16. Emerson
Iwas still mad as I climbed up the stairs to my apartment. My thoughts were rolling around in my mind like storm clouds rolling in. I was ready to tell Stone off. I’d had the entire day to get my thoughts right, and there was no way I was going to hold back.
He was going to know how mad I was.
As soon as I got to our landing, I turned to his apartment and raised my hand to knock on his door but then shook my head. I was sweaty and gross from work. If I was going to yell at him, I was going to look good doing it.
I hurried into my apartment and peeled off my work uniform. I pulled my hair from my ponytail and ran a curling iron through it. I washed my face and redid my makeup. I picked a black top with a plunging neckline and a pair of jeans that made my rear look amazing. I studied my reflection as I put on some big hoop earrings and a few chunky necklaces.
Once I was ready, I slipped on a pair of white cowboy boots and pulled open my front door. I stomped over to his apartment and pounded on the door. I waited, my breath in my throat, for him to open the door.
Worry that he wasn’t even home rushed through me, but I shook my head. He was home. I pounded on his door again, and the second time my fist landed, the door was pulled open. Stone’s eyes widened when his gaze met mine.
“Emerson?”
I swallowed, not expecting the emotions that rushed through me as I stared at Stone with his stormy blue eyes, his brown tousled hair, and his bare chest. He had a pair of swim trunks on, and he was carrying a bucket of ice.
“What the hell...” He glanced behind me. “Is your apartment on fire?”
“Wh-what?” I stammered and scoffed. “My apartment is not on fire.”
He brought his gaze back to mine before he took a step forward, bringing him within inches of me. “Then why are you pounding on my door like someone is dying?”
I stared at him, my brain struggling to keep up. Why was he chastising me? I’d come over to give him a piece of my mind, not face his frustration.
“I wouldn’t come over here, banging on your door, if you’d just mind your own damn business.” I finally found my footing, and I wasn’t going to let him rattle me again.
“What the…” When his eyes widened and his ridiculous half smile spread across his lips, I wanted to deck him. He knew exactly what I was talking about. He not only knew, but he was pleased with himself. “Brett.” He leaned against the doorframe, his smile never wavering.
“Yes, Brett,” I said, my frustration reaching an all-time peak. I don’t know why I thought he would feel bad about what he did. That had obviously been a miscalculation on my end.
And call me crazy, but it seemed like my anger only made him more pleased with himself. Like this was some show and he was enjoying the entertainment.
I crossed my arms and stared at him. “What do you have to say for yourself?” I widened my eyes in an effort to intimidate him.
He didn’t look phased as he glanced to the side and then back over to me. “Nothing. I did the right thing.” He shrugged.
I let out an exasperated sigh. “You did? How?”
“He’s not right for you.” Stone shifted the ice bucket to his other hand.
“He’s not right for me?” I repeated in an effort to make it make sense. “What do you know about what’s right for me? When have you ever cared what’s right for me?”
He was acting like my protective older brother. Which I didn’t need. I already had a brother—and a family, which was in shambles because of him. If he cared so much about what was right for me, maybe he should have started with what happened Cayden’s senior year.
My meaning wasn’t lost on him. His eyes widened. Then he straightened, bringing himself to his full height as he stared down at me.
“I don’t care what you think I tried to do. Brett isn’t right for you, Emerson. You have to trust me on that.”
I glared at him. Frustrated, I dropped my gaze to his chest, which was now a mere foot in front of me. My mind was racing, but everything seemed to fade away when I noticed that he had a tattoo on his left pec. It looked like a four-leaf clover keychain. Exactly like the one I’d given him years ago.
I stared at it, wondering if I was seeing things. I frowned and dropped my gaze, trying to clear my mind before I glanced back up at the tattoo—it was still there. I wasn’t losing my mind. Stone had a tattoo of my lucky charm on his chest.
Why?
