Chapter 23
EMERY
“Are you sure you can’t stay?” Knox asks, pulling on his shirt. Exhaustion nips at the back of my eyelids, and I’m almost ready to give in.
“We both know that isn’t a good idea,” I deadpan, trying to rid my voice of any lingering emotions. There is too much going on in my head right now to go upstairs with Knox. Who knows what post-orgasm Emery would admit to?
I need to figure out what my feelings mean and if they are worth exploring more. Hell, I might even need another pros and cons list. The same list I used to justify our fake dating experiment but slightly modified to remove the fake part. Because somewhere along the way, it stopped being fake.
Knox clears his throat and shuffles his feet nervously as I pull my boots on. “I could argue that what we just did wasn’t a good idea, but you aren’t ready for that conversation.”
“Excuse me?” I ask, feeling a fresh wave of annoyance grip the back of my neck.
He lets out a deep, but irritatingly relaxed sigh and tilts his head in a way that would feign innocence for anyone else. But I know better. There is nothing innocent about him.
“Listen, Emery,” he begins. The sound of my real name coming out of his lips hits me harder than I’d like to admit. There’s something so soft and safe about the nickname, Bambi. “I’ve been avoiding you. Well, I was trying to, but apparently I did a shit job.”
Holy shit. This asshole was trying to ghost me. Anger boils up my throat, but I choke it down. “And why would you do that?” I ask, tension coating every syllable. My jaw feels so stiff, I’m surprised I can say anything at all.
“Because I like you, okay,” he admits, running his hands through the unruly curls on the top of his head.
“And not in a fake dating or weirdly platonic friend way—in the I can’t stop thinking about you for more than five seconds way.
You’re so ingrained in my brain that every tiny thing reminds me of you.
It’s like the second you moved back, you opened this Pandora’s box of emotions I was prepared to let suffocate with my sad, teenage, broken heart.
And maybe I even knew this before we started our stupid deal, and that’s why I kept up this dumb charade. ”
“I wanted a reason to be close to you because I knew it was going to take you more time to get to know me again. To forgive me. And that’s why I didn’t tell you about Henry.”
My body feels stiff and motionless. Like, even if I wanted to run away and block out all these senseless feelings, I couldn’t. “What about Henry?” I ask, furrowing my brow.
Knox mashes his lips together and lets his gaze fall to the floor. “Henry offered to co-sign my loan. Nothing is set in stone yet, but I’m pretty sure he’s going to do it.”
I clench my fists and try to grasp onto my emotions. A storm of anger and irritation surrounds me, but I’m too overwhelmed to know which is which. “Okay. So, you didn’t tell me sooner because—”
“Because I knew you’d walk away,” he says, cutting me off. “Or at least I thought you would. I kept telling myself that you were scared of us and that you’d come around eventually. You’d see the man I’m trying to become and change your mind.”
I close my eyes and try to breathe in and out slowly, but it’s no use. “See. This is exactly why we’d never work. Even after all these years, you still can’t be honest with me. You should know exactly how pissed off that makes me. You created my trust issues, you ass.”
Maybe bringing up the past was a low blow, but I don’t have the energy to grapple with my maturity right now. Right now, I want to make him hurt as much as I do. And it works too. His face crumples with the same regret I’ve seen countless times this summer.
“I’m sorry, Emery. I’m sorry for everything. But I can’t change the past. I can only try to prove to you that I’m not that scared little boy anymore. I want a future with you, and getting this loan should be the start of that—not the end.”
Everything he’s saying makes me want to drop to my knees and forgive him, but it’s not that simple. I feel the longing tug of that future he’s talking about, and I can almost see it if I think hard enough, but after everything, I still can’t let myself fall.
I blink back the frustration building behind my eyes. My gaze darts around the room, looking for a quick exit. I need space to think before I strangle him or kiss him. I’m not sure which would be worse.
“I know you didn’t mean to hurt me,” I say, pushing a heavy breath out of my lungs.
“And I can’t deny that I’ve been flirting with the idea of us, too.
But you lied to me, Knox—maybe not directly, but you still withheld very important information.
I don’t know what I would’ve done when our agreement ended, but that wasn’t for you to decide.
