Page 41 of Beautiful Crazy

Also, I had this huge urge to watch porn today. Like, really good, really loud porn, but I’m not about to do that when my desk is near the living room window and Emmett would surely walk out and see what I’m up to. Ugh. Why is he doing this and why does he think it’s fun for me?

So now here I am trying to cook what I thought would be a fun dinner with Emmett, when in actuality I’m wound so damn tight I feel like a ticking time bomb. I pull the marinating chicken from the refrigerator and a sauté pan from the cupboard. Then I grab my phone and connect it to the Bluetooth speaker that sits on the shelf next to the window. I choose to listen to my favorite country music playlist so I can drown my frustrations in someone else’s feelings while I attempt this new recipe.

But seriously, would it have been a major inconvenience for Emmett to just let my towel fall?

He was shirtless. I was shirtless. He could’ve at least teased me with a little skin on skin.

Maybe sneak a finger under my towel.

Is that so much to ask?

He could’ve at least kissed me for Pete’s sake.

Rather than get me all hot and bothered and then fucking walk away like he doesn’t care.

“Is that what you think?” Hearing his voice so close behind me is like the match lighting my fuse.

“Huh?” I spring around and see him leaning on one shoulder against the refrigerator, watching me. “What do you mean?”

He scoffs out a light chuckle. “I mean you were talking to yourself just now. Something about why I didn’t kiss you this morning instead of walking away like I didn’t care. Is that what you really think? That I don’t care?”

“I…”

I’m a deer caught in headlights. My stomach is suddenly woozy, and I feel like I’m about to sweat. What can I possibly say that isn’t going to either be a lie or make me feel ridiculously uncomfortable?

“I…”

Head up.

Shoulders back.

Be confident.

“Okay, you know what?”

He grins. “What?”

“I think you know you drive me crazy, Emmett Fox. I think you heard what I said to April today and you decided to have fun at my expense. You’ve been driving me crazy for this entire…stupid day.”

Emmett’s mouth forms a half smile. “Anything else you need to say?”

“What? No. I don’t really feel like talking to you, anyway.”

He nods toward the stove where I’m standing. “How’s the chicken?”

“What do you mean, how’s the chicken?” I repeat, a little annoyed.

“I mean, is it done, and if it’s not done, how much longer do you need?”

“Oh.” I turn back to check it, flipping it one more time with the tongs in my hand, but I don’t get the chance to turn back around before Emmett is right behind me.

I swallow the lump of nerves suddenly in my throat. “It’s done.”

“Good.” Emmett switches off the burner and covers the chicken with a lid and then slides the tongs off my fingers, laying them on the spoon rest. “Dance with me.” His voice is in my ear and it’s his delicious porno voice that makes me all mushy inside.

“Why?”

His lips are at my ear. His stubble scraping against my skin. “Just dance with me, Em.”

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