28. I’m not ready to let go （tell me something I don’t know）
CHAPTER 28
I’M NOT READY TO LET GO (TELL ME SOMETHING I DON’T KNOW)
CHARLIE
T hings I didn’t know about Emma before this morning:
She sleeps on her back, legs thrown out like a chalk outline.
Her fridge is barer than a frat house.
She looks even more perfect in the morning.
I shouldn’t have stayed last night. It isn’t what we do. But then we did a lot of things we don’t do last night.
All I can think about is the way she came undone. How deliciously she let go. Shameless, moaning as she listened to us together. It was easy to get off while she watched, hungry for every drop. Like I imagined she would be.
I almost left. After I cleaned us both up, the plan was to take my stuff and go, but then she blinked up at me and asked me to stay.
And what the hell was I supposed to do?
I said yes. I’ll always say yes to her.
Carefully, I slide out of her bed and already miss holding her. Waking up with her in my arms will go down as one of the best moments of my life, but I can’t let myself get attached.
Don’t forget she hates you.
She’s so beautiful, it hurts. Hair fanned out across the pillow, lips parted. I allow myself one touch, stroking her cheek softly, just to prove she’s here, that I’m not dreaming.
The coffee table is littered with notes, and familiar clothes hang on a small rack in the corner. It’s a carefully curated selection of items, but no more.
As if I can talk.
Everything I care about can be summed up in a few words: Reese and my car. Everything else is dressing.
The sheets rustle, catching my attention.
“Good morning,” she says, blinking awake. It’s just past eight, and I need to shower and eat, but I don’t want to miss a second of her like this.
“Morning, sunshine.”
There’s no hesitation in her smile, no guard up. Just a softness that reaches into my chest and squeezes my heart.
Doesn’t she know what she’s doing to me?
She sits and pulls an oversized T-shirt over her head while I mourn the loss of her bare skin.
“So,” she says, nervously tugging at the hem.
Ah, I know where this is leading. My gut sinks, but I remain silent, waiting for the inevitable.
She clears her throat. “Thank you. For last night. And for agreeing to this whole thing in the first place. I…” She pulls her lip between her teeth, thinking. “I know it was an unusual favor to ask, especially since we’re only coworkers, but it means a lot to me.”
Only coworkers? Fuck. I swallow past the lump in my throat and force a smile. Because I’m just the guy she fooled around with. I’m not the one. “Hey, it was my pleasure.”
“Literally,” she teases with a smile so sweet it twists the knife deeper.
“Yeah,” I grit out. I should never have stayed. “So… Job done, huh?”
“I guess.” She nods. “You passed with flying colors.”
“I think that’s my line, sweetheart,” I say, my heart tied in knots.
I always knew it wouldn’t last. But I hoped I’d get more time with her. “So, what about the other half of this deal? Any other shindigs I need to get the monkey suit out for?”
There’s something pained in her smile before she clears it away. “Not if I can help it.”
That’s right, hotshot. Don’t forget this is temporary.
“Okay, so where else will we find him? I can’t hold up my end of the bargain very well if he’s not around. Unless you plan on keeping me till Christmas?”
She flushes. “He’ll probably be at that new beach restaurant, the Seaside. He loves that place. If he’s out right now, that’s where we’ll find him.”
I lean in, pleased when her eyelashes flutter. “I guess that only leaves us one option.”
“What’s that?” she whispers.
“I’m taking you to breakfast.”
Emma said this place was stuffy. Talk about an understatement. I know white torture is a thing, but I had no idea the rich were so invested in it.
There isn’t a single comfortable surface in the entire place.
Even the staff look starched and pressed into shape.
I let Emma take the lead, drinking in the sweet smell of her shampoo, dropping my hand to her back in case Logan is here. It’s an excuse to touch her, and I’ll take every single one I get.
My ass hasn’t even hit the seat before we’re being greeted.
“Good morning. Apologies for the interruption. Can I get you any drinks to start? Tea? Coffee? Mimosas, maybe?”
Maybe if Logan shows up. “Double espresso for her and a hazelnut latte for me.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll get those started for you.” He bustles away, back ramrod straight, chin high, never dropping the act.
“Do you think I could get him to bark like a dog?”
Emma’s calm facade cracks so minutely anyone else would have missed it. But I’ve studied her face too closely to not notice the quirk of her lips, the mischievous sparkle in her eye.
She taps her fingers, and I’d bet money she’s imagining raking those nails across my skin. I know I am.
“Probably, but I’d rather you didn’t.”
There’s an entire table between us, which is a crime. If we were dating for real, I’d be much closer. Fuck it. I slide my chair around until I’m next to her and angle in to press a kiss to her cheek, stealing as much of her as she’ll allow.
You know, in case Logan is here.
Emma leans into it, sweet and precious. Under the table, she lays a claiming hand on my thigh, higher than I anticipate, and squeezes, filling my head with a thousand dirty thoughts I can’t act on.
