Chapter Twelve
Kade
The door to my office slams open with a force that makes me glance up from the documents cluttering my typically-neat desk.
Alex strides in, his expression a mix of concern and confusion that I know all too well. Well, I guess this also isn’t the time to talk to him about the troubling news I’ve uncovered.
“Kade, what the hell happened with Emma?” His voice is angry, almost accusing, as he plants his hands on my desk, leaning forward in a dominating, threatening posture I don’t appreciate. But I’ll let it go, this time.
I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I don”t know.” Except, maybe I do. I drop my hand and meet his gaze squarely. “She”s probably pissed we hooked up her place with that security system without telling her.”
Alex frowns, clearly not getting why that’s a potential problem. How does he manage to get dressed in the morning? “But we”re just trying to look out for her. To keep her safe.”
“Try explaining that to a fiercely independent woman.” I lean back in my chair, feeling the weight of the situation settle on my shoulders, even though I’d just gone along with Alex’s plan in the first place. This is why I’m not a yes man. The last thing I want is Emma thinking I”m some controlling jerk, but it may be too late for that.
“Right,” he says, his shoulders drooping as he exhales sharply. He runs a hand through his hair. “I”ll talk to her.”
“Good luck,” I say, as I consider making a joke about it being his funeral, but my attention is already back on work, then on Emma.
The evening air is cool and brings relief after a day spent in a stuffy office. But the moment I step onto my front porch, something feels off, and the hairs on the back of my neck prickle.
And then I see why. I’m not alone. “Stella.”
There she is, standing there like no time has passed. Her red hair seems brighter than I remember, those familiar blue eyes peering into mine with a vulnerability that makes my heart do a strange little dance. A dance I thought it had forgotten.
“Kade.” She greets me with an unsure smile that instantly begins to fade as if she’s on the verge of tears. The freckles that dance across her nose leave her looking just like she did a decade ago.
“Stella...what are you doing here?” My voice is steadier than I feel. This isn”t how I expected my day to end. Then again, nothing about today has gone according to plan.
“Can we talk?” Her voice is soft, a gentle sound that tugs at something inside me I thought I”d lost a long time ago.
“Sure,” I say, unlocking the door, swinging it open, and stepping aside to let her in. It”s Stella, after all.
But as we sit across from each other on my couch, it”s clear that while the past might be knocking, my mind—and my heart—are occupied with a woman who drives me crazy in every possible way.
”Kade?” Stella says, her eyes locked onto mine, searching for... something. I don’t know what.
“Sorry,” I shake my head, trying to refocus. “I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
She nods, understanding flickering in her gaze. She always was intuitive. But why is she here, walking back into my life a decade later as if she never left?
Deciding to take charge of the meeting, I stand and make my way to the bar. The clink of ice against glass rings out like gunshots as I pour two fingers of whiskey into tumblers. Stella”s presence in my apartment feels... wrong.
Walking back to her, I hand her the drink. Our fingers brush momentarily, and the contact sends an unexpected jolt through me. “What brings you back to town?”
She accepts the tumbler, her fingers cool and familiar around the glass. A sweet smile plays at her lips, and she takes a slow sip before answering. “Life has taken a few turns since we last saw each other.” She pauses, and when she continues, her voice is quieter, tinged with something that might be regret. “I... got divorced.” She swallows hard, refusing to meet my gaze. “I’ve been thinking a lot about... us.”
I nod, settling into the armchair across from her. “I’m sorry to hear about your divorce.” It”s the truth, but it”s also a deflection from what I worry is coming. If she’s here to try and rekindle-
“Thanks,” she says, gazing down at the amber liquid as if it holds answers and swirling the alcohol around the glass in an expert move I don’t recognize from her. “But really, Kade, I came here for you.”
She looks up, meeting my gaze. Her eyes search my face, my eyes, my easy posture, as if looking for something. I take a long drink, buying time, because every fiber of my being is strung tight—not with longing for Stella, but with worry over Emma.
“Kade?” Her voice pulls me back, and I realize I”ve drifted off again.
“My mind is elsewhere,” I say.
“On Emma?” Her question is so quiet I nearly miss the words.
I nod and set my tumbler down with more force than necessary. My jaw clenches as I recall Emma’s anger—the fierce independence in her sky-blue eyes that clashes so beautifully with her soft features.
“Sounds complicated,” Stella says after a beat. There”s no mistaking the hurt in her voice, even as she masks it quickly with another sip of her drink.
“Complicated doesn”t begin to cover it.” My laugh is short, humorless. “I”m worried about her safety, and she”s furious at the notion of being protected.”
“Ah, the hero complex. I was worried you’d changed into someone I wouldn’t recognize.” Stella is teasing me, but there”s a shadow in her gaze that wasn”t there before.
“The more things change, I guess.”
