Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92136 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92136 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Emme was in the kitchen, finishing the dishes. She’d put her hair in a ponytail, and I recalled the way it had felt like spun silk in my hands. I wanted to touch it again. I wanted to touch her again. So I crossed my arms and leaned back against the counter, five feet away from her, the island between us. “You know, if that whole event planning thing doesn’t work out, you’d be a kickass housekeeper. I’d hire you.”
She smiled at me over one shoulder, eyes narrowed. “You couldn’t afford me.”
“Ha.”
“You get her back to sleep?”
“I did. Got her to take the pacifier.”
“Good job.” She turned off the water and dried her hands. Then she turned around. “So.”
Fuck, she was cute in my shirt. “So.”
She twisted her hands together and glanced over at the couch. “Guess I was a little loud,” she said sheepishly.
“I didn’t mind.”
“Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever been that loud.”
Oh, Jesus, Emme. Don’t tell me that. “Good.”
“I’m sorry you didn’t get to—you didn’t—” She made a little bursting motion with her fingers.
I had to laugh. “What is that? An orgasm?”
“Yes,” she said, giggling too, although her cheeks went a little pink.
“Well, don’t be sorry. I quite enjoyed myself. And actually, it’s probably better that we were interrupted before we took it too far.”
“Definitely. I mean, what were we thinking?” Her eyes were wide.
“I’m not sure there was a whole lot of thinking going on.”
She laughed. “Probably none at all.”
“Let’s call it a momentary lapse in sanity. Forget it happened.”
Her smile was relieved. “Let’s.”
“Friends?”
She nodded. “Friends.”
But we stood there looking at each other across the kitchen for a moment longer, and I found myself wishing that somehow we could be more. That there was a state of closeness that existed between friendship and commitment. Something more than platonic but less than romantic. Did such a thing exist?
No. And she wouldn’t want it if it did.
“Well, I should go,” she said. “It’s late.”
I followed her out of the kitchen and watched her drape her blouse and jacket over her arm. “Oh, your shirt!” she said, turning to me with a worried expression.
“Keep it,” I told her. “Looks better on you.”
She smiled at me and stepped into her heels. “I’ll wash it and bring it back.”
Actually, I kind of liked the idea of her lying around in it, maybe sleeping in it with nothing underneath, but that was probably the kind of thing you didn’t say to a friend. And you definitely didn’t imagine yourself smelling it once she gave it back. “Okay.”
She walked to the door and opened it herself, which totally violated my sense of chivalry, but I thought it might be smarter to keep some distance between us. “Night,” she said, glancing back over her shoulder.
“Night,” I echoed, remembering her hand in mine as we’d lain next to each other in bed last night.
The door shut behind her with a soft click, and I breathed a huge sigh of relief.
I needed a break from her. The more time we spent together, the easier she made my life, the harder it was to suppress these stupid urges I had whenever she was around. Urges that could ruin our friendship and destroy her opinion of me. If I was really the man I was pretending to be—no, the man I wanted to be, strong and able and independent, I’d be able to get through a few days without her.
I vowed to do it, starting tomorrow.
Seven
Emme
My head was spinning. I couldn’t believe what we’d done. What we’d almost done. Was there a full moon or something? A strange disturbance in the electromagnetic spectrum? An unusual alignment of the planets? I’d read my horoscope earlier, and it hadn’t mentioned anything remotely interesting—something about keeping my distance from issues that trigger my feelings of imprisonment, which I didn’t even have.
I didn’t recall letting myself into my apartment, going upstairs, or getting undressed for bed. It was only when I stood in front of the mirror, wearing only his white T-shirt over my underwear, toothbrush in one hand, toothpaste in the other, that I caught my reflection and realized where I was. But I had no idea how long I’d even been standing there. All I could think about was Nate.
Don’t obsess. It was a mistake, it meant nothing, and you need to forget it.
And I would. I really would.
But not just yet.
It was too fresh in my mind, every detail still vivid and thrilling.
The torture of his lips so close to mine, not yet touching them. The booming in my chest as I waited to see what would happen. The will-he-or-won’t-he agony that stole my breath and rendered me unable to move even one little finger.
And then…
Closing my eyes, I swooned, remembering how it had felt when he’d finally given in to it.