“Tell me about this,” I say, teasing the soft skin around her watch.
“It was my grandmother’s.” She slips it off, passes it to me.
I rub a thumb over it, soaking in the warmth of her that lingers, and turn it over. The engraving says you can, you will .
“It was the first thing she bought when she sold the company. She walked by it every day on her way to work, but Nana said the staff always gave her the eye if she went in. She took great joy in standing there while they engraved it.”
It must be nice to have tangible proof of your own history. I’ve never inherited anything other than a blood type. “I’ve already decided that when Reese finally has kids, the car will go to them.”
“Not your own?”
“I wasn’t planning on having any, to be honest.”
There’s a reassuring squeeze of my thigh. “Something else we have in common.”
Another reason I should walk away. No matter how perfect we are on paper, it’ll only end badly. Everything does.
“I’ve been sure for a little while,” she says. “But I’ve been too scared to tell anyone. As modern as the world is, it’s still seen as cruel or selfish for a woman to not want children. As though I’m betraying my own biology by choosing a different life. And it’s hard, because there are so many people in this world who want kids but can’t have them.”
“It’s your life and your body. Biology can jump in a lake.”
“Yes, well, not everyone agrees.”
“Trust me, there are way too many abandoned kids around for a world that claims it gives a shit about protecting them. Reese and I are proof of that, and I’ve met enough bad parents to say I’d rather be a selfish person who doesn’t have kids than one who does.”
Emma slips her hand in mine, a silent show of support.
I have to ask. “Logan doesn’t want a litter of Logan Juniors?”
She shrugs. “I’m not sure. We never got around to talking about the future. He accepted that I worked, but I’m not sure he’d understand my reasons for not wanting children. We were usually too busy talking about our sex life.”
I get close, brushing my lips against her ear, because I need her to hear this. “Do you see it now? You don’t need fixing. You never did. Anyone who thinks otherwise can go fuck themselves, because they definitely haven’t earned the right to fuck you. Sex is about more than coming, and if you’re having it, the least it should fucking be is enjoyable.” Heat is rolling off her in waves, tangled up in her green eyes, and Christ, I wish I could kiss her. “I meant what I said. You’re sexy when you’re turned on, whether you come or not.”
Emma has a habit of closing her eyes when her reactions might give too much away. Like she can only react to them in secret because no one else will understand.
So the fact I’ve been allowed to see her at her most vulnerable is a gift I won’t waste.
“Watching you last night…” she whispers. “It might be the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. Better than I imagined when I recorded myself.”
It takes a few slow breaths to collect myself, and luckily, our drinks arrive, because I don’t even know where to start with that. Preferably by getting her back in bed, but that option’s gone now.
I’m inside paying the bill when he arrives.
Even though I knew he’d be here, even though I was the one to suggest coming, my blood still boils when Logan strolls over to where Emma’s sitting alone. I’m stuck standing at the register watching as the asshole takes my seat, kissing her hand and making her smile.
If he touches her again, I’m gonna rip his fingers off one by one and stuff them so far up his ass he won’t be able to sneeze without giving himself a prostate exam.
I always wondered how Superman never had to cover his eyes while Cyclops did, but I get it now. Because if I had laser vision, Logan would be a pile of ash.
As soon as I can, I make my way back, but he must sense it, because he’s up and gone before I can get to him, smirking at me and begging to be taken down a peg.
“That looked cozy,” I say when he’s out of earshot, hating that the chair is still warm from him. Hating that Emma is avoiding my eye right now. “What did he want?”
“To be presumptuous,” she says, her expression impossible to read. “He asked me if I was free next weekend.”
Right. I should be happy for her. I wish I could be.
“And?”
She shrugs. “I said I’d think about it.”
The first time I got my nose broken hurt less than hearing that.
“What’s there to think about? I thought that’s what you wanted?”
Emma finally looks at me. In fact, she stares at me for so long, her eyes so conflicted, that I give her the out she so clearly needs. “If you’re worried about me, don’t bother. This was always going to be temporary.”
If anyone’s to blame for stepping on my feelings, it’s me and me alone.
She holds my gaze. “Where does that leave us?”
I shouldn’t push my luck.
We were barely even coworkers before this, and once the procedure is done, Emma will wash her hands of me.
But I’m a selfish man, and when it comes to her, I’ll always want to take the mile.
“Friends,” I say, as if it wasn’t in question. And fuck me, if the smile that lights her face doesn’t damn near squeeze my heart right out of my chest.
“Good,” she says. “I’m glad that’s settled.”
There’s no good reason to stick around, but walking away from her is becoming impossible.
“What now?” I ask.
“I was actually hoping you’d show me the rescue shelter.”
Our arms brush as I lean in closer than I should, but it’s worth it to see her eyes flutter. “If you think you can handle it.”
Emma goes so deliciously pink when I tease her, I never want to stop.
“I’m not worried.” She smiles. “I’ll have you there to help me.”