Page 48 of Beautiful Harmony

The door opened, and his guilt grew when he saw Emma. She looked tired and sad, and he fucking hated that it was his fault.

“Lucas?” She stared cautiously at him. “What are you doing here?”

“We have a knitting lesson.” He held out his bag of knitting, his hands sweaty and his heart thumping.

She stared at him for almost thirty seconds before stepping back. Relief swept over him, and he stepped inside, closing the door behind him and taking off his jacket and shoes. He followed Emma into the living room. She stood silently by her gaming chair, her arms folded across her torso.

Her hair was damp and piled in a bun on top of her head, and her face was free of makeup. She wore blue checkered pajama bottoms, and although she wore a zipped-up hoodie, he could tell she wasn’t wearing a bra.

He swallowed hard and reminded himself that she would never let him be anything more than a friend. As silent tension drifted between them, he searched for something neutral to say and landed on, “I like your pajama pants.”

He cringed inwardly as she glanced down at herself. “Thanks. I just got out of the bath.”

Immediately his mind was inundated with images of Emma wet and naked. His cock hardened, and he shoved the plastic knitting bag in front of his crotch as sweat slid down his back. “How was it? Your bath?”

Oh, my sweet baby Jesus, man.

A little line appeared between her eyebrows. “It was good. So, uh, let’s get started on the lesson.”

“Right,” he said and followed her into the kitchen. He eased into a chair, watching silently as Emma made them both green tea.

“It’s cold today,” she said.

“Might snow,” he said.

She sank into the chair beside him, and he pulled out his knitting. “I worked on it the other night and thought it was going great, but I only have twenty-seven stitches now instead of thirty. I dropped three stitches somehow.”

She took his knitting from him and studied it carefully. “It looks like you dropped two in this row and one in this row.”

“Can it be fixed, or do I need to frog it?”

The tiniest smile crossed her face. “You know knitting terminology now?”

“I’m trying to win the best student award, Emma,” he said.

He sounded like he was flirting, and he cursed himself in his head. “Sorry.”

She glanced at him. “For dropping stitches?”

“Yes. No, for… shit, for last night and my reaction and for being so goddamn impatient and hurting you. I’m so fucking sorry, Emma.”

He hadn’t meant to blurt that out.

Her face turned pink, her birthmark darkening to a deeper red, as she stared woodenly at the knitting. “You don’t have to apologize, Lucas.”

“Yes, I do,” he said. “I really do.”

“No, you don’t.” She finally looked at him, and he hated the embarrassment in her gaze. “I was the one who told you to… to fuck me. It’s not your fault it hurt.”

They sat in silence for nearly two minutes before Lucas said. “I hate that we’re fighting again.”

“We’re not fighting,” she said. “But last night -”

“Don’t say it was a mistake,” he said. “Please.”

She swallowed hard. “Your friendship is very important to me, and last night nearly destroyed it. Hell, things are still tense and awkward as fuck between us, and I don’t think that’ll ever go away.”

“It might if we have a do-over,” he said.

---