I shook my head. This wasn’t what I was here for. “Just, leave me alone, Stone,” I finally managed. I shoved the fact that he had a tattoo of something that meant so much to me into the far corner of my mind, where it belonged. “I agreed to fake date you, but that’s it. It’s fake. It’s not real. I need you to stop chasing away people that have the potential to be real for me.” I brought my gaze back up to his only to find him staring down at me.
His eyes were a dark blue now. His emotions were storming inside of him; I could see them. Feel them. I’d made him mad.
“You just have to understand the boundaries.” I forced a smile. “Then you and I can coexist.”
His jaw muscles were twitching. I wondered what he was thinking but shook my head. I didn’t want to know, nor did I need to know. Opening up emotionally would lead to a closeness that I couldn’t bring myself to have with him. I thought I meant something to him back in high school, but his actions had quickly told me I’d been a fool to think so.
I needed to keep my distance, so I could keep my sanity.
To say I was worked up would be an understatement. I knew if I went back into my apartment, I would spend the next thirty minutes pacing back and forth. I needed to go on a walk.
Unable to say anything else to Stone, I turned and started to make my way down the stairs. I needed some fresh air and to walk off my nerves.
“Where are you going?” Stone asked. His voice drew nearer, so I could only assume that he’d stepped out of his apartment and onto the landing.
“Wherever I want to go,” I called over my shoulder.
The sound of his door shutting startled me, but I just waved him off. I wasn’t his to protect. I could take care of myself.
I continued down the stairs, and I’d almost made it to the upper parking lot, when I heard footsteps behind me. I turned to see Stone, wearing a sweatshirt and sandals, coming down after me. “I don’t need you to babysit me,” I called over my shoulder.
“I’m not babysitting you,” he said as he kept a few feet behind me. I glared at him, but he just pulled his hoodie over his head and stared straight ahead.
“Where are you going?”
He flicked his gaze over to me. “I have somewhere I need to be.”
I rolled my eyes as I crossed the apartment complex’s yard and got onto the sidewalk. “Sure.”
He laughed and rolled his eyes. “Not everything is about you, Emerson.”
I glanced over at him. “What does that mean?”
He shoved his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie. He was quiet for a moment before he shrugged. “I don’t know.” His voice was quiet, like he was accepting defeat or something.
“It’s just rich of you,” I said, my anger still peaking. “You tell me not to date anyone so we can create this facade, but when I came home last night, you were leaving with someone else.” I glared at him, daring him to respond.
He glanced over at me and then returned his attention ahead of us. “Priscilla is just a work colleague.”
“Ha!” I glared at him. “I’ve never seen her on the field before.”
“She’s not with the Tigers. She’s a sports reporter.”
I rolled my eyes. “That’s not a colleague.”
He shrugged. “Well, that’s how I see her.”
“That’s not how she sees you,” I muttered, recalling how she basically claimed him last night when I talked to her.
“Does it matter?”
Stone’s question threw me off guard. “Does what matter?”
“If she sees me as something more. Does it matter?”
I turned my attention to my feet as I walked down the sidewalk. Most of the spots were smooth so there was no chance I would trip. But every so often, a tree root or shift in the ground had caused the concrete to jut up. The last thing I needed was for Stone to come to my rescue again.
“Well, no,” I finally said, glancing over at him. Then I frowned. “Why don’t you see her as something more? I mean, she’s beautiful, elegant. And if she’s a reporter, she’s got a good job.” The more qualities I listed off, the more confused I got. “She’s perfect,” I whispered, feeling completely incompetent next to her.
Stone frowned. “She’s not perfect.”
“But she’s beautiful.”
He studied me. “Sure, okay. Objectively, she’s attractive.”
“And…”
He drew his eyebrows together. “And…I’m not here for just attractive.”
My mind started whirling. He’d mentioned to me at one point that he was known as the MEP of the NFL. Which meant he didn’t date. If he didn’t like Priscilla like that…then who did he like? What was he waiting for if he wasn’t waiting for a girl who looked amazing in anything she wore, had hair that looked like it was created by the gods, and skin that would make roses envious.
