by Izzy Sweet
Brow furrowing, I look to Emmett for an explanation.
“There’s nothing wrong with Taylor Swift…” he hedges, and the way he’s looking at everywhere but me, it’s obvious something about this is definitely making him uncomfortable.
“But?” I push, again feeling like I’m being left out of the loop and not liking it one bit.
“He thinks you look like her!” Casey supplies before doubling over in a fit of laughter.
It takes a second for Casey’s words to fully sink in, but when they do I find myself rounding on Emmett. “You do?”
Emmett drops his chin and shakes his head, still refusing to meet my eyes as he mutters, “Dammit, Casey. Is nothing sacred?”
Uncrossing my arms, I reach over and poke him in the side. “Hey, I asked you a question.”
Turning off the road, Emmett pulls us into a driveway and parks the car in front of a house before he finally turns to face me.
I thought I was prepared for his full, undivided attention. After all, I did poke him and ask for it…
But as he gives me that look, the one where his gaze cuts through all the walls I’ve built up, straight to the core of me, I regret my boldness.
“Yeah, I think you look like her,” he answers slowly, his gaze never wavering. “But prettier.”
Prettier… It’s such a small compliment, easily discarded, and of absolutely no importance, yet it hits me hard.
When was the last time I heard a compliment? A true compliment that wasn’t given by my mom?
I can’t even recall it’s been so long.
The only compliments I ever got out of Tristan were backhanded and meant to make me feel self-conscious. He especially liked to pick on my weight. And my father… has he ever complimented me? When I think about him, all I can think of is all his demands.
“Prettier?” I find myself repeating as my eyes search Emmett’s eyes, looking for any sign that he’s teasing me because I want to believe him.
I want it more than I should.
Emmett leans toward me, his face serious, and suddenly I can’t breathe.
Reaching out, his fingers brush a chunk of my hair behind my ear as he says, “A thousand times more beautiful, baby girl.”
The tips of his fingers drag down my cheek to the line of my jaw, and my entire face tingles from his touch.
I find myself trapped, unable to move as I try to savor the feelings he creates so easily inside me. Savor them like a sweet piece of candy that’s going to melt away before I’m done with it.
Because I’m not supposed to have this… or him…
But I want it anyway…
At least for the moment.
Drinking in his face, I watch his eyelids grow heavy until his lashes are nearly fanning his cheeks.
Completely forgetting myself, I begin to lean toward him, following some deeply buried instinctive need to be closer to him.
Then Casey clears his throat loudly. “Are we going to sit here all night, or are we going to watch a movie?”
I jerk away from Emmett in shock, dropping like a rock back to reality.
Shit. What the hell was I doing? What came over me?
Emmett’s eyes widen at first, as if he’s also surprised, but then a cocky grin spreads across his face as he takes in my burning cheeks.
Seeing that cocky grin of his and the knowing in his eyes, my blush burns so hot I feel it creeping down to my toes.
Dammit. Why do I keep forgetting myself whenever I’m around him? I can’t even control myself with Casey sitting behind us.
I’m totally and utterly shameless.
Scooting as far over in my seat that I can, I try my best to cool down, while Emmett’s voice sounds like he’s on the verge of laughter. “Yeah, yeah, hold your horses, buddy.”
Well, I’m glad one of us finds this amusing. Actually, no I’m not.
From the backseat, Casey whines with youthful exasperation, “What does that even mean?”
Emmett shoots me a look that says, can you believe this kid. “It means wait a minute.”
Casey groans. “Why didn’t you just say that?”
Emmett’s eyes sparkle with mirth. “I did… when I said hold your horses”
Casey makes a sound of disgust then pushes his door open. “Whatever. I’m waiting by the door.”
Once Casey slams the car door shut, my brain decides it’s ready to function again. Why did Casey get out of the car here? And why is he waiting by the door?
Looking out the windshield, all I see is the brown stucco house we’re parked in front of and the two houses beside it. Glancing into the rearview mirror, I search for some sign of a theater, but only see more houses. There’s not a mall or business to be seen on the horizon.
Giving Emmett the benefit of the doubt, I wonder if we’re only stopping here before we head out to get the pizza and movie he promised.
“I thought we were going to catch a movie at a theater…” I say as I glance back and watch Casey walk up the steps of the house we’re parked in front of.
“We are,” Emmett says as he twists the key out of the ignition. “We’re going to watch it in my home theater.”
And there it is… That’s why Emmett shut Casey down so fast when we were talking about movies. It’s because he had this up his sleeve and he didn’t want me to know about it.
He totally tricked me into this on purpose.
Keys jingling, Emmett palms them, then reaches over me and opens his glove box.
I press myself back into my seat, barely avoiding his arm as he pulls out three plastic DVD cases. Pushing the glove box shut with his knuckles, he finally pulls his arm back and opens his door.
Getting out, he’s comes around the front of the Jeep and opens my door for me.
“You coming?” he asks as I just sit where I am, trying to figure out how I’m going to get myself out of this mess.
Is there even an excuse at this point to bail? Because if there is, I can’t think of it.
