Chapter 44
Tristen
My emotions are swirling around in a blender when the dinner bell—well, breakfast in this case—rings and makes both of us jolt.
Emmett’s eyes flare wide, his grip on my hips tightening.
Fuck, I like that.
“It’s okay, bub.” While this bell is not nearly as obnoxious as the tone, it’s still, well, obnoxious. “It’s just the dinner bell.”
The drop of his shoulders from his ears makes my chest tight.
I gotta get him home.
Releasing his chin, I toss him a smile and step back.
“You don’t have to come down,” I murmur finally after throwing a shirt on. I don’t know who it belongs to but it’s almost a size too small and hits right above my waistband, the sleeves showing the stark difference between my untanned skin and the burns coating me.
They aren’t the worst ones I’ve had, but damn do I need some aloe.
And a shower.
I still smell like smoke.
Heading to the stairs with every intention of leaving Em up here in the quiet so I can bring him back a plate, I pause when he whispers something.
“What?”
“Wait.”
When I glance over my shoulder, he lifts his chin.
The request goes unspoken, and if you asked me how the fuck I know what it is he wants, I wouldn’t be able to answer.
But with my lips curled and my heart stuttering behind my aching ribs, I walk back to him.
He’s already lifting up when I get closer, his lips half puckered and shiny like he licked them.
My dick jumps back to life.
I cup his face gently to slow myself down and ask, “Okay?”
His nod has me dipping and pressing my lips to his. It’s firm, the pressure, but no less desperate than the other kisses we’ve shared.
I pull back before I want to and run my nose down the side of his.
He shivers.
“I’ll be right back.”
There’s a long pause where his fingers are wrapped around my wrists and his breath is washing over my face before he finally flicks his gaze to mine.
“I’ll come, too.”
The words tick at a different part of my brain, and my dick jumps again.
Fuck, I need a minute.
But when Emmett pushes me back and stands, it looks like the minute has come and gone already.
I clear my throat, and he pulls up his hood, turning his back to me for the stairs.
The reprieve might be the only one I get, so I shove my hand inside my shorts, tease myself with a firm grip, then adjust and follow Emmett out into the Wild West of the firehouse at dawn with a ragged breath.
“Thing Two! You didn’t die!”
“I thought I was Thing Three?” I grumble and stand a little taller when Emmett slinks in behind me, his covered fists pressed against my lower back with how close he is.
“Same difference, bro,” Declan says on a grin and knuckles my shoulder as he passes with an already full plate.
I hide my wince.
“Nice shirt.”
It comes from somewhere behind me and I immediately recognize it as Emmett and I step up to the short line for food.
“I got it from the thrift store,” I quip back though it’s not even mine, and glance over my shoulder and Emmett’s head to lock eyes with Farrin. He walks past Em, settling in beside me like he doesn’t have a care in the world.
“Can you even read it?” he huffs out with a raise to his pierced brow and a cocky smirk.
I look down at the squiggly print, letters strewn across the chest like vines … or maybe lightning? I’m not sure, but I sure as shit cannot read it.
“It’s … uh. Um.”
Farrin snorts and reaches around me with a plate.
I snatch it out of his grip.
“It says Symbiotic, and that was for him.” He snatches the plate back and reaches around me again. “Steal my shirt, and be a dick? Psht.”
I growl.
“Tristen, I’m hungry.” Twisting around, my sight drops to Em’s furrowed brow and thinned lips. “So can you stop your pissing contest?”
A loud laugh sound sputters out of me, making my chest twinge, and steals my breath.
His eye twitches.
“Oh, I like him,” someone calls out, and Emmett’s face goes beet red.
“Too bad,” I answer without breaking eye contact with him. “I already licked him.”
He goes even redder and shrinks back into his hood with darting eyes and covered hands, his plate hugged to his chest like a shield.
“Tristennnn …” he hisses quietly, and I grin, then smack a noisy kiss to his covered temple.
“That’s cute and all, but are you gonna feed him? The rest of us would like to eat today.” I snort at Farrin’s even tone and step back, so Emmett has some room to see what’s available.
He dumps half a scoop of eggs on his plate and all but runs to the corner where Mumford chills on one of the couches.
Loading up my plate with extras, I kick the leg of Declan’s chair as I pass and settle in next to Emmett. He’s just staring at his eggs, no fork to be seen, and refusing to make eye contact.
“Hey,” I whisper and brush his shoulder with mine, a fork held up for him to take. “Okay?”
He’s slow to reach for the utensil, his fingers trembling when he does.
“Y-yeah.”
My jaw grits at the shake in his answer. “Emmett.”
A side eye is what I get in return, and a little bit of my chest loosens.
“Don’t ever lie about it.”
There’s a slight nod from the depths of his hood, one I only slightly believe, and he stabs at the eggs until it’s broken up into a bunch of little pieces.
But then he surprises the fuck out of me and scoops up a full bite.
It only takes two of those to finish what he had.
When he makes no move to get more, I tip my plate over his and dump half my food onto the ceramic in his grip. It tilts a little since he’s not expected the added weight, but he recovers it, then glowers over at me.
“Why did you do that?”
“You didn’t get enough.”
He huffs, then pokes around before finally taking another bite.
My lips tip up at the corner on the outside, but on the inside? I’m fist pumping like a fool.
“Oh,” I finally mumble around a mouthful. “That’s Mumford, by the way.”
“I know,” Emmett says when I point to the lump of sleeping human on the second couch.
“The guy whose shirt I apparently stole is Farrin.” I point at the buzz cut sitting at the table with the others.
“Uh-huh.”
“And then Declan—”
“Yes, I know.” I narrow my eyes at him for a long beat before he finally shrugs.
When the rest of the crew all glance at each other, smirks and lifted brows abound, it clicks.
“Hatley.”
“Hatley,” they all affirm in unison, and I snicker because of course my best friend showed Emmett who was here before he left. Of course he didn’t leave Emmett hanging without me, alone and nervous.
It’s what I was planning to do.
I’m gonna hug him next time I see him.