Chapter 6 - Emma
August looks incredibly sexy at his desk. There's something about a big man sitting on a desk that sends shivers down my spine. When I saw the savage way he devoured those muffins, I got jealous. I can't get the thought of him putting his mouth on my breasts out of my mind, it made me immediately wet. How can a man look so good eating muffins and sitting behind a desk? It should be a crime, really.
I shouldn't want him this much but it's not like anyone will know if I seduce him, right? He isn't looking for a relationship and all I want is to get this out of my system.
There's something in his eyes as he raises them to see me come in. It's something soft, mellow, and it disappears as quickly as it arrived. I wish I knew what it meant. Does he feel this electricity between us?
"Clarissa told me your invoices are always a mess." It's the first thing I say, hoping it'll make him frown, which it does. I bite down a smile.
"She did?"
I nod.
"None of us like to do this. If any of them did, I'd delegate it immediately."
"Let me help you, I separated all the receipts from your suppliers last night. I have a few ideas on how to make the process work best for you. If you don't have a process, you'll be buried again in paperwork in a few days' time."
I grab one of the chairs and sit next to August. I bump my left knee into his thigh. "Sorry."
He shakes his head, and it's almost like he isn't here for a moment, then he comes back. We work for a few hours, going back and forth with invoices, quotes, receipts, me asking what a specific thing means, August asking me why I organized the things the way I did, it's nice to work with him like this. He is a bit awkward, but he doesn't make me feel I should know what any of that stuff means, I might be good at organizing but I'm not an accountant. Eventually, August slides slightly back from the desk and sinks into his chair, slightly relaxing. We've made amazing progress, pretty much all of it has been done and we have worked out a system that will work for everyone who works at the garage. "You are good at this."
"Good at what?"
"Paperwork, organizing things."
"Well, pretty much everyone is. It's not that big of a deal."
He turns to face me and I feel incredibly close to him.
"Why are you saying that? It is a big deal. It's an incredible skill to have."
"Skills like that don't give you jobs."
I struggled in college, struggled to find the right major for me and when it was time to get a job, I struggled to figure out what kind of jobs I wanted to apply for. Eventually I landed on something but I have been hopping between jobs ever since then. Being this clueless about my job was not a problem I foresaw having at this age. Everyone around me already has stable jobs and most of them also are either starting to get pregnant or already have kids. I don't have any of that, I'm not even sure if I want kids. And living here in Hope Peak, my small town and the place that I love, only shows me how far I am from the average person here. It's grueling sometimes. It shouldn't matter this much but I'm still feeling a bit mentally worn out after last night.
"I bet if you went around town asking people if they needed your help, you'd be surprised how many people would take it." His face is stern but there's kindness in it.
"You think?"
"I'm sure. I’ve helped Mae from Peak Produce with her orders and I'm not even half as competent as you are." He sighs. "People never really tell you that running a garage is not just fixing cars. Luckily, I know enough to get by but as you see, it's still a mess. Every Friday I'm in here trying to do it all. So you saying it's not that big of a deal? That's bullshit."
I pull back feeling the weight behind his words, a wake-up call. I’ve been trying to find jobs that would accept me based on my major and my hardworking capabilities but I never tried to find a job that would suit me and my personality. Perhaps I've been wrong all along, maybe if I try to do it the other way around I can finally trace my own path instead of following everyone else's.
I don't know how long I've been going over what he said and organizing my thoughts but he interrupts them. "Sorry, I'm too blunt sometimes."
"No, not at all. You've given me a lot to think about. I was laid off recently, and it feels like the perfect time to give this a go."
"Want to start here? A few hours a week, just for you to see if you like it."
His eyes widen almost like he is surprised by his invite. My surprise matches his but there's also gratitude for him, to make me realize I can do something else, to give me the opportunity to be more, to let me do this experiment. It might not be right for me, but it's a step in another direction, one that doesn't seem as strenuous as every other step I've taken lately.
"That would be great. We could do a trial for one month."
"Sure."
I need to say something. Otherwise I'll explode.
"You don't let people get to know you, do you?"
"Everyone avoids speaking with you because you're always grumpy and abrupt but you have been nothing but kind to me. You came to pick me up yesterday, you're offering me a job today. I have a lot to thank you for."
"It's nothing. I told you."
"It's not nothing. I was wrecked last night, feeling like a failure for being stood up like that."
His jaw ticks and I feel his anger bubbling up. It makes me want to get closer to him, feeling his protectiveness. It's enough to send a soothing feeling to my chest. I don't resist the urge and I get close enough to smell him. Who cares about all the reasons why we shouldn't be together? I want one day from him, nothing more. All I need is to soothe this aching need that pulls me towards him.
"Would you have stood me up?"
"Absolutely not." He swallows, feeling cornered. But I don't want to stop. I want him to look at me like the woman I am. Not his best friend's daughter. Not some girl he had to rescue because she didn't get a date on Valentine's Day. Not the person he's hiring to help with his paperwork. "What are you doing, Emma?"
"What do you think I'm doing?" I get closer until there's just an inch separating us.
"This is wrong."
"Why?"
"I'm way too old for you. And like I told you, I'm not into relationships."
I see how nervous he is. And I can't get enough of it. In fact, I'm intoxicated by it. I want him.
"Who said anything about a relationship?"
He betrays himself by glancing at my lips and I know. I know he wants this as much as I do. This is just one day, it's not even Valentine's like yesterday. It doesn't need to be serious even if my heart aches more for this man than for any man I ever been with. Or maybe some of yesterday’s vulnerability it’s still clinging on to me. But I don't need to over analyze this. We can just be two adults who enjoy themselves. Nothing more.
His eyes drop once again to my lips and I have to bite down my smile before I close the distance between us and reach for his lips. He seems surprised by my boldness so at first, he doesn't do anything but our lips are touching and I encourage him, show him that this is okay. That I want this. That I want him. And then he responds, and… this kiss… it's everything. He doesn't push me, it's gentle, and it's kind, none of his grumpiness and shyness is there while he takes my lips and savors them. That's what it seems he's doing, savoring every single tiny square inch of my lips while my body craves more. I try to open up for him but he doesn't let me, covering my lips and closing my mouth. It’s funny, instead of disappointment, it generates excitement, a warm feeling in my lower belly, accumulating wetness in preparation for him. It's madness how he's making me feel with just a kiss, so gentle it’s as if he’s afraid I might break.
But before I assure him that it's impossible for him to break me, he stops. My lips feel both numb and incredibly sensitive with his absence, I need more, so much more.
He gasps for air like he has been underwater. "This cannot happen again."
"Why? I can see you want me."
"That doesn't give me a reason to. This was a mistake."
It’s so final, the way he said it was a mistake. Like he’s built a wall between us in an instant, solid and impenetrable. I take a step back, vulnerability washing over me as his words hit harder than I expected. Maybe I just wanted someone to want me after last night—someone who made me feel perfect, like August did. But it’s more than that. I can’t stop thinking about him, craving his touch, and now I’ve gone and done something impulsive like kissing him. And the worst part? I know he’s not ready for this. Not ready for me.