Page 17 of Beautiful Crazy

“Which really just means I didn’t get to touch Emily before I left for work, and all I do all day is think about touching her and I don’t know why I’m telling my work wife why I want to touch my roommate when I know that sounds all sorts of creepy but—”

“It’s not creepy at all when you’re crushing on someone, and secondly, in case you’ve forgotten, I have my own wife at home, so you can tell me anything. I may be gay but I’m still a woman. I still know what most women want and what they want, dipshit, is to know they’re, at the very least, surrounded by people who love them for who they are and have their back at every moment of any day.”

“I do love her for who she is. And I do have her back.”

“But you didn’t this morning. I have no doubt you made her feel like what she does means less than what you do because she’s lucky enough to do it in her pjs at home. You could work from home too. We all could. What we do is computer based nearly one hundred percent of the time. It’s just that our bosses choose to do what we do in an office environment.”

“She makes more money than I do. Did you know that?”

Cheyenne shakes her head with a smirk. “Then what the fuck are you doing insinuating that she’s not an adult when she’s the one bringing home the bacon?”

I slide both hands through my hair in frustration. “Shit, I don’t know, Chey. It literally just slipped out of my mouth. I didn’t even realize what I had said until she spit back at me and walked away. I felt terrible. I’m sure she jumped in the shower to cry. It’s what she always does. She thinks I can’t hear her in there, so I pretend not to so I don’t upset her even more.”

That makes Cheyenne melt a little. “I know you like her, Emmett.”

“I kissed her, Chey.”

Cheyenne sits back, her eyes growing in shock. “You did? Like, this morning?”

“Over a year ago.”

“Oh.” She frowns. “Did it not go well? That kiss didn’t lead to anything more?”

“The kiss was…fucking glorious, and I can still remember it to this day, but…”

“But…” Chey circles her hand for me to keep going.

“But Emily stopped it and said we should never do that again. She took it as a mistake we made drinking too much together. It was the day I found out about my dad.”

She nods. “Ah. I get it. So, then you never pushed it again after that. Why not?”

I shake my head. “I couldn’t. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. And Emily said no. She stopped it. I wasn’t about to disrespect her like that. I’m not that guy.”

“Yeah, but come on, Emmett. At some point you have to at least tell her how you feel. If you have feelings for her that are more than just friendly, you owe it to both of you to tell her. Otherwise, you’re going to be in agony all the time.”

“You mean like every time she goes out with someone new? Yeah, don’t remind me.”

“That’s exactly what I mean. You don’t want that in your life. If you want her, go after her.”

“What do I do though? I fucked up this morning. I say stupid things a lot, that’s no surprise, but she’s my best friend and I’m falling for her more and more every day.”

“Easy. You put your tail between your legs and apologize. Then do something that will make her smile.” She looks at her watch. “Shit, I gotta run. I have a conference call with a client in ten minutes. Don’t make this harder than it has to be Emmett. It’s an easy fix. I expect a full report in the morning.” She points to me. “Make it right with Emily, got it?”

“Got it. Thanks, Chey.”

“My pleasure.” She winks and walks out of the lunchroom, leaving me to think about her advice. It’s then that I come up with what I think might very well be the perfect plan.

___

I walk through the door of our loft at precisely four o’clock knowing I have an hour to get Emily across town before closing time. She’s in the kitchen when I get there, sipping what is most likely hot cocoa from her favorite panda mug and wearing her favorite panda pajama pants with a white t-shirt and a purple cardigan sweater. None of it matches whatsoever but fuck me if she doesn’t look adorable.

Her hair is tied back loosely at the base of her head giving her neck an elongated appearance. The layers she’s wearing cover up the curve of her hips and the swell of her breasts, but I’ve seen her in a bathing suit. I have a pretty solid idea of what’s under those clothes and one day, by God, I will have my hands and lips on every inch of her.

When I close the door behind me, she jumps and turns my way, a startled expression on her face. She doesn’t say anything. Merely watches me from behind her mug as she takes another sip and I walk toward her.

“Hi.”

She doesn’t have much to say, just takes another sip. This time when she pulls back her mug, she has a big brown chocolate mustache above her lip from her cocoa. It automatically makes me grin because she’s so fucking cute, and she doesn’t even know it.

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