Chapter 10
“Noooo, no no no no no!” I slam my hands against the steering wheel. Smoke pours from my car”s engine as I try to safely cross three lanes of traffic and pull over to the freeway’s shoulder. “This isn’t happening. This cannot be happening,” I damn near sob as I grab my phone and call for a tow.
I’d slept well past noon today after last night”s scare, then rushed out the door to make it to my closing on time. I’d taken a quick body shower, threw my hair up into a messy bun, and grabbed a pair of black leggings and an oversized sweater that hadn’t been packed away yet, looking about as unprofessional as possible for the biggest purchase of my life.
I was barely going to make it to the closing on time as it was, and now here I sit, the tow truck company stating it will be over an hour until they can get to me.
Fighting the emotions trying to claw their way up my throat, I call the only person who can help me right now.
“Miss Miles,” he drawls by way of greeting. “You’re late.”
“Emmett,” I breathe out, the emotional dam breaking. “I’m so sorry.” I start rambling. “My car broke down and I’m waiting for a tow and please don’t let them cancel the closing. I have to be out of my apartment by Sunday and I’ll have nowhere to go and I just need—”
“Riley,” he interrupts, his deep voice steady and calm. “Just take a deep breath.” I do, breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth. “Send me your location. I”ll come pick you up.”
“What about the closing?” I ask, praying we don’t have to reschedule.
“It’ll be fine,” he assures. “We can still close today.” His voice is oddly comforting, a stark contrast to every other interaction I’ve had with him.
“Thank you,” I whisper, and text him a pin to where I’m at. “I just sent my location.”
I hear a ding on his end, notifying him of my text, before he says, “Got it. I’ll be there in twenty-five minutes.”
He ends the call, and I lean my head back against the headrest. At least we can still close today. It’s a huge relief. I don’t have the cash for temporary housing, especially not with my car now dead on the side of the road. And I highly doubt my landlord would have allowed me to stay longer after I already gave him notice I’d be out this weekend.
An unexpected feeling of guilt washes over me then as I realize that after closing, I probably won’t ever see Emmett again. Not that I wanted to see him again. The man’s been nothing but infuriating from the moment I first texted him. I’d been looking forward to this day, knowing that I wouldn’t have to face him anymore. That’s what I wanted, right?
So why does the idea of not seeing him again suddenly make me feel a little upset?
Maybe it’s because he offered to come pick me up. Like some knight in shining armor coming to save the day and whisk me off to my closing.
Yeah, that’s definitely it.
It’s not because he ignites a fire in my veins and a fluttering in my belly.
It’s absolutely not because of how attractive he is, with that muscular body and those deliciously tattooed arms.
And I know for certain it’s not because of the way I was so desperate for release when he was touching me yesterday, bringing me close to the edge, dying to fall over it and into that sweet, sweet oblivion.
“Ughhh.” I let out a groan, burying my face in my hands.
Maybe I should try to play a little nicer with him. Maybe then he’d play a little nicer with me. And who knows, maybe then today won’t be the last time I see him.
But do I even want that?
I don’t know anymore. This last week has been like a tornado tearing through my life, spinning me round and round until I don’t even know for certain which way is up and which way is down. It feels like my entire world is off kilter, and I still haven’t adjusted to the change.
God, but the way Emmett was willing to just drop everything for me–to come and pick me up, no questions asked. It might not seem like a big deal to someone else, but to me, it was everything. There’s so few people in my life that I could ever rely on like that. To be there at the drop of a hat, to have my back in a time of need. Tracy’s one of the only ones.
He didn’t have to come out here and get me. I’m sure he’s busy, and the last thing he needs is to spend close to an hour driving just to pick up my sorry ass from the side of the road. I’ve probably thrown off the rest of his day. Not to mention we’ll be at his office late to do the closing now. I had only called him because I was panicked and I needed to know that we could still close. I would have called for an Uber, or figured out something, but instead he offered to get me, no hesitation.
Maybe I’ve been too hard on him, so preoccupied with my hang ups with men and my own past, that I”ve been judging him too harshly. Sure, he’s arrogant and presumptuous and makes me so uncomfortable that I have to fight myself to stay calm around him. But he also makes me feel alive.
For the first time since everything started going bad with Trevor, I feel a spark of excitement coursing through me.
Everything concerning Emmett is too confusing. Maybe trying to keep a distance is the best thing for my sanity.
Or maybe not.
I’d been beside myself last night when I’d seen Riley texting Jeremy the Hot Grocery Guy. Who the fuck was he?
I still haven’t figured out who Trevor is, and I don’t like all these men stacking up around her.
