When I Was Theirs

67. Emmy

67

Emmy

“ Y ou did that on purpose.” Jared is grinning, but there’s a glint in his eye that has my stomach doing somersaults. “Admit it.”

Lifting my chin in the air, I march toward the market vendors lining the pier. Brightly colored bulbs sway over our heads, strung between poles in a zig-zag pattern. It’s late, but the advert I saw said they were open until eleven. “I will do no such thing.”

I hover my hand over the first display, assessing the little rows of statues. But I’m not paying attention, deeply aware of Jared standing close behind me. He props his chin on my shoulder, and I shiver. “You hated the film too.”

“It had good reviews,” I defend weakly.

“Where?” He’s laughing at me as he reaches past and picks up a figurine. “I like this one.”

The horse has ridiculously large teeth, and oversized ears. “I feel like he’s too cute.”

“Tough.” He reaches into his pocket for his wallet. “I’m adding to the collection of unwanted things.”

“But you want him.” I roll my eyes. “That’s defeating the point.”

“You love Geraldine,” he points out.

I really do. And so does he, deep down.

Deep, deep down.

“Anyway.” Jared chases after me as I keep walking. The weather is turning milder, spring a cool breeze in the air. “As I was saying. The only reason you chose that film is so you could lean over and say that in my ear. I nearly choked on my popcorn.”

“You misheard me.” I bite down on my cheek to stop myself smiling. “I asked if it was a book you’d read.”

“You told me you’d rather be in bed . I’m not Angelo, you know. My hearing works just fine.”

I start laughing properly. “So does his. He just pretends not to hear you.”

What is that?

My arm jerks out, smacking into Jared’s stomach. He grunts. “Ow.”

“Sorry.” But I’m wholly, entirely distracted. Entranced.

He follows my gaze. “Emmy. No .”

“But look at her,” I breathe. “She’s beautiful.”

“That’s really not the point. You literally just said that.”

“But you have to admit, there’s no way in hell anybody else is taking her home.” Grabbing Jared’s hand, I drag him forward.

The painting is nothing short of grotesque. The paper-maché woman is half crawling out of it, her features painted on and distorted.

“Are you hiding?” I grab his arm and pull him around to have a proper look. “We have to have her!”

“I’m trying not to make eye contact,” he mutters. “She makes Geraldine look like a princess.”

People around me are staring.

“If you help me carry her home,” I say teasingly. “She could be friends with Geraldine.”

“Great. You do realize that we’re going to be that freaky house in the neighborhood that none of the kids want to visit on Halloween. Including our own.”

“More candy for us.” My smile grows at his casual words. “But any we do get; I’m answering the door with her in front of me.”

Mean, but absolutely hilarious. “We’ll actually be the coolest house in the street, really.”

I reach for my purse, but Jared bats my hands out of the way. “I want the brownie points with Geraldine. I feel like we’re building up a good relationship.”

The painting is also big enough that we have to carry a corner each. I drink in the sight of Jared’s arms, his green shirt pushed up as he walks in front of me.

“You know,” I say airily. “If we were past the kissing stage, I’d be very, very appreciative of this lovely painting. In bed. Naked.”

He nearly drops the painting. “Jesus, Emmy.”

I bite my lip. “Sorry?”

He sighs. “No, you’re not.”

I’m really not.

After two months of being with Jared every day, but not being with him, I’m starting to feel slightly desperate. Teasing him is becoming my own favorite kind of foreplay. “No kissing tonight, then?”

I may ask that question a lot. He shakes his head.

Abandoning the topic for the time being, I land on a different one. “Are you going to take the studio Angelo offered?”

“You think I should?”

“Your own teaching studio?” I lift the painting higher, puffing slightly. “Yes, I think you should take it. You need the space.”

“Maybe.” He sounds uncertain. “I could run group lessons then, not travel around so much. You wouldn’t mind me taking it? Me being upstairs, you being down?”

“You’re there all the time anyway,” I point out. “Angelo told me you helped him set up his new laptop the other day.”

“He offered me a croissant as payment.”

“Damn. He must actually like you.”

“He’d already taken a bite out of it.”

We turn the corner leading to my apartment. “I wouldn’t mind, Jared. If it means something good for you, of course I wouldn’t.”

I wouldn’t mind at all.