Chapter 22
I’d been stuck in my head, trying to figure out how to talk to Emily about what had happened, so I wasn’t very talkative on the ride home. But I needed to talk to her because I’d felt the pull between us when our eyes locked, and there was no denying the spark I felt every time I touched her. But we couldn’t act on it.
Much to my surprise, Ashley didn’t give me a hard time when I asked for a second to talk to Emily.
I still wasn’t sure what I wanted to say, because my emotions were all over the place, making me feel like an awkward teenager. I wanted to put Emily at ease. But I couldn’t even put myself at ease. It didn’t matter, I couldn’t leave without explaining why I was acting so strangely.
From the moment she fell into me, I knew it was stupid to keep denying my attraction to her. It felt good, right, to hold her in my arms. But it was a bad idea, possibly even a dangerous one, to get involved with her while she was also a client. And Emily wasn’t just a client, she was my best friend’s little sister. She was doubly forbidden so I couldn’t pursue a relationship with her despite my attraction, at least not yet, and I needed her to understand that.
But when I looked into her eyes, I lost my nerve. She looked worried, and I couldn’t bring myself toadd more stress to her life.
Instead I asked how she was and immediately regretted it when she said fine, because no woman who said she was fine was ever actually fine.
I was being a total chicken-shit. I wanted to tell her our friends weren’t wrong in thinking I was attracted to her, but that seemed like a lot to dump on her. She didn’t need to be burdened with my feelings for her when I couldn’t act on them. Besides she’s probably not ready. If I said anything, things would end up being awkward between us and I didn’t want that to happen.
But then she tried to apologize. For acting out of line. And I couldn’t let that happen.
So I manned up and explained how I felt, and why we couldn’t be together. But judging from the expression on Emily’s face, I’d fucked it all up.
Was I always this bad with women? Then I remembered I hadn’t so much as flirted with anyone except Isabelle since my sophomore year of high school. And dating at sixteen hadn’t been nearly this complicated.
After Emily and Ashley were inside, I walked over and talked to Sammie, asking her to call me if she saw them leave the house. “Even if they’re just hanging out in the yard.”
“Copy that. Expecting trouble?” She asked. Samantha was one of our part-time security staff. Like the others, she was a local cop; we’d worked together for a couple of years before I left the department. She was a good cop, as tough as they come, and luckily for us she was single and used to working the night shift, so she picked up her fair share of our overnight jobs.
“Always. But that’s not why I’m asking. They plan on drinking tonight and they tend to get a little,” I paused, looking for the right word, “adventurous when they’re drunk.”
She gave me a knowing nod. “Good times.”
“Yeah. Thanks Sammie. Stay safe.”
“Thanks boss man, you too.”
I didn’t want to leave, not because I didn’t trust Sammie, because I did, but because I didn’t like how I’d left things with Emily.