The thought of being with him in his house though is starting to give me heart palpations.
It was one thing to be with him in public… but in his private house, where he has complete control?
A shiver of excitement slithers down my spine and I shut that shit down quick. I have no idea where it came from, and I really, really don’t want to examine it closely.
“Bree?”
I glance at the house again and bite my lip. This feels like another one of those fuck-my-life-up bad decisions. I can feel it in my bones that nothing good is going to come from this.
Nothing good will come from getting closer to him.
I could say no. I could say take me home right now or I’m calling an Uber. Especially since he tricked me into this situation in the first place.
But seeing Casey pacing eagerly in front of the front door…
How bad could things possibly get if he’s here? It’s not like Emmett can pounce on me in front of the kid.
“Yeah, I’m coming,” I grumble and shoot Emmett a dirty look.
He knows what he did, but the cocky bastard doesn’t have an ounce of shame or remorse. No, his grin grows even more smug and pleased as he walks beside me up the front steps. There’s even a little bounce to his normal swagger…
Or maybe that’s just my irritation over the situation.
Dammit. If I could get away with it, I’d totally stick my foot out and trip him so that smug smile ends up plastered on the front porch.
Stopping beside Casey, I try hard not to glare daggers into Emmett’s back as he unlocks the front door. Try and fail. Thankfully, Casey doesn’t seem to notice.
No, he’s so excited, he grabs my hand and tugs me into the house. Emmett barely has time to step to the side before Casey is half-dragging me, half-leading me through the door.
“Emmett bought a new TV today to watch movies, Bree,” he says excitedly. “You have to see it, it’s huge!”
Chapter Twelve
Bree
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I never knew kids could talk so much. I swear Casey hardly stops to breathe.
Still pulling me by the hand, Casey leads me through the house, giving me a tour while he talks my ear off. The first thing he shows me is the new TV Emmett bought. It is indeed huge, a gleaming seventy-two-inch, top of the line.
After the TV, though, Casey shows me to his room. The room lacks a personal touch, and I find out he moved in with Emmett only last night.
We don’t stay in the bedroom for very long. Casey seems determined to show me every bedroom and bathroom in the house, and while he does it a hundred different questions pop into my mind.
Why did Emmett buy that TV? Why did Casey move in with him? Who are they to each other?
I never got a chance to ask Chase or Avery…
Thankfully, in his excited, nonstop chatter, Casey fills me in on everything. I get his entire life story. He tells me about his grandparents, and how his grandmother brought him to the gym so she could drop him off to stay with Emmett while his grandfather recovers from an illness.
He also tells me about his mom, a deadbeat drug addict who can’t get her act together. He hasn’t seen her since he was a baby and can’t even remember what she looks like.
The most shocking revelation by far though is when he tells me about his dad, Tommy. Tommy passed away a few months ago. His car was hit by a semi-truck that crossed the median on the highway.
By the time Casey finishes, dropping my hand so he can dig into the pizza Emmett ordered, I’m close to tears.
It explains so much about Casey, and all the little things that have been bothering me. His anger… the way he carries himself at times like he’s a little man and not a child. He’s been through so much, at such a young age.
My heart aching and on the verge on breaking, all I want to do is wrap my arms around him and hold him tight. To be there for him. To offer what support I can give.
But do I even have a right? Do I have a right to insert myself into his life? Especially when I have no intention of staying?
Feeling sick to my stomach, it’s everything I can do to pretend to be interested in the movie, but I try, for Casey. Sitting beside him on the couch, I try to share his excitement every time one of his favorite superheroes comes on the screen. I eat all the popcorn he shares with me. I even cheer with him during the big action scenes.
About halfway through the movie, he begins to lean into me. Somehow his head ends up on my shoulder. Afraid to move, afraid it will cause him to pull away, I freeze in place. Ten minutes must pass before I work up the courage to relax and accept his weight.
Another ten minutes or so passes with Casey leaning against me before Emmett motions for me to look over at him.
Glancing over, I see Casey sleeping.
He fell asleep on me.
So many emotions well up inside me, but I think the strongest one of them all, the one that feels the best yet hurts the most, is knowing that he trusts me.
Standing from the recliner he was sitting on, Emmett walks over to me.
“I’ve got him,” he says quietly before bending down to pick up Casey.
I don’t want him to take Casey away from me, selfishly I want to keep him next to me all night, but seeing Emmett lift him up into his arms, cradling him carefully, I find myself feeling at ease. Just the way he holds him leaves no doubt in my mind that Casey is cared for and safe.
Standing from the couch, I follow behind Emmett as he carries Casey to his bedroom. Halfway there, Casey seems to stir a little, his arm dropping, dangling at his side, as he murmurs something.
All it takes is a few whispered words from Emmett and Casey is curling into him, falling back to sleep.
Heart in my throat, I watch from the doorway as Emmett lays Casey on his bed, removes his shoes, and tucks his little body under the covers. Before he straightens, Emmett takes a moment to tenderly brush Casey’s hair back from his forehead.
And the look in his eyes…
I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like it.
