“I got you something today.”
He turned and dried off his hands, walking to the table where a brown bag sat. Reaching in, he pulled out a large, hardcover book and came over, handing it to me.
“It’s used, but it caught my eye today when I walked past the library’s sidewalk sale.”
Greatest Deep Sea Dives.
I smiled and started flipping through it, evidencing my interest. “It’s great,” I chirped. “The photography is so beautiful.”
“I thought you’d like it.”
He turned and grabbed his Thermos and lunchbox, and a glimmer of relief hit me, knowing he was getting ready to leave for the night shift. I drew in a welcome lungful of air.
“I love coffee table books,” I assured him. “Thanks for remembering.”
He came over and kissed my forehead, and I stilled, only relaxing again when he’d backed away.
“Lock up tight,” he said. “And sleep well. I’ll be home at seven.”
“Bye.”
He left, heading to work, but it wasn’t until I heard his car engine fade away down the street that I finally moved.
Putting the grocery bag in recycling, I carried my book, checking the doors and making sure lights were off before heading upstairs to my room. I left the lamp off and trailed to my bookshelf, pushing the row of books upright again and slipping in the newest addition to my collection.
Barcelona: An Architectural History.
101 Most Amazing Caves.
Always Audrey: Six Iconic Photographers. One Legendary Star.
West: The American Cowboy.
History of the World Map by Map…
I backed up, reading all the other spines on the two shelves, heavy with more than just the weight of the hardbacks. I liked to put them on the shelf whenever he gave me one. It pleased him to see me display his gifts, but also…it was like I’d accomplished something. It was like a trophy.
When the bruises faded, and I had nothing else to show for what would never fade in my head, I had this.
One book for every time I stood back up.
Again.
And again.
And again.
He’d bought me other things over the years, presents every time he’d spent his anger and the guilt crept in, and those things were also set about the room. Things I’d leave behind when I left, so that when he came in here, he’d see and remember everything, but I’d be gone.
I dropped my eyes.
At least, that’s what I told myself.
My grandmother slept down the hall, the record player in her room working its way to the end of side A, and I wanted her to live forever, but sometimes…
Martin would be so much worse if she weren’t here. She was the only person who loved me. I needed her to stay alive.
But she was in pain.
And if she were still alive when I was supposed to go to college, I couldn’t leave. I couldn’t leave her with him, and I’d have to stay here.
I hated myself for that thought, but…
While I didn’t want her to go, I needed to get out of here.
What the hell was I going to do?
I hugged myself in my cardigan, only wearing my sleep shorts and tank top underneath, and turned around to close my curtains.
But someone sat there, in the corner of my room in my chair.
I gasped, jumping back.
“Hey,” Will said.
My eyes widened, and I breathed hard, my heart still lodged in my throat. “What the hell?” I dashed to my window, plastering my cheek to the pane to get a view of the driveway and make sure my brother was gone.
“No candle in your window tonight?” he asked.
But I wasn’t listening. “Are you insane?”
I scanned as much of the street as I could see through the tree outside, but I didn’t see Will’s truck. Hopefully, he’d parked it far away.
How the hell did he get in here? My brother just left. He could’ve seen him.
“You have to light a candle, Emmy.”
“I never light a candle!” I growled in a whisper so my grandma wouldn’t hear. “I don’t give a shit about EverNight. You have to leave.”
He sat there, wearing jeans and an Army green T-shirt that brought out the color of his eyes even from here. His hair was relaxed, the gel from the day about gone and laying across his temples so beautifully.
“What did I say?” he said in a low voice. “If you don’t come to me, I’ll come to you.”
So I didn’t show up down at the end of the block. As important as a Mission: Impossible marathon was, I had other things to do, and he neglected to ask if I was free tonight.
He stared up at me, his arms resting on the chair, and I forced a scowl, despite the shot of excitement through my body at seeing him.
“I can’t believe Emory Scott has a poster of Sid and Nancy on her wall,” he joked. “A couple of obnoxious junkies, one who could barely even play his guitar.”
“Please,” I asked, ignoring his teasing. “You can’t be here.”
He rose slowly, never taking his eyes off mine. “Or maybe you have a thing for doomed romances.”
I stepped back as he stepped forward. “Just leave,” I told him again.
But he kept coming. “You’re so pretty,” he whispered.
I shook my head, curling my fingers into fists.
“But I’m getting really tired of you looking at me like that,” he said, his expression suddenly serious. “Like I can’t be trusted.”
Well, could he? And even if I could trust him to have good intentions with me, I wasn’t ready for this. I didn’t want him involved in my life. I was doing him a favor.
I loved the theater, and I’d treasure the memory forever.
But Damon was right. Yesterday was fun. We were done.
“You need to leave,” I said again.
His eyes sharpened on me. “And I’m getting really fucking tired of you saying that.” His jaw flexed. “What’s the problem? Yesterday was amazing. Why do you always have to think so much until you’ve twisted something that was good into something bad?”
“I don’t owe you anything,” I bit out, “and I didn’t invite you in, so just leave! Get out.”
He stopped, the glare in his eyes almost as heart-stopping as his smile. “You know, I was nicer to you than I had to be.” He squared his shoulders. “You know how many girls I can get like that?”
He snapped his fingers, and the funny, laidback, sweet protector from the last several days was gone.
Believe me, I was well aware that he could get any piece of ass he wanted and had already. I wasn’t the first to touch or kiss him.
“Well, I should just thank my lucky stars that all my relentless, hard work following you around like a pathetic puppy just to get your attention actually paid off!” I yelled, calling him out fucking good.
He chased me! Not the other way around.
He took a step toward me but then someone called my name, and he stopped, both of us glowering at each other.
My blood boiled, and I could see his neck glowing with a light layer of sweat already.
Everything was hot. It was dark, we were close, and my bed was right there.
My clit throbbed once, and I stopped breathing.
“Emmy,” a small voice called again.
I blinked, releasing the breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.