CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE Joshua
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Joshua
I ’m standing outside Emily’s house, checking the time on my watch for the third—or is it fourth?—time in the last five minutes. I told her to meet me in twenty minutes, but it’s been thirty, and she’s still not out.
I hear the gate swing open, and I look up, ready to make a teasing remark about her tardiness. But when she comes into view… whoa .
I’ve called Emily beautiful more times than I can remember, but tonight…tonight, she’s breathtaking. She stands there in that dress, as beautiful as she said she would be, and it’s as if the world has paused just to admire her. The fabric hugs her perfectly, like a second skin that accentuates every graceful line of her body. It molds to every curve before cascading just below her knees, swaying gently with each step.
The neckline plunges in a V, the delicate knot at her neck sending soft drapes down her back. And when she turns, half of her back is revealed, leaving her rose tattoo peeking out. It’s teasing, like a secret she’s not quite ready to share, but it pulls me in, making me wonder, for the hundredth time, just how low it goes.
Her hair cascades in soft, effortless waves that catch the light, framing her face and adding to her radiant glow. Her makeup is subtle, except for her lips—bold and crimson, matching her dress perfectly.
I’m struggling to keep it together, but all I want, all I can think about, is leaning in and kissing her senseless, smudging that red lipstick until there’s nothing left. All I want is to take the little scarf off, leaving her bare from the shoulders up. Then, maybe I can unzip the red dress and watch the silky fabric fall down to her feet. And— no. Stop.
But stopping feels impossible because, damn it, Emily has never looked this good, and I’ve never wanted her more.
“I was expecting at least a ‘wow’,” she says, snapping me back to reality.
“You got something better,” I reply with a grin, “You got me speechless.”
She smiles, and her red lips stretch to show her perfect teeth. “You’re not too bad yourself,” she says, tugging lightly on my tie.
I adjust my tie, feeling a little self-conscious in my decent suit. As I offer Emily my arm, she loops hers around it, and I can’t help but feel a thrill at the connection. Thankfully, we manage to avoid any prying eyes from the village. Otherwise, we’d have to explain why we’re sneaking off on a date the night before such an important occasion.
“Where are we going?” Emily says as she steps into the car.
“You’ll see,” I say, closing the door after her.
I drive through the streets of Manila, the lights on the signs still flickering brightly.
The car pulls up to a street lined with trees, and I park near the only building in the vicinity. “We’re here,” I announce, stepping out and offering her my hand. She takes it, and together we enter the building.
“Fancy,” she says.
“Told you, only the best tonight,” I reply.
We make our way up to the rooftop, where a warm breeze meets our faces, and the sound of a saxophone drifts through the air, weaving its way into our surroundings. I push the door open, and the scene before us unfolds. Twinkling lights hang like stars above the intimate rooftop space, light reflecting on the patrons enjoying their drinks and the smooth tunes.
“Oh, wow,” Emily whispers. “How did you know about this?”
“I have my ways,” I say with a sly grin, but her skeptical look makes me laugh. “Fine. Yelp. It was on Yelp.” Thankfully, she doesn’t question it anymore. Because, if she did, she would’ve known that I started scouting for places nights ago, right after we talked about me taking her out.
We’re shown to a table near the edge of the rooftop, offering an unobstructed view of the city below. As we settle into our seats, I notice a few patrons glancing our way. Emily, ever perceptive, catches on quickly.
“Is there something on my face?” Emily leans in. I shake my head, looking at her perfect features inches away from me.
“Are you sure?” she adds. “Maybe something on my teeth?” She flashes her teeth. Again, I shake my head. “Then why are people staring? Can you check again?” She looks to her left and her right, giving me access to her entire face.
“There’s nothing on your face, Em,” I say, very slightly putting my fingers on her chin. I lean in, and we’re closer than ever. “Except that it’s so damn beautiful, people need to look at least twice.” I didn’t mean to say it like that, like I’m so mesmerized, but it’s true. She is so beautiful. Even I can’t look away.
She blinks, clearly caught off guard. Then, she scoffs, backing away with a playful smile. “Stop that,” she says, trying to shake off the tension, but I can see the faint blush coloring her cheeks.
“Stop what?” I grin, satisfied.
“That!” she points dramatically at my face, her eyes narrowing. “The seductive grins, the expert winks, and the master-level flirting! A girl can only take so much, Joshua,” she says, placing a hand over her heart as if genuinely overwhelmed.
I lean back in my seat, smiling as I cross my arms. “I’ll stop if you stop,” I say.
“What in the world am I supposed to stop?” She raises an eyebrow.
“Talking like that,” I start. When she looks confused, I add, “And smiling like that. And looking like that,” I say. “I’m also only human after all.”
Our food arrives, a hearty plate of steak and potatoes for both of us. Emily chuckles, biting her lip to stop from smiling too much. It’s adorable, really. Emily sighs, and then says, “What are we doing?”
I know exactly what she means. What are we doing? We’re supposed to be pretending to be a couple in front of everyone else, not sneaking off on dates alone, not sitting here flirting like there’s nothing holding us back. The rules were simple—No feelings, no messy attachments, no kissing, temporary. We already broke the no kissing rule, and we’re bordering on the other ones.
