Page 108 of There's No Us Without You
The two men are almost chest to chest now, while Emerson’s body is vibrating, his hands fisted at his sides.
“Please, Em,” I say, grabbing his arm to pull him away. “Let’s just go. Tony didn’t mean anything, okay? It’s just a misunderstanding.”
Tony frowns, but then clears his throat. “Right. A misunderstanding.”
It’s only when Carter calls out that he’ll meet us at the house that Emerson shakes his head. “Fine. Let’s go,” he says, running a hand through his hair. Before he stalks off, he points at Tony. “Remember what I said.”
Tony sucks his cheeks in but says nothing as he stares after us. With a quick glance over my shoulder when Emerson places a hand on my lower back and leads me out the front entrance, I can’t help but wonder what he was going to say.
There’s a sadness in his eyes I’ve never observed before, possibly because he hides it. Or because I’ve just never noticed—or cared enough.
When we reach his car, Emerson pulls me against his chest. “You okay? What the hell was that?”
“I’m fine. I had it handled, Em. He’s my boss, for crying out loud.”
Emerson pulls back, his face contorting as he grips onto my shoulders. “And if he grabs you again, I will cut his damn fingers off. I don’t give a fuck who he is. No-one touches you like that, you hear me?”
I swallow hard. He sounds so much like Will right now.
Tony’s going to be pissed about this, but something inside me loves the way Emerson stepped in. Just like Will did with Kent.
I’m not willing to push my luck and argue with him, so I smile, placing a hand on his chest. “Take me home, big guy. I’ve had enough stress for one night.”
Eyes softening, Emerson rubs his hands up and down my arms. “Fine. Now get that arse in the car, Pop-Tart.” Holding his hand out, he nods to my bag slung over my shoulder. “Keys?”
“Oh, right.” I grab his keys and drop them into his awaiting hand, careful not to touch him.
I’m not sure how much I can restrain myself right now, and I don’t need the added pressure of fighting with my hormones.
Emerson opens the passenger door for me, so I climb in and check my reflection in the mirror on the sun visor. My cheeks are flushed, and I have dark circles under my eyes, likely because of the lack of sleep I got last night.
Once he’s in the driver’s seat, Emerson starts the engine then pulls out of the carpark and onto the road.
He keeps one hand on the steering wheel, the other on my thigh, his long fingers drumming in time to the beat of the music. “So,” he says, giving me a sideways glance. “Tell me all about your night? Did you ace it?”
I grin, then go into detail until I’m almost breathless. Emerson doesn’t interrupt me, just listens to me rant, nodding in certain places. The soft smile on his lips, and the way he tilts his head, lets me know he cares what I have to say, and he’s genuinely interested in my life.
When I’m finished, he squeezes my thigh. “That’s awesome, baby. I’m proud of you for going after what you want.” His voice drops at the end, and I can’t read his expression.
He called me baby again. What does that even mean now that we’ve kissed? Did I misread the situation last night?
“Listen.” Emerson grabs my hand as though he just read my mind. “I’m sorry about running out on you last night.” He sighs, keeping his eyes on the road. “I should have talked to you about what I was feeling instead of being a coward.”
All the air rushes out of my lungs. I knew this conversation was coming eventually, so I swallow down the lump in my throat. If he’s going to reject me for a second time, it’s probably best I don’t look at him.
“It’s fine,” I say, keeping my focus out the windscreen.
We’re closer to home now, so the streetlights are fewer, the residential areas quieter than in town, which means this conversation isn’t going to be very long.
“It’s not,” Emerson says, unlinking his hand from mine and running it through his curls. “But I’ve been thinking about it all day, and as much as I want you, I just can’t risk it. You understand, right?”
That’s not the response I expected. Or wanted.
“Right.” My focus goes to the side window just as a semitrailer hauls past us, kicking up some dust from the side of the road, and flicking rocks at the Jeep.
“Hey.” Emerson grabs my hand again. “Trust me—fuck. I don’t regret it, but if it happens again, I’m not sure it’ll remain a touch-free zone. I need to show my coach I can do this. It’s not forever.”
Everything inside me shrinks, and my stomach drops, my heart constricting.
