Page 98 of Breaking the Rules
"Yeah," I say.
"She wants to go home with the hot tattoo artist. Not"—She gives my outfit another long once-over—"the guy who works at a bank."
Collin chuckles. "That is a bank look."
"You could have said that before we left," I say.
"I know." Her lips curl into a smile. "But then I wouldn't be able to make you all awkward and uncomfortable."
"How long have you guys known each other?" Collin's voice is shaky. Threatened.
"Too long," Emma says. "He was my brother's best friend when they were kids."
"Oh." Collin studies my expression. "So he's like an older brother to you?"
"Yeah." Emma's gaze flits from Collin to me. "A stuffy, no fun, over-protective older brother."
Collin's expression relaxes.
"And she's a total brat," I say.
"Oh, a brat, huh?" Emma raises a brow. "I've heard about that one."
Oh fuck no. My head is not going there. I'm not thinking of Emma throwing back sassy responses to my dirty demands.
No fucking way.
"Is that part of your daddy thing?" Emma asks.
No.
That's bullshit.
But if Emma is into it—
I want her however I can have her.
In my car. At the shop. On the fucking moon.
It doesn't matter as long as she's groaning my name.
Emma turns to the entrance and clears her throat.
She's watching Alice walk inside.
Alice looks gorgeous in her flowing floral print dress.
But staring at her only makes me think of all the ways she compares to Emma.
She's shorter. Softer. Less sassy.
Less interesting.
Completely uninteresting.
That's not fair. She's nice. Pretty. Smart. Honest.
But she's not Emma.
