block away. Maybe we can grab something there and go sit in the park.”
“Sounds good.” I honestly don’t care where we go as long as we’re together.
We walk in comfortable silence as all the questions which have been weighing heavily on my mind throughout the past week swim around in my head. But, I need to get her comfortable around me before I go there. Her answers have the potential to end us, but they are things I need to know before this—whatever the hell it is—goes any further.
“How do you take your coffee?” she asks, stepping up to the counter.
“I’ll get them.”
“No, you got the donuts, the drinks are on me.”
I want to protest, but I bite my tongue. “Black, no sugar.”
She smiles. “That’s how I usually have mine but not on Sinful-Saturdays.” I’m curious to see how she drinks her coffee when she’s not watching her calorie intake. Some frou-frou shit, I’m sure. “Can I get a black coffee, no sugar, and a double pump caramel macchiato with extra whip and whole milk?”
Yep, I was right.
Five minutes later, we take a seat on the park bench under the shade of a large evergreen oak tree. Emma places the donuts between us before lifting the lid. The separation is probably a good thing. If she starts moaning like she did the first time we met, it’s going to be hard for me not to react.
“Are you going to try one?” she asks, taking one out and bringing it to her lips. I’d rather watch her eat, to be honest. “These remind me of my mom. She used to make when I was a little girl, that’s why I love them so much.”
Emma gives me a look like she’s waiting for me pick one up, so I do. “Is that where you learned to cook… from your mom?”
“No, she was killed in a car accident when I was little. Honestly, I don’t remember much about her, maybe that’s why I’m so hung-up on these donuts,” she says, releasing a small laugh.
“I’m sorry.”
She shrugs her shoulders. “It was hard on my dad. He was left to raise a young child on his own, but he did a great job. I had a good life.”
I smile as I listen to her talk, but I find myself even more curious to know why she tried to end her life now. What happened to make her think that death was the only way out? I have my theories, but I could be way off the mark. “Can I ask you a personal question?”
“How personal?”
“You know how you said you didn’t want to talk about your first sexual encounter—”
“I still don’t,” she says, cutting me off and staring off into the distance.
I don’t want to force her into talking about something she’s not comfortable with, but it’s been plaguing me ever since we spoke about it. “He didn’t force himself on you, did he?”
“No, he didn’t. I was young and naïve, and I gave myself to him willingly.”
“Then why don’t you want to talk about it?”
“Because it turned out to be the biggest mistake of my life.”
She sighs, placing her donut back in the box.
“How so?”
Dipping her head, she dusts the powdered sugar from her hands before picking at an imaginary piece of lint on her jeans. I feel bad for pressuring her, but if things between us have any chance of progressing, I need to know for certain that she’s nothing like my ex. An omission from her may even shed light on my past, giving me the answers I’ve been craving for the past six years.
As much as I deny it, I like this woman. She occupies my thoughts way more than she should, and I’m constantly thinking up elaborate plans to see her again. I killed her vibrator for Christ’s sake, and there’s a bounty on his replacement. That alone tells me I have it bad.
“We’re friends, you can talk to me about anything,” I say, prodding her to continue.
Taking in a deep breath, her eyes move back to mine. “I was a junior in high school, he was a senior. I was on the committee in charge of organizing their prom night. That’s how we met. He asked me to go to the prom with him. At first, I thought he was joking. He was the most popular guy in school and captain of the football team. He always had a bevy of women hanging off him. What would he want with a chubby farm girl?”
“I’m sure you were as beautiful back then as you are now.”
Her eyes lock with mine briefly before she continues. “Considering I came from a small town with a population of under fifteen-hundred people, I spent the majority of my school years being relatively unnoticed. I didn’t really have any friends. If my head wasn’t buried in a book, I was spending time with our animals or sitting in the driveway with my dad working on cars.” She sighs heavily. “He started pursuing me hard. I couldn’t believe it. He even let me wear his letterman jacket… I thought I was his Sandy… that he was my Danny.”
“You’re what? His who?”
“My Danny… Danny Zuko, from Grease… the movie.”
“Never watched it,” I say.
“Really? Wow. It’s one of the best movies ever made. I may need to reevaluate our friendship.”
“You won’t be unfriending me, Emma. I won’t allow it.”
She releases a small laugh before continuing, “I went from being a nobody to suddenly somewhat popular. People would acknowledge me in the halls, I was asked to eat lunch at the cool kids’ table. A few girls even invited me to hang out with them after school.”
I reach for her hand. “I’m sure you weren’t a nobody, Em.”
“I was,” she says. “I was awkward, shy, and I didn’t wear nice clothes or makeup. All the girls I’d seen him with prior, were beautiful.”
“You’re beautiful.” I hate that she thinks so lowly of herself.
“You’re sweet for saying that.”
“It’s the truth.”
She smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Anyway, I eventually agreed to be his prom date. He said he wanted to travel with his friends, and that he’d meet me there. In hindsight, that should have been my first red flag, but as I said, I was young and naïve. My dad was over the moon when I told him I was going. Before being asked, I hadn’t intended to go.”