It’s love incarnate.
Then he’s facing me.
And that look doesn’t disappear.
For a heartbeat, I let myself imagine that look is meant for me. I let myself indulge in the fantasy that he cares about me and loves me.
To be loved by him… to be cared for and protected by a man like him… What a life that would be…
Then I shove it far away.
As Emmett approaches, eyes still locked on my face, I retreat into the hallway. Seeking cover in the darkness. Hoping all my emotions aren’t out in the open. And if they are, hoping he doesn’t see them.
Without looking behind him, Emmett grabs the handle for the door and closes it quietly.
Still retreating, the urge to run, to hide from him comes over me. Even in this dim lighting, I can see that look in his eyes hasn’t faded. If anything, it’s grown in intensity.
“I should probably go,” I stammer out nervously.
Emmett’s voice is a quiet rumble in the dark as he says, “You probably should.”
In any other situation, I’d take that remark as an insult or a sign that I’m not wanted, but the way he says it, the way he keeps stalking toward me, it’s clearly a warning.
A warning that what I’ve been afraid of all night, what I’ve been avoiding is about to happen.
Reaching down, I dig into my pocket, fingers fumbling to grab my phone. “I’ll just order an Uber…"
Apparently, I can’t retreat and grab my phone at the same time. Finally stopping, my fingers wrap around my phone and I whip it out.
My thumb swipes my phone open and I click on the app, bringing it up, but before I can do anything else, Emmett’s hand is on me, stopping me.
“Bree,” he exhales, my name coming out with sweet adoration, and it’s everything I can do not to look up at him.
Because I know if I look up at him, I’m a goner. I won’t be able to resist him.
I don’t know what it is about him that makes me weak, that draws me to him, but I’m powerless to stop it.
He’s the cliff and I’m the car barreling for him, and I can’t stop no matter how hard I pump the brakes or try to turn in another direction.
My eyes burn as I stare down at the bright screen, but I don’t pull away. I can’t bring myself to do that again. I remember all too well the flash of pain in his eyes yesterday, and god help me, the last thing I want to do is hurt this man or make him feel like I don’t want him.
The problem is I want him too much.
Unable to pull away, but also unable to take the next step, I remain paralyzed, frozen in place, before Emmett makes the decision for me.
He gives a gentle tug on my phone, a testing tug, and my subconscious must make my decision for me because my fingers open, letting him have it.
I don’t know what he does with my phone. I don’t look up to see, and I can’t hear over the sound of my own breathing.
But seconds later, his fingers are wrapping around my face, cradling my cheek. There’s a tenderness to his touch, the same tenderness he was using with Casey, but instead of comforting me or putting me at ease, it actually makes me a little angry.
Angry because he’s making it so much harder for me not to give in.
If he had grabbed me or tried to manhandle me, it would be so easy to push him away.
But treating me like this? Like I’m something that he cares about, something that he treasures? How am I supposed to react to that?
Lifting my lashes, I force myself to peer up at him. Force myself to meet that intensity head on.
“You tricked me here,” I accuse and watch doubt and guilt pass over his face.
That intensity of his flickers, and I half-expect it to go out completely.
Then it flares back to life, even brighter than before as he asks, “Would you have come if I didn’t?”
Of course I wouldn’t have come because I knew this would happen.
Us alone
, and me ready to make the biggest mistake of my life.
I’ve thought about this a lot over the past twenty-four hours. Entertained the thought of giving in to the attraction. Letting things play out how they would. But after it’s done, how could I go on? How could I possibly live the rest of my miserable life, doing my father’s bidding, after having a taste of what Emmett could give me?
“No, I wouldn’t have come,” I admit.
“That’s exactly why I did it,” he says in a tone that’s completely unapologetic.
The lack of apology has my anger rising. I try to jerk my face away, but he manages to grab my chin, pulling me back to him.
“I did it because you wouldn’t have come otherwise and Casey needed you.”
Wait. What?
I’m so surprised by that revelation, I can’t help but repeat it. “Casey needed me?”
Eyes locked on my eyes, Emmett nods his head without looking away. “Yes, he needed you, Bree.”
Before I can completely come to terms with that, Emmett hits me with another bombshell.
“I need you, Bree.”
Those words, those four little words cause both joy and terror to war inside me.
And ultimately, terror ends up winning.
I’m the last fucking person anyone should need, and if Emmett knew what the hell was good for him and Casey, he’d stay far away from me.
I try to pull away again.
I try to save him.
But, instead of letting me go, he pulls me closer. Wrapping his arm around me tight, his expression darkens.
“Tell me you don’t need me,” he demands, his breath washing over my face. “Tell me after that kiss yesterday, you don’t feel like you’ve finally found what you’ve always been missing.”
If he were Tristan, I’d be downright scared for my life right now.
But he’s not. He’s not that jerkface. And despite the pissed off look on his face, despite the way he’s trapping me, keeping me from fleeing, I know, I know deep down in the marrow of my bones, Emmett would never hurt me.
That’s why I have to end this now. That’s why I have to force these words that slice like razors out of my throat.
