Page 63 of The Heir

“Me, too–I have feelings for you, too.” he smiled. “I am glad that you have feelings for me.”

Shad drove me home in my car, saying he would get his car later. He turned off the engine when we arrived at my house, and he got out and seemed torunaround to my door, because he was there in one heartbeat, opening it up for me. He took my hand and led me up the sidewalk to the driveway.

He wants me to have feelings for him. He has feelings for me.I repeated that over and over again in my head, still shocked.

When we approached my house, his eyes were, again, on the sky.

“That was so beautiful. I can’t stop thinking about it.” I looked at my shoes as I spoke, giving up hope that we could talk about what was happening between us. I was sure he had to be feeling it, too. It was like an electric or a magnetic force, pulling me to him, wanting him with me. But I was a coward. I couldn’t bring it up.

“I'm glad you enjoyed it,” he said politely. As we walked up my driveway and reached the front door, I stood there for a moment, wondering if there was anything more he might say—or tell me. “Emma, I am different,” he said with his eyes still watching the evening sky.

“Different? Different how, like with your secret rose obsession? Or your prep-school clothing choices?” I smirked at him. He looked at me and smiled. It was a small smile, and it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Yes.” He moved his weight from side to side, looking at me. “Emma, I do not know the best way to go about doing this.” He ran his fingers through his hair, a signal he gave when he was thinking hard about something, but maybe, it was also something he did when he was nervous.

Do I make him nervous?

“But I want to tell you–” he paused.

“Just say it—that’s usually the best way,” I added, walking closer to him, wondering how we had gotten so far apart and why he was no longer holding my hand.

“I am only afraid that if I tell you, you won’t want to see me anymore. But that should not stop me, yet it does, time and time again, I am a coward,” he whispered.

I could not think of anything he could do to make that a possibility.

“You are not a coward. And you will not lose me. That won’t happen, Shad. We are friends.” I touched his shoulder to comfort him.

He laughed, “friends, yes—” He closed his eyes.

“Yes?” I said softly. He looked at my face, and a warm smile came to his lips. He was more than just a friend, so much more. Then my song for him sped up, and then quickly, it slowed down again. I tried to hide my confusion but wondered if I was having a seizure or something.

“Can you hearthat—feelthat, Emma?”

“What?” I whispered as the song I made up for him blasted and blared inside of me. He looked back and forth into my eyes, waiting for me to say more. I did not know what else to say, and he looked down.

“Nothing,” he said, putting his hands inside his pockets, shaking his head. “Never mind, I should go. I am grateful for your patience.” I watched as he took one hand out of his pocket. Watched as he reached out and brushed a stray strand of hair behind my ear and trailed a thumb down my cheek until he touched my lips. I closed my eyes, imagining his thumb was his lips against mine in the kiss I so desperately longed for. “Thank you, Emma, for letting me show you the creek. Thank you for confiding in me about your parents. I am sorry for your great loss. I think they would be proud of you.” His lips were so closeto mine—I realized as I opened my eyes. I could feel his hot breath on my face. I looked into his eyes, and I could see a struggle there within him. Was he struggling to contain himself, just as I was? I blinked, and in the next moment, his hands were back inside his pockets, and he was backing away from me. “Goodnight, darling,” he barely spoke on the evening air as he turned and walked down the steps, taking his beautiful song with him into the night.

Chapter Eighteen

Iplaced my phone on the counter in the bathroom. I saw the yellow rose, there, from Shad. I stared at it, making sure I was really seeing it. I reached out and touched its yellow petals, and one fell off. Nothing odd had happened with any roses moving about or with my dad’s watch reappearing, and I was grateful for that; however, I still made mental notes about where I left things within my room, especially the roses. I got into the shower. The heat on my cold body caused me to screech, and I quickly adjusted the temperature.

Once I was out of the shower and dressed, I sat on the edge of my bed, holding my phone in my hands, ready to text Ryker.

Emma:Hey, are you doing okay? Will you be back for Homecoming? Sam finally asked Ash. Miss you.

Ryker:I’m out of town, might be longer than I thought.

His response was almost immediate.

Emma:Your dad said a relative is sick?

Ryker:Yeah, you talked to my dad?

Emma:No, Mary told me, she talked to your dad, I guess.

Ryker:Well, I am doing some research. Promise you won’t be mad?

Emma:I think we need to call the police. You're driving me crazy over this. I do want to find my parents' murderer, but not at the expense of your happiness, Ry.

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