40. Garrett
Chapter Forty
GARRETT
“ I ’m not sure everyone does,” he said finally. “We were seen speaking at my parties often enough. But Fletcher is probably not alone in thinking we still hate each other. Most people didn’t pay close attention.”
Garrett shrugged. “We partied hard, and everyone was there to hook up or get wasted.”
He had brushed off the few who had teased or made comments, dismissing the old rivalry as ancient history but obviously not strongly enough.
“I guess I was too focused on spending time with you to care or notice that people still thought of us that way.”
She tilted her head. “When did things change?”
He smiled, but it was tight. “When you got a boyfriend, at the start of your senior year of college.”
Emma’s lips parted.
“I know how that sounds.” Garrett wasn’t proud of himself, but he’d do it again.
Her lip twitched. “Like you were jealous.”
“Oh, I was,” he freely admitted. “But I guess I did a decent job of hiding it, because when the two of you started having problems—rather quickly I want to add—you confided in me.”
The corners of her lips twitched. “Did you tell me to break up with him?”
He nodded, his heart picking up at the confession he was about to make. “Not straight out and not right away. But I had plans for us, and he was in the way.”
Her eyes widened apprehensively. “What did you do?”
“Nothing overt,” he promised her. “I didn’t sabotage your relationship. But the guy was… difficult. He made your life harder instead of easier. It wasn’t hard to identify and exploit the cracks in your relationship.”
Her head tilted up as she examined the ceiling for a minute. “His name was Edward. I don’t know much about him, aside from what my mom told me.”
Garrett knew everything there was to know about Edward McNair thanks to the extensive background check his PI had done. But he stuck to what she had told him all those years ago.
“He was from an old Southern Baptist family. Eddie wanted to be a lawyer. You met him in your Econ class. You said he had good manners and always looked you in the eye when he spoke to you, instead of your chest.”
“Huh.” She considered that a moment. “That must be why he got so offended when my mom implied he’d hit it and quit it.”
“She did?”
Emma nodded. “In those exact words. She called him when I was in the hospital, expecting him to rush to my side. But he didn’t. She’s badmouthed him ever since.”
Even if they hadn’t been intimate, Edward had completely shut her out after the accident. Even if she hadn’t been his anymore, Garrett thought that was pretty fucked up.
So much for so-called Southern manners.
“I was in my first year at HBS and was helping you with your application, including steering you toward an internship I knew the admissions committee would love.”
Emma sucked in a breath, flushing. “I got into Harvard Business School. My mom showed me the letter.”
“Yeah.” He’d nearly burst with pride and relief. They were going to be at the same school again. Only this time she would be in her early twenties, and a peer.
“Most of it would be paid by scholarships and financial aid. But you were worried about the cost of living. Only a third of students get on-campus housing and you were stressing out about having to rent a room in such an expensive city. That’s when I mentioned my spare room.”
Emma leaned forward. “You wanted us to move in together?”
“I did,” he said, not bothering to hide the possessiveness he felt. “Like I said, I had big plans for us.”
She froze and her skin flushed, this time with true heat. The air pulsed with unspoken need.
Garrett had to fight the urge to reach for her. They needed to get through this. He wouldn’t be worthy of her touch until she knew everything. And forgave him.
“And then it happened,” he ground out.
“What?” she asked wide-eyed when he paused.
“You broke up with Edward,” he said. “You told me all about it. We were talking on the phone a lot because texting wasn’t enough for us anymore. The tenor of our conversations had changed. The calls were more personal. Intimate. We didn’t acknowledge it openly, but the two of us understood that the next time we saw each other, things would be different.”
She was watching him now like she wanted him to demonstrate, to feel his hands on her. But he couldn’t derail this conversation. She needed to know everything or she wouldn’t trust him.
“Our winter breaks overlapped, two entire weeks that I was determined to spend with you. When you got home, there was an engraved invitation waiting for you.”
She did a double take. “A what?”
“A party invitation,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I had it specially made, making sure to note that it was for a very exclusive event. But you still seemed surprised when I opened the door and there was no one else there.”
“So, it was a private party?”
He grinned. “No one knew I was coming home. I snuck in at two in the morning in a sedan rental. I didn’t want the grapevine to activate or else I would have had a crowd of people show up, expecting one of the usual blow-out parties.”
And he would have strangled every one of those unfortunate souls.
Garrett leaned forward until there was a scant few inches between them. “The invitation said it was a formal dinner. You showed up wearing this incredible red velvet dress. I couldn’t wait to take it off you, but I wanted to do things right. I led you to the living room… I had the fireplace going.”
Emma’s eyes had taken on a slumberous look. She was picturing the scene of her seduction. It wasn’t his imagination because her voice was breathier when she asked, “Is that why you wanted to have sex on the couch last night?”
The urge to reach out and take her all over again was almost unbearable now.
“No,” he said, his voice so hoarse he was surprised the words were intelligible. “I had dragged a mattress from the nearest bedroom and laid blankets over it. We had a picnic in front of the fire.”
Unable to resist, he reached out to rest his hand on her upper thigh. “We ate appetizers and had bread, cheese, and wine. And then you kissed me. Our first kiss.”
He could see the increased rise and fall of her chest under his trench coat.
Garrett slid off the couch, settling on his knees in front of her. Slowly, methodically, he undid the belt of the coat, pushing it open. But he didn’t touch the button on his shirt. Not yet.
“That’s when I told you why I call you Em my and not Em ma , even though it made you mad in high school.”
He looked into her eyes, snaring them with his own. “It was because you were my Em. Mine . Even back when our age difference meant I had to keep you at arm’s length, I was laying a claim. I just never told you. I had to wait.”
Garrett shifted, leaning over her. Emma leaned back, her body following the line of his. But he kept a crucial inch of space between them.
How did her lips get so moist-looking?
“Is that true?” she asked, her pupils visibly dilated. “I was your Em from the start?”
“Yes. I’ve always wanted you. Always .”
He waited a beat, holding his breath. Waiting for permission. And she gave it to him, reaching up and wrapping her arms around his neck.
His resolve broke, and he gave in to the urge to put his hands on her.
Garrett pulled her off the ottoman, landing on the couch behind him with her in his lap.
Her hands shook as she undid the fastenings of the shirt and pants he’d put on to wait for her return. He yanked open the lapels of the coat and cupped her breasts with a groan. But it turned into a hiss when her small hands reached out and pulled out his cock, stroking and squeezing him.
“No, baby, you’re too sore.”
“Not sore,” she breathed, her open mouth on his. She rubbed against him, incinerating what little resolve he had.
He swore under his breath as one sinuous undulation nearly made him explode.
“Tell me the rest,” she said in his ear, pressing her breasts against his bare chest. “Tell me about our first time.”