Chapter Twenty-Eight #2
“Hey.” Emma’s voice cracked, and she stopped some ten feet away from him.
She’d chased him down to check on him—which was sweet, really. It made him feel all warm and gooey inside, but it also made him tighten his fists even harder.
Keep your shit together, he reminded himself again. Great lot of good that was going to do him.
She took another tentative step toward him. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” he lied. He forced himself to unclench his hands, shoving them into the pockets of his jeans instead. “Fine. Just needed a minute.”
Her brows rose. “Out here in the cold?”
“It’s not so bad.” Shrugging, he kicked at a loose stone in the pavement.
She clearly didn’t share in his assessment. She crossed her arms over her chest, but she couldn’t hide her shiver.
Guilt tugged at the inside of his chest. “You should go back inside.”
“But you’re out here.”
And she said it so guilelessly, was the thing. Like she’d go anywhere, so long as he was there, and he couldn’t stand it anymore.
He moved back toward the door. He’d suck up another hour of manual labor inside with her and her friends. It was fine.
But as he swept past her, intent on leading the way, she curled her hand around his wrist. The gentle touch stopped him in his tracks, electrifying him the way it always did.
Instinct told him to pull her into his arms and kiss her until she wasn’t shivering anymore—until all the doubt inside him went quiet and still.
But there was another instinct. One that vibrated through him with a dark hum that left him all twisted up inside. One that told him to turn away. Run off into the woods and never come back.
So he did neither, coming to an abrupt stop, frozen in place by the openness in her eyes as she stared up at him.
Only for her gaze to shutter, and then fall.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I know today was kind of awful for you.”
His gut soured. Apparently, he done an even shittier job of hiding how badly the day had worn at him than he’d realized.
Shaking his head, he tried to brush off her concern. “It was fine.”
She looked back up at him again, but fake cheeriness had taken over her face. “Aren’t you the one always telling me to be honest about that kind of thing?”
“Okay, okay.” He pulled his hand away from hers to scruff it through his beard. “It wasn’t great.” He shrugged, managing a smile. “But at least the company was good.”
She shook her head. “I know none of this was what you signed up for.”
That gave him pause. “What do you mean?”
“Like—” She waved a hand between the two of them, as if that explained anything. “We were just supposed to be hanging out, trying new things together, and then bam. You’re having to take care of me while I’m laid up, and going on your version of the road trip from hell.”
“I told you, I don’t mind.”
Sure, he hated New York City traffic, and he hated the way she’d talked about the possibility that someday she might leave. But he’d do just about anything if it meant he got to spend the time with her. Just having her around made everything better. Didn’t she see that?
“I know, but I still feel bad. I just wanted you to know that I get it.” Her voice rose in pitch. “And I’ll make it up to you soon. We can find some new class to take, or there has to be some trail we could go hike together.”
Something dark and unpleasant swam around in his gut. “Emma…”
“I just want us to get back to having fun, you know?”
“Fun?” The word escaped his lips, even as he tried to keep them closed, the dark feeling in his abdomen expanding into a sinkhole.
Her brows pinched together. “Yeah. Of course.”
It was as if she’d found a bruise and pressed on it.
The gravel in his voice surprised even him. “Is that all this is for you?”
“What?” It was her turn to take a step back, her eyes widening into a different kind of shock.
And this was so damn unfair of him. He was the one who’d started this entire thing between them by saying that he didn’t believe in fate or relationships or any of that hogwash, and yet here he was, turning the tables on her.
But it didn’t even matter that they were outside, in the cool, fresh autumn air, the sky big and beautiful and open above their heads. Walls were closing in around him.
“Never mind,” he started to say.
“No.” She stood up straight, color rising on her cheeks. “What are you saying?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It clearly does. You’ve been weird all day—and there have been other times, too, when you’ve gotten all distant, and I’ve tried to keep quiet and give you your space, but if there’s something you need to get off your chest… if this is too much for you or—”
“It’s not enough,” he finally exploded. A shock wave jolted through him.
She looked even more confused by his words than he felt.
“That’s not what I mean,” he backtracked, even though he was pretty damn sure it was.
This was stupid, letting himself blabber when he was exhausted, but she was the one who’d insisted he keep talking.
“Just—what we’re doing together here. It isn’t just trying new things and having fun. Not for me. Not anymore.”
The words threatened to choke him. God, this was awful. Like unzipping his chest and showing her the raw, tender insides of his ribs.
Her throat bobbing, she extended her hand toward his. Carefully, she said, “Hunter, it’s not just fun for me, either.”