Chapter 12 #2
“True,” she says, tucking her arms behind her back and pushing her chest forward. It’s almost like she’s daring me to look. What a tease. “Would you accept another form of payment?”
Excitement scratches at the back of my throat. “What did you have in mind, Bambi?” I step closer, expecting her to maintain the space between us, but she holds her ground…again.
Emery inches her face closer to mine, and we’re thrust back into the heated moment from a few minutes ago. This only works if I convince myself that it’s all in my head, but now I’m not so sure.
“I can show you better than I can tell you. Close your eyes,” she commands. Her hot breath tickles the end of my nose, and I’m so close to my fuck it moment. I willingly obey and squeeze both lids shut.
I keep them shut, holding my breath and trying to tune out the sound of my own heart hammering. There’s a shift in the air, and then I feel a hand ghost across my chest. It’s both light and maddeningly devious.
Anticipation continues to curl through me as I imagine Emery’s lips inching closer to mine. It’s been so long that I can’t remember how she tastes, and all of a sudden, I realize how much I hate that.
What I expect are two soft lips planted on mine. What I get is a sharp pinch on the back of my arm, making my eyes shoot open in surprise.
“Ouch!” I yell, taking a step back. “What the hell!”
Her eyes shimmer with the same mischievous glow I usually rock. It’s also accompanied by the world’s biggest smile. Apparently, my pain makes her very happy. I should find that concerning, but it doesn’t do anything to quell the fire burning under my skin.
“I can’t believe you thought I was going to kiss you,” Emery says, shoving my shoulder. “You deserve more than a pinch, idiot.”
“You know we’re going to have to kiss eventually, right, Bambi?” I say, trying to recover from the disappointment being injected into my veins. “I thought you wanted to practice.”
She quirks a brow. “I’m sure that’s exactly what you thought. You can think about your actions while you give me a ride home.”
Emery doesn’t waste a second before stalking toward the stairwell. Of course, I follow like the sad little puppy I am.
“You never gave me a definite answer,” I say when we hit the bottom of the stairs. She finally breaks from her fast pace and spins to face me. It could be the fluorescent lighting, but her face looks flushed.
“You have yourself a deal. I’ll start moving my stuff in tomorrow. I hope you’re ready for me to mess up your space. I’m not exactly neat.”
She has no idea just how ready I am.
“This place is packed,” I call out to Beau, who’s trying to push past a drunk couple arguing in front of our table.
“I think there’s a band tonight,” he answers, setting two long-neck beers down. “That or karaoke. I just saw a mic being set up in the corner, but I’m praying it’s not karaoke.”
A fond memory of Beau’s drunken rendition of Like a Virgin by Madonna comes to mind when I think about karaoke. He really had me believing he was a virgin there for a second until he found himself in a dark corner with some stranger later in the night.
“You were a star that night,” I say, offering him a friendly cheers. He glares at me and takes a big swig of his beer instead. I shake my head and smile before pulling my own drink to my lips. After last night, I really needed this.
The ride back to Emery’s place was quiet and filled with tension so thick that not even a knife could cut through it.
I spent the entire ride home and most of last night tossing and turning just thinking about that almost kiss.
How could something that didn’t even happen take up so much real estate in my head?
I almost had a car hood drop on me today because I couldn’t stop thinking about how much I wanted to run my hands through her thick hair and tug until she threw her head back in pleasure. Hell, I’m even picturing her in the bar right now, giving me eyes from across the room.
Oh wait. I’m not picturing it.
She’s here.
“What are you looking at?” Beau asks, turning his head in the direction of my eyeline. “Did you tell your girl to meet us out? Not cool, bro—unless she brought the redhead for me, then I’m all for it.”
“I didn’t know she was going to be here,” I say, not thinking about my response. That much is apparent when I look back at Beau and his brows are pressed together. “I mean, I knew she was going out with a friend, but she didn’t say they were coming here.”
“Dude, the Rustic Inn is the only bar in town,” he says. “I think she’s checking up on you.”
“Right,” I say, my voice heavy with disbelief. “I’m going to go say hi. Do you want to come with me?”
“No, I’m good,” he says, taking a swig of his beer. “I just got a good look at the redhead, and I can say with confidence that she’s not a fan of me.”
“Marie?” I ask, raising a brow. “We went to school with her. You’ve known her since kindergarten.”
Beau opens his mouth, but then snaps it shut again, shaking his head. “It’s a long story. I think I spotted Johnny over by the pool table. I’m going to go say hi.”
“Okay,” I say, filing that information away for later. “I’ll come grab you when I’m done.”
I turn, expecting to find Emery’s eyes searching for mine, but instead I’m met with the back of some guy’s head.
He adjusts his stance to lean on the table-top beside her, and when I get a clear shot of her face, she has a full smile and crinkled eyes that feel like the kind of gut punch that would take my breath away.
I stop in the sea of people and tell myself to relax. She’s just being polite—something she only seems to do when I’m not around. But then he leans closer, and I grit my teeth together so hard that my jaw makes a quiet popping sound.
I’m moving before I can tell myself any more convincing lies. It takes me five seconds flat and a lot of targeted elbowing to get to her. It doesn’t take long for her eyes to lock on mine and the douchebag’s gaze to follow.
“Hey, babe.” I smile, grabbing the small of her back. She tenses for a moment before relaxing into my touch.
“Hey,” she smiles, turning to me. She raises a brow, secretly asking what the hell I’m doing. I couldn’t answer that question even if I tried.
I can feel the stranger’s eyes on me, and I don’t even look up to see if I know who it is before making my next move. Bold? Sure. But the only thing that’s going to shut up the jealous rage monster inside my head is going full alpha male for the next five seconds.
I dip my head, brushing my lips against hers. I’m slow and hesitant at first, but then, when I know she isn’t going to pull back or pinch me again, I sink into the warmth of her mouth. The noise of the bar fades, and no matter how corny it sounds, I feel like we’re the only two people in the room.
I deepen the kiss more. Maybe it’s to make a point, or maybe it’s because I know there’s a good chance I won’t get to revel in this feeling again. Our lips mold perfectly together, and I don’t want to pull away, but then the grating sound of someone clearing their throat causes me to pull back.
When our eyes meet, her lips are still parted, and her cheeks are flushed just like they were last night.
Her fingers dance across her bottom lip like she can’t believe what we just did.
So, to break the bubble of anxiety threatening to explode inside her, I lean into her ear and whisper, “I told you we’d have to kiss eventually, Bambi. ”