You don’t get to decide what scares me. But I guess we can figure it out now because I’m officially ending this dumbass deal.
Fuck—” I curse, banging my knee against the side of the work bench.
“Shit, Emery. Are you okay?”
Knox steps forward like the redeeming hero he is, and when his warm, calloused hands wrap around my arm, I want to give in, but I can’t. At least not right now.
“Stop,” I say abruptly, shaking his hand off me. I think my body whines when I do it, which makes my stubbornness the only redeeming quality I have left. “Just stop, okay? I can’t—I can’t think when you’re touching me.”
I brace for the impact of his smirk, and even though I see the slightest twitch of the corner of his lip, he keeps his face neutral. Longing puddles in my chest.
“I need to think,” I explain, softening my voice. I press the palms of my hands into my eye sockets and squeeze out what’s left of my composure. “Can you give me some space for now?”
He doesn’t answer right away. His storm-clouded eyes travel over the length of my body like he’s trying to plot his next move. My skin shudders under his gaze. Even his eyes are too much right now.
“Yes,” Knox says, breaking the silence between us. “If that’s what you want, then I’ll give it to you. But don’t mistake that for me giving up. Because I won’t. Not this time.”
His words sink into me like a solid anchor, making it hard for me to put one foot in front of the other. I not only know he means it—I feel it.
I start walking toward the door, but before I can get too far, he places a hand firmly on the door. “Emery, wait.”
I clench my eyes closed, feeling my heartbeat painfully loud in my eardrums. I don’t trust myself to look at him.
“I meant every word,” he says. “Every damn one.”
My shoulders sag, but I keep my chin focused ahead. Everything feels so tight and strained. I need air.
So, I nod slowly, waiting for him to slowly release his hand. Without another word, I open the door and step out into the summer night. There’s a slight chill in the air—a friendly reminder that summer is almost over.
I keep my head focused on my truck, but I can feel him watching me through the window.
Every time I’m tempted to turn around, I pinch the inside of my index finger and keep focusing on the satisfying crunch of gravel under my boots.
I have to shove my hands into my pockets to keep them from trembling.
Was it this hard to walk away last time?
No. But I’m not walking away this time. Not really.
I’m just asking for space and a little patience while I make what feels like a life-changing decision.
I’m not sure how I end up here, but I’m currently in the candy aisle of the only 24/7 gas station in all of Honey Grove. Blinking lights and a questionable smell aren’t enough to keep me from my number one coping mechanism—chocolate.
Before I can grab the extra-large Kit Kat calling my name, my phone buzzes in my pocket. When the screen lights up, it says I have a voicemail waiting. I must’ve gotten a call while I was with Knox. I tap play and hold the phone to my ear.
“Hi, this is Robert Richardson. I own a few storefronts a little way down from your grandmother’s antique store.
I’ve been meaning to stop by and say hi, but I haven’t had the time.
Anyway, I heard from a friend that you’re fixing up your grandmother’s place, but I wanted to see if there’s any way you’d be interested in selling.
I’m looking to expand in the next few years, and I figured I’d reach out… ”
The rest of the message gives me his contact information and a few other details that I gloss over. Blood pounds in my ears. I couldn’t sell my grandmother’s shop. Right? I moved hundreds of miles to start over for that place, and I couldn’t give up on it now.
Except, I was a big believer in fate, and just like my grandmother leaving her shop to me, this could be another sign. I could use that money to establish my refurbishing business and I could set up shop anywhere. I could even move back to the city if I really wanted.
But was that what I wanted?
It was tempting, sure. But the small-town life has grown on me. I loved having my morning coffee at Marie’s place and people watching on Main Street. I even loved the unsolicited chatter from strangers and all the connections I’ve made since moving here.
Even in the city full of thousands and thousands of people, I’d never felt more alone. In Honey Grove, I felt like I was a part of something, and I was slowly starting to find my place.
Except if things didn’t work out with Knox, would I still feel that way? He has been an important part of my life here, whether I’d like to admit it or not.
I groan and slide my phone in my back pocket, the voicemail still replaying in my head.
Selling the store could mean moving on from Knox forever, and I’m not sure I’m ready to do that.
