Page 70 of Playing with Fire

Sabrina informed us that we will have dinner at a small restaurant in town. She said to dress casually. Casual wear usually means jeans, but humidity makes them too uncomfortable to wear. Jean shorts casual. That's fine, I guess.

I chose a top to wear before I started exploring the remaining rooms of the house. The doors were all locked as I anticipated but some rooms revealed running water from showers so they must have been bathrooms. One room was left unlocked.

I opened the door and discovered the room had nothing inside except for a middle-floor spinny chair left unused. The room was empty from the moment I entered.

Someone led me into the room and secured the door before I could leave. I spin around and, oh god.

"What are you doing?" I question him about his actions while he presses himself against the door.

"You lied, didn't you?" Instead of answering my questions he poses his own.

"Lied about what?" I'm quick to fire back.

He says, "At diner" and makes my stomach plummet. "You lied at the table."

No, I didn't. "What are you talking about?" I let out a nervous laugh. "This is so pointless." I attempted to walk around him to reach the door after dismissing him.

I expected things to fail yet find myself unable to understand how he managed to trap me against the door. A place I really shouldn't be.

"Don't do that." He stood before me while his tone took on a softer quality.

"Do what?" I said to the ground. "Lie."

Shit.

This is not good. This is not good. I should get out of here. I reached for the doorknob to leave but his hand clasping my wrist shows my escape attempt failed disastrously.

The contact forces me to close my eyes tightly. I feel my wrist burning in a stupidly good way while the desire to stay wins against my need to leave.

"I don't know what you're talking about." I lie right through my teeth again. He knows it. I know it. My floor-staring manner reveals my intentions too clearly.

"Then let me refresh your mind. Our reason for being in the closet escapes me but I remember our presence together in that space. We remained silent for an uncomfortably extended period before you began yelling at me. His explanation starts and my mind spirals into chaos.

I swear he didn't know. He looked clueless at the table. I believed he went back to drink more at the event. I know I didn't see him. I just thought–

"Then you kissed me. Don't you remember that?" I didn't look up because my eyes were locked downward when he asked his question.

The words contact my ears, and I sense my skin reacting against me.

The heat in my cheeks returned to me the moment he described. No no no no no. Could you stop it? I work hard to control my feelings yet when he tilts my chin up to force my gaze upon him, I surrender.

"C'mon Em, I know–"

"OK! Fine!" I snap. You know damn well we kissed so don't pretend you didn't. I stay quieter during that part when I slap his arm away.

That smile on his lips makes me want to slap it away. "I knew you were lying."

"Oh, shut up." With my available hand I push against his shoulder.

I struggle to push my arm away from him but find myself unable to move. I reach for his arm with my second hand to free myself, but he counters my movement by pushing me and holds my hip against the door, so I remain stuck.

Emerson, I will make this direct since we need to get to the heart of the matter. He whispers above me revealing his belief that he won.

Standing this close to him makes maintaining eye contact difficult for me. We stand way too close together and there's excessive contact. Way too much of everything. Dammit.

I can't ignore the last part, though. He thinks he won. I know what he's talking about. We made this wager some time ago. My fear grew when we discussed it last because I sensed he was making progress.

The pain is immense because I understand now how my skin reveals my weakness before his gaze.

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