Page 36 of For Emery

I grabbed Emery’s hands.

Her eyes dropped to our linked fingers. “What are you doing?”

“Dancing with you. Though, I’d say our night under the big tree might’ve been more memorable.”

Her head shot back. “You remember that?”

“Of course I remember that.”

She swallowed down hard, my words obviously affecting her. “Flip’s gonna be wondering where I am,” she said. “I came with him.”

“Flip!” I shouted across the dance floor toward the bar where he stood.

“What are you doing?” Emery said, ducking her head into my chest.

Flip didn’t hear me, but other people got his attention for me. He turned and his eyes found me, narrowing when he spotted Emery with me.

“I’m gonna dance with Emery!” I called to him before turning us away from him.

Emery pulled her head back and looked up at me. A flicker of amusement lit her eyes. “Why’d you do that?”

“Weren’t you just the one who told me not to play games? To make things clear?”

“To a girl.”

“Flip’s as feminine as they come. And by the way, he didn’t say you couldn’t dance with me.”

She rolled her eyes. “Obviously. He’s not my boyfriend. And even if he was, no one tells me what to do.”

I pulled her against my chest, moving my hips playfully against hers as I held our linked hands out to our sides.

She laughed but tried to resist dancing, forcing our hands down and standing still.

I didn’t give up that easily, holding her closer. And soon her resistance waned.

The song eventually turned to a slow one. Emery tried to move back which just made me drop our hands so I could wrap my arms around her waist. She tensed. But with our bodies that close and me showing no signs of releasing her, she had no choice but to wrap her arms around my neck and move with me.

I buried my nose in her hair. The faint scent of coconut worked its way into my senses. She hadn’t worn anything scented when we were kids. Back then she smelled like whatever we’d done that day. “You were right,” I said.

She lifted her head so she could see my eyes. “About what?”

“You are a good dancer.”

Her perky little nose scrunched. “When did I say that?”

“When you told me I should take you to that high school dance with me.”

She snickered. “You should’ve.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe you remember so much.”

I leaned in to her ear. “You were the best part of my childhood, Em. Of course I remember.”

“Why do you keep calling me Em?”

“Because we’re starting over. My new best friend—and lucky charm—is Em.”

“Am I your best friend?”

“I sure hope so.”

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