Page 96 of Outcast
Every few minutes, I glanced at the door, eager for Emory’s arrival. He’d said he was finishing something up before he could join us, and I was trying to play it cool.
But nothing got past my brothers.
“Are you anxious to leave or waiting for someone to come through that door?” Holden asked with a smirk.
Axel slung an arm around my neck, hanging on me. “Are we not good enough company? I’m hurt.”
I rolled my eyes. “I like hanging with you guys.”
“But not as much as with Emory,” Holden guessed.
“Oh, Emory, how I love you.” Axel wrapped his arms around his head and pretended to make out. “Mm-mmm, you taste so golden and perfect, Emory.”
“Shut up,” I said as Emory came through the door.
Axel was too caught up in his performance to listen. “I love you, Emory! I need you. You’re so pretty and so sweet, and so sexy with your perfect golden hair and your perfect smile and your perfect fucking life?—”
I clapped a hand over Axel’s mouth, forcefully muzzling him as Emory arrived at the table. “My life’s not perfect.”
“He’s drunk,” I said, grunting as he elbowed me. “And an asshole.”
Axel wrestled free of me. “No offense meant, Emory. It was a compliment. Gray’s in luuurrve?—”
I jumped from my chair, giving Axel’s head a shove. “C’mon, Em. Let’s go get you a drink. Maybe Axel will be done running his mouth by the time we get back.”
I gave him a pointed look that he better knock it off. Axel held up his hands in peace, snickering. “Sorry, I’ll be good. Scout’s honor.”
“You were never a Scout,” Holden said.
I put my hand against Emory’s lower back, urging him toward the bar. “Sorry about that, golden boy. He’s been doing shots.”
Emory waited with me at the bar while I waved over the bartender and ordered a couple of beers on tap.
“Do you call me golden boy because you think my life is perfect?” he asked suddenly.
“No.” He raised a challenging eyebrow. “Okay, maybe at first, I did. You’ve got it pretty good. Upper-class family, banking business. You were the prom king, for fuck’s sake.”
Emory winced. “That was a million years ago.”
“More like ten, but who’s counting?”
“Me, actually.” Emory picked up the pint glass the bartender delivered and took a swig. “I was planning our high school reunion tonight.”
“No kidding?”
“Yeah. I’ll make sure you get an invite. Sasha didn’t have you on the list because you left town, but now you’re back.”
“School was never really my thing. I don’t think anyone will miss me there.”
“I would.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t look twice when we were in high school. No offense, but I don’t need a reminder of those days.”
He bit down on his lip, looking away. Damn, had I hurt his feelings?
“I don’t mean to be a dick. It’s just…it’s not really a place I fit in.”
“Okay.” Emory hesitated. “I know as foster kids, you all had it tough, and we didn’t make it better for you. I wish we had. I wish I’d known you back then.”