I grab another Kit Kat for the road before heading toward the cashier.
But before I can get there, I hear the ding of a new customer.
When I look up, I expect to see another night owl in passing, but a rat’s nest of blonde hair and rumpled pajamas greet me instead.
“Emma?” I ask, causing her to snap out of her zombie-like daze.
“Emery?” she gasps, acting shocked to see me. “What are you doing up so late?”
“I’m a childless twenty-something with a sweet tooth,” I joke, pointing a finger at her. “The better question is, what are you doing up?”
She lets out a dramatic sigh and lets her head fall back slightly. Sleepiness is glazed over her pupils like Saran Wrap. “We’re out of milk, and if Mi wakes up tomorrow morning and he can’t have his cereal, then he’s going to be an absolute terror the rest of the day.”
“Right,” I nod, giving her a gentle smile, “that sounds like a real crisis.”
Emma nods back and lets her gaze linger on the chocolate clenched in my hands. “Is everything okay? I know we don’t know each other that well, but you seem upset.”
Damn, she’s good. “Someone just offered to buy my shop,” I blurt out—not even considering that this information will get back to the one person I don’t want to know.
Her brows lift. “The antique shop?”
“Yeah,” I say, swallowing hard. “It would be a chance to cash out and start my refurbishing business for real.”
“And I’m guessing it wouldn’t be in Honey Grove,” she observes, hitting the nail on the head. “What would that mean for you and Knox?”
Nothing, I want to say. There was never an us—not really. If I left now, I’d get out clean and unscathed. Or at least that’s what I’d tell myself, but I have a feeling that wouldn’t be the case.
“I’m not sure,” I say, letting my eyes fall to the dingy floor. “But it’s not just the store. We got into a fight. Knox kept something very important from me, and even though it’s not bad, I still can’t handle him lying to me.”
Emma smiles, revealing small dimples on both sides of her cheeks.
“Henry kept a big secret from me, too, when we first started seeing each other,” she admits, her voice lowering to a somber whisper.
“Every time I looked at him, I kept thinking about what else I didn’t know and how I couldn’t let someone like that into my son’s life. ”
Her eyes soften and she grabs onto one of the shelves to support her tired, swaying frame.
“But then he told me the truth. All of it. And afterward, he was prepared to walk away so he could figure out his shit and become the man that my son and I deserved. That’s when I knew we could make it work.
We still had a long way to go, but when I knew he was willing to put in the work, I knew I couldn’t let him walk away. ”
I grind my teeth together. Her words make my entire body ache. Knox is willing to put in the work. I’ve seen him prove it every day this summer. But the question is, am I? It would be easy to sell the shop and walk away. It would be hard to stay and let him in for good.
Emma yawns, trying to cover up her sleepiness with the back of her hand.
“Well, I should probably get that milk and head home before I fall asleep in a sketchy gas station. Enjoy your chocolate therapy.” Her lips melt into a sleepy grin before heading back to the fridges lining the back of the store.
“Oh, and Emma,” I say, stopping her mid-aisle. “I haven’t told Knox about the offer yet. Can you please not say anything?”
“Of course,” she smiles, “but I would tell him soon unless you want to be a hypocrite.”
Fuck. She’s right. And with that truth bomb, she marches back toward the milk, and I head toward the cashier.
After paying for my stuff and hopping in the truck, I pull onto the dark highway and pray the radio will quiet my mind. But it doesn’t help. Emma’s words are still on full blast inside my head.
Honestly, the problem isn’t Knox. It’s me. Sure, I am pissed about him keeping things from me, but there is more to it. I am scared. Scared of becoming that same na?ve sixteen-year-old girl who was absolutely blindsided by someone she fell in love with.
Even eight years later, I can still remember the pain of being rejected and how that pain has echoed into my mid-twenties. And now I’m just waiting for the other foot to drop because second chances like these are made for those cheesy Hallmark movies that Eve loves—not real life.
My chest tightens with the thought of what I’ll do next. I’m not ready to walk away, but I’m not sure if I’m ready to stay either. All I know is if I don’t figure it out soon, I’ll lose everything.
And this time, it won’t be his fault.