The woman is a goddamn walking contradiction. Crying out another man’s name in her sleep, almost coming on my hand, then turning around and making plans to meet up with another man saved in her phone as ‘hot’. She’s so meek and timid in person, there’s no way she’s messing around with multiple men at once. I refuse to believe it.
Not that it would be a problem I couldn’t fix.
She’ll learn she belongs to me now, and it’s a lesson I”m looking forward to giving.
When she called earlier, I was still feeling that dark urge in me to stake my claim, whether she wanted it or not. But when I heard the panic in her voice on the other end of the line, it shifted something in me.
Gone was that need to dominate. That need to own. Instead, it was replaced with an intense need to fix whatever was wrong. To wipe the panic from her voice at whatever cost.
She was upset, and that just wasn’t acceptable. I would be the only reason for her breaths to be ragged. I would be the only reason for fear in her voice. Every emotion, every fear, every worry… It was mine. Mine to give. And mine to fix.
I was already getting into my car by the time she explained what was going on. I’d been tracking her location on the app and saw she was at a standstill on the freeway. I had just assumed she was stuck in traffic, not that her car had broken down.
It wasn’t surprising, though. From the way it sounded yesterday, that thing was on its last leg. It was only a matter of time until it broke down. When she sent me her location, I was already out of the parking lot.
She was worried about her closing, that much was obvious, but she has nothing to worry about. Tracy signed all the closing documents this morning, Blake’s shell company becoming the official owner of the property. This whole closing we’re doing this afternoon is just a show for Riley’s benefit, with Blake’s assistant playing the role of the escrow agent overseeing the closing. All the paperwork she’s signed up until this point has been fake, and those closing documents she’ll be signing later? Probably getting tossed into the shredder as soon as she walks out of the office.
But she doesn’t know any of that, and I’m not going to tell her. Tracy’s secret is safe with me. It gives me additional leverage over her, in addition to the favor of helping with the walk-through and closing.
The fact that Riley had sounded about two seconds away from having a panic attack over the closing was just additional confirmation of how important this is for her, and how critical it is for Tracy”s secret to stay buried. It would shatter Riley if she knew what was actually going on.
Easing my car onto the freeway, I glance at my phone to see Riley’s exact location just a few miles up. I slow as I get close, eyeing the side of the road and seeing her just up ahead.
I let out a sigh of frustration when I notice that she doesn’t even have her hazards on. She’s too damn reckless with her safety. Then again, her battery could very well be dead at this point.
I pull up behind Riley’s car on the shoulder and park. Throwing on my own hazard lights, I get out, hating all this traffic flying by so close to her parked vehicle. All it would take is someone being distracted for a second to hit her car. Or worse, hit her while she’s outside of it.
Walking over to the passenger side of her vehicle, I knock on the window and she jumps, looking up from her phone to see who I am. She throws her phone into her purse and grabs her door handle just as I open the passenger door.
“Wait,” I say, stopping her before she can open the door. “Slide over and get out on this side so someone doesn’t take your door off.”
She listens, scooting over the center console and out the passenger side. I close the door and turn back to her, not expecting it when she throws her arms around me in a quick hug. She pulls away before I even have time to grab her back.
“Thanks.” She says it so quietly, I barely hear her over the traffic buzzing by. “For coming to get me and making sure we can still close today.”
I give her a nod, not sure what to make of her sudden change in disposition toward me. We walk back to my car in silence, and I pull back into traffic, exiting at the next off ramp to turn back toward the brokerage.
When I steal a glance at her in my passenger seat, she’s staring out the window, her fingers absentmindedly playing with the bottom hem of her sweater. She’s wearing black leggings today, and I can’t help but be reminded of the last time I saw her in leggings, sweaty and flushed on her living room floor.
I trail my gaze up to her face and notice she’s not wearing any makeup today. And fuck if she still isn’t the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Even dressed casually with her hair pulled up like she is now, she’s so damn sexy. She doesn’t even have to try.
I grip the steering wheel tighter with my left hand and reach over with my right, resting it on her upper thigh. When she doesn’t flinch or pull away, I give it a little squeeze.
We drive the entire way back like that: not saying anything, my hand on her thigh. It’s surprisingly intimate, and I can’t say I’m all that upset about it.
As I pull into the parking lot and find a place to park, I take one more glance at her before turning off the car and removing my hand from her. When she looks over at me with a small smile on her face and an eagerness in her eyes, my chest tightens with a feeling I’m not used to.
But I don’t take the time to figure out what it is, instead pushing it down and ignoring it.