I glance at her, and something stirs in my chest. She puts a piece of steak into her mouth, and looks at me. I hold her gaze as I say, “We’re two people who are attracted to each other.” Her eyes widen slightly, but a smile tugs at the corners of her lips as she looks down at her hands, fidgeting with the napkin. “It’s not our fault we’re so good-looking,” I add lightly. She chuckles, but she doesn’t deny it. She doesn’t even try. And I’m left wondering whether that’s a good thing or a bad thing.
“But we won’t act on it,” she says.
I nod slowly and continue, though my voice isn’t as steady as I want it to be. “So, we’re just... playfully flirting, harmlessly yearning, and enjoying each other’s company until we go our separate ways in five days.” I say it like it’s a fact, but the words feel like they’re cracking apart as soon as they leave my mouth. My heart’s pounding harder than it should be.
For a moment, I forget. I forget why we won’t act on it. I forget why I can’t just lean in and kiss her. Why I can’t just feel for her and take her in my arms and spend every single day with her. Then, as my mind clears, I remember. We both don’t truly want it. If we act on this, we’ll ruin the only chance we can have at keeping each other around—friendship.
Emily raises her glass of iced tea and says, “Here’s to enjoying our last five days together.”
I grin at her and say, “You’re gonna have the best five days of your life.” She rolls her eyes but laughs, tipping her glass back and chugging her drink like she’s trying to drown whatever she’s feeling. But I see it, the same flicker of uncertainty in her eyes that I’m feeling too.
We spend the rest of dinner talking about every random thing in the world. Talking to Emily is as easy as admiring her. There’s no pressure to censor myself, no need to second-guess my words or worry about coming off as arrogant. Because we both know what this is, and we’re just enjoying each other’s company.
And I’d like to believe that she’s a bit less uptight around me, too. I can see it in the way she leans back and laughs effortlessly. I know she has a lot going on. I overheard her call with the property owner earlier. I also know she supports her family by herself. And I know she lost her career in New York. I know so much about her. And all I want to do is help her in any way I can.
If she doesn’t want to confide in me about her problems, then the least I can do is help her forget them, if only for a little while. I want to create a space where she can let her guard down.
After dinner, we head back home. Neither of us wanted to stay out too late. Emily sits beside me in the car, now wrapped in my coat, her arms tucked snugly inside the sleeves that are too long for her. The evening chill seems to cling to her more than it does to me. While she’s bundled up, I feel nothing but smoldering heat coursing through me, a product of the night and her company.
I yank off my tie and roll up my sleeves, feeling the relief of letting the fabric loosen around my skin. I catch Emily looking at me, her eyes tracing the lines of my forearms as I push my sleeves past my elbows. I glance over and catch her staring.
“What?” I say, the smirk playing on my lips impossible to hide.
She raises an eyebrow and leans back against her seat, her head tilted ever so slightly, amusement dancing in her eyes. “Don’t act like you don’t know that’s attractive,” she replies, voice a little lower than usual, teasing yet almost serious.
“What is?” I ask, fully playing along. “This?” I stretch out my arm toward her, the tattoos along my forearm standing out under the dim car lights. Her gaze follows the ink as I slowly flex my fingers, and I can’t help the smile that tugs at my lips.
Her eyes flicker to mine, and she bites her lip, suppressing a grin. “Yes, that,” she says. “The whole rolling-up-your-sleeves thing, and the tie—don’t play dumb.”
I chuckle as I wrap my hand around the steering wheel, enjoying this.
“And that!” she shrieks, her laughter lighting up the air between us. I shake my head in amusement, both charmed and flattered. We pull into the driveway, and I start parking the car, putting my other hand behind her headrest for added support.
“Ugh, and that,” Emily says, a hint of exasperation in her tone as she looks at me while I back up.
“Emily, at this point, I’m just bound to believe you’re obsessed with me.” I throw in a dramatic sigh for effect.
She rolls her eyes but can’t hide her smile.
“Don’t worry,” I say, pulling up to a stop. I don’t move my hand from the headrest, but instead, I look at her eyes, lean closer, and say, “I’m a million times more obsessed with you.”
Emily raises an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Oh, I know,” she replies, her tone playful yet full of confidence.
We sit there, locked in the unspoken tension between us, our breaths syncing in the stillness of the car. I can feel my heart pounding, and when I glance at Emily, her eyes catch mine, the intensity of her gaze pulling me in deeper.
Without thinking, I lean in just slightly, enough to close the distance between us, my breath hitching as I move closer. Her lips are so near now, and for one heartbeat, everything goes still. I can almost feel the heat of her skin.
But then, just as my lips are about to meet hers, Emily shifts back, breaking the moment. She pulls away just enough to clear the air, and I’m left suspended in the tension.
“Good night, you charmer,” she says, her tone warm and teasing, though there's something almost reluctant in it.
I let out a soft laugh, my chest tightening with something I can’t quite place. I hold her gaze for just a beat longer, savoring the weight of her smile, before she slips out of the car, leaving me with the lingering echo of her presence.
We talked about it tonight—cleared the air, set the boundaries. Just attraction and playful flirting. And we won’t act on it.
I should be content. Relieved, even. But why does the pit in my stomach only grow deeper the longer I think about it?