“So, you’re just waiting for a goddess, then?” I said. I tried to think of another way to describe someone better than Priscilla, and that was the one word I could come up with.
“A goddess?” Stone wrinkled his nose. “Where did you get that from?”
I stared at him, hoping he would understand how flabbergasted I was. “You’re saying no to Priscilla. Who is better than that?”
He shook his head. “It’s not all about looks, Em. She may be pretty, but that’s not enough.”
I understood that. There were plenty of guys that swept me away with their good looks only to drop me back down to reality with their behavior. “So, you’ve never met a girl that is enough?” I raised my eyebrows. I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear the answer, but I was intrigued enough to ask anyway.
He paused before he glanced over at me. I could tell that he was chewing on my words as if he were weighing how much he wanted to say. Suddenly, I didn’t want to hear whatever he was struggling to get out.
I didn’t want to hear about the one who got away. She had to be amazing if he was holding on for this long. If Priscilla wasn’t good enough, I couldn’t even fathom who this “enough” girl was.
“You know, you don’t have to tell me,” I said, laughing uncomfortably and turning to head back to our apartment complex. This whole night had been a giant mistake. I’d been mad, and I hadn’t really thought through the kind of conversation we were going to ultimately have.
I should have just kept my mouth shut and moved forward.
We walked in silence—Stone a foot or two behind me. It was almost as if he were chaperoning me instead of joining me on a walk. I thought about pointing this out but decided against it. If he was walking next to me, I would feel the need to talk—and when I talked, I said stupid things.
It was best if I kept my mouth shut.
He followed behind me as I climbed the stairs to the fourth floor. I wanted to say something, but I wasn’t sure what. The last time I allowed myself to freehand our conversation, I took us into some strange territories. But I also didn’t want to leave the night on a strange note.
I was halfway to my door, in an effort to run and hide from Stone, when I changed my mind. I could clear this up. I could say something to clear the air.
I whipped around, but when I was met with Stone’s broad chest, I stumbled backwards. I’d figured he’d head to his apartment—not follow me to mine.
But here we were, standing face-to-face on the landing, him staring down at me as I stared up at him. His gaze locked with mine. My body warmed from the intensity in his eyes. He studied me like he was looking for an answer, but I didn’t know what question he was asking.
And then, ever so slowly, his gaze drifted down to my lips. I swear he took a step forward, but I was too locked in on his lingering gaze to check. He brought his gaze back up to meet mine. For a moment, I wondered if he was going to kiss me. Because I wanted him to.
I wanted him to so damn bad.
“Emerson,” he said, his voice low and gruff.
My heart pounded from the sound. “Yes?” I whispered.
He glanced to the side before he brought his gaze back up to lock with mine. “Make me a promise?”
I pulled back slightly. I hadn’t expected that. “Sure.”
“Don’t go walking around at night by yourself.”
I frowned. “Okay.”
He studied me again before he nodded and stepped back. It was like ripping a warm blanket off in the middle of the night. I felt cold without his body warmth surrounding me.
“Good night,” he said as he pushed his hand through his hair.
I blinked, reality crashing down around me. I watched as he nodded to me and turned to head into his apartment. The sound of his door engaging filled the air, marking his departure.
He was gone.
That man left me like that.
I glared at his door before I turned and headed to my apartment. When I got inside, I kicked off my shoes, grabbed a bottle of wine from the fridge, and padded into my bathroom.
I turned on the tub faucet, and while the water flowed, I pulled my hair up into a bun on the top of my head. I was so confused and discombobulated by what had just happened. I’d wanted Stone Walker to kiss me. I’d wanted him to touch me.
I’d wanted him to tell me that I was the girl he couldn’t seem to forget.
And the fact that I wanted that scared me. Because one thing was for sure, a King should never want a Walker.
Ever.