Page 58 of Take It Offline

“If you say devil’s advocate, I’ll kick your ass.”

I waggle my brows at her. “Promise?”

She huffs a laugh, finally losing the tension that’s kept her shoulders up by her ears. The collar of her candy-colored sweater dips low enough I’ll be lucky to concentrate if Ford ever shows up.

We’re meant to be meeting with the Operations lead, Geoffrey Ford, but there’s no sign of him. Yeah, he’s a busy guy, and if he couldn’t make the meeting, his admin should have canceled. But that’s not what’s bothering me.

It’s that Emma is treating this so casually. Like this shit happens to her all the time.

Fifteen minutes later, she’s fidgeting, clearly as desperate for a break as I am, but her stubborn streak is stronger than I thought.

Giving up all pretense of working, I lean back, hands clasped over my stomach. “Dear diary, my fucks have vanished. There wasn’t a note, but they changed the Hulu password so I can’t watchThe Bear.”

The look she gives me is full of contained glee. I want to rip open that vault door so wide the hinges can never be repaired.

For weeks, I’ve been attempting to get under her skin, to itch, to pick. But now I want to look closer, find what’s really underneath the buttoned-up front she wears so well. I want to know what makes her tick.

Finally, she pushes her laptop away. The buttons across her chest fight for their lives as she crosses her arms. I know the feeling.

“You don’t like to take life too seriously, do you?” she asks.

“I’ll take things that are overrated for four hundred.”

Her brow raises. “I didn’t take you for aJeopardyfan.”

I shrug. “My parents love it. Reese and I made a game of it when we were kids.”

“Reese is your…?”

“Sister. A year younger in age and half decade older in maturity.”

There’s a question in her eyes. In the way she sinks her teeth into her bottom lip. One she’s wanted to ask since that phone call. It’s the same question Reese and I always get. What was it like? Are you okay?

As if our childhood is a true-crime story ripe for amateur investigation.

I let her chew on it for a moment, waiting to see what she’ll do.

“You said something,” she says, “when you drove me home the first time. Before we…”

Before we kissed. Oh, I remember.

“You knew that building,” she finishes.

Trust Emma to find a new angle. I should know better than to underestimate her.

Talking about my past is a surefire mood killer, which is why I rarely bring it up. Shit happened, I lived through it, the end.

A few weeks ago, no amount of money could have convinced me to open up to her. But she’s been brave enough to bare herself, fucking literally, so I give fear the finger and answer the question.

“I lived there a few years back, though it seems like forever ago now. Bit of a tight fit with the two of us. Reese snores like a freight train, so be grateful you don’t have to deal with that. But it was ours, and that made it better than anywhere else. I didn’t mean to be an ass about it. Of all the places I’d imagined you living,” and now she knows I’ve been thinking about it, “that was the last one I expected.”

“Most people wouldn’t imagine me there.” She lifts a shoulder, going for casual, but the way she’s staring at her hands tells me it’s a sore subject. “So, you and Reese moved here together?”

It was the first time I felt like I was moving toward something good. No more jumping around, trying to fit in. We had each other, and we were going to make our own home.

“Yeah. Reese got into vet school here, so the decision was easy, even if the living conditions were a little cramped.”

Her expression softens. “I’m sorry for getting defensive about it. It’s certainly not because I have a problem living there. Though it’d be nice if the little knob thingy in the tub wasn’t broken so I could remember what it’s like to wash my hair standing up, but?—”

---