“Hey,” she says gently, reaching out to touch my hand before pulling back, as if remembering herself. “You don”t have to explain. I get it.”
But does she, really?
“Thanks.” My gratitude is genuine, but my heart just isn”t in this reunion. It’s in an apartment with a freshly-installed security system with a woman who likely wishes bodily harm on me right now.
A few quiet moments pass, then Stella”s fingers glide over the tabletop, hesitant but determined, until they find mine.
“Kade...” she says, the words dying on her lips like she’s not sure where to go from here.
Her voice is as soft as I remember, but she’s not captivating me like she did in the past.
She looks at me with those piercing blue eyes, eyes that once knew all my secrets. “Maybe we can start over?” She hesitates, and I’d swear she’s holding her breath, waiting for my response.
I stare at her hand on mine, her pale skin against my darker tone as memories and what-ifs well up between us. But there”s a resistance inside me.
I pull my hand away, and I sense her pain even though all she does is inhale a sharp breath.
“Stella, you”ll always be important to me, but...” My voice trails off as I take another drink, unsure of how to tell her that whatever was between us is gone now.
I look up, meeting Stella”s expectant gaze, and I”m lost for words.
There”s a long pause, a moment where shadows of our past fade in the light of our current lives.
With a small nod, her shoulders drop just slightly in silent acceptance of what I haven’t said.
No more words are needed.
The door clicks shut behind Stella, leaving a silence that feels like the final note to an old song. My hand pulls my cell phone out of my pocket, then I turn on the screen before I can talk myself out of it.
Her number is familiar, etched into my muscle memory. It rings once, twice, and then her voice flows into my world, leaving me closing my eyes like a junkie getting a fix.
“What, Kade?” She sounds upset, and I don’t blame her.
“Emma, I just wanted to check in. Are you okay?” I need to know that this aching feeling inside me isn’t an indication that something’s terribly wrong.
There”s a pause, long enough for me to worry. Long enough that I begin to regret calling. But then she speaks, “Yes, Kade. I’m fine.” Her brief words are enough to ease the tightness of fear in my chest.
“Good.” I exhale, leaning back against the wall. “Remember the orchids?” I ask, thinking about how she’d turned sideways and pretended one was a mustache and mimicked twirling one side where the bloom was.
To my surprise, she laughs, a sound that seems to reach through the phone and pluck at something inside me. “You have to admit I’d look amazing with a mustache.”
“Oh, you did,” I say, my smile lingering.
I want to tell her about Stella, about the door that closed tonight, but the words die on my tongue. What”s the point? There”s nothing there. Emma doesn”t need the weight of dead-end what-ifs.
So we talk, skirting around the edges of the things that have pushed a wedge between us. We don”t mention the security system or the argument. Instead, we talk about everything and nothing, filling the spaces between us with memories and laughter.
“Kade?” she says softly, breaking our string of shared memories, her voice softer now. “Thanks for calling.”
“It’s my pleasure,” I say, feeling something realign.
“I’m going to get some sleep. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Em,” I say into the phone. She lets out a soft laugh as she hangs up, and the sound sends warmth through my gut as the knots in my shoulders unwind and begin to relax.
The sheets twist around my legs, a tangled prison of cotton that clings to my sweaty skin. My breaths are heavy as I flip the pillow for the cooler side yet again.
Sleep has been nothing but a dream. A dream I’m not having.
The image of Emma, her head tilting ever so slightly into my palm, is seared onto the insides of my eyelids. Every time I close them, I feel her all over again—her warmth, her softness, the sweet trust and desire in her eyes.
“Dammit,” I say into the darkness, raking a hand through my hair.
It”s no use; my body”s wound tight, every muscle coiled with an ache that only Emma can soothe. I”m hard, painfully so, and it”s all because of her. Somehow she’s got me tied up in knots without even trying.
I throw the covers back, a restless sigh escaping me as I sit on the edge of my bed. Moonlight filters through the blinds, casting slatted shadows across the room, across the very space I wish Emma was right now.
My heart kicks my rib cage, once, twice, three times, then the pain fades once more.And internally, I try to remind myself of all the reasons I should stay away from her. And yet...
“Emma,” I whisper into my bedroom, as if she can hear me, as if saying her name might somehow teleport her to the space beside me.
It doesn”t.
My feet hit the cold floor and I stand, pacing the length of my bedroom. I”ve got a long day ahead. I have meetings stacked like dominoes, waiting to fall. I need to be sharp, focused. But focus is a luxury when your mind is a carousel of what-ifs and almosts, spinning endlessly around one girl.
But Alex and Emma need me to be at my best for the sake of the club.
“Get it together, Kade,” I say, forcing deep breaths.
A glance at the clock tells me dawn is hours away, but I know that there’s no rest to be had for me. I’m wide awake and my body is revved up, thanks to her. “Emma,” I say again quietly, “you”re going to be the death of me.”