Page 14 of Off-Limits Bad Boy

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Page 14 of Off-Limits Bad Boy

I park, finding myself outside her place. Surprised, but unwilling to pass up this opportunity, I cut the engine and get out of my car.

The bell above her apartment door chimes as I knock. My heart hammers away, echoing the sound of my knuckles on the wood. The door swings open, and there she is—Emma, looking like she's seen a ghost. She blocks the narrow opening of the door with her body as one hand comes up to hold her throat.

“Hey,” I say, but her eyes are wide, nervous, and tick from me to something behind her.

“Why are you here?” she asks, her voice low and measured.

“Your brother's worried about you,” I say, forcing a grin. “Thought I'd check in. And, you know, make amends.”

“Make amends...” She seems confused for a moment, then nods once. “Okay. Done. Thanks.” With that, she moves back a few inches, and the door begins to close. I’m so stunned I don’t form a thought - much less words - before the door clicks closed.

“Wait.” I knock again, hoping she can’t hear the urgency in my knuckles.

The door opens, once again just enough for her to squeeze her body in like a cork stopper to a wine bottle. Irritation shimmers in her eyes, and I can’t help but wonder what I’m missing. I rise up on tiptoe as if I can see over her, but she steps back and closes the door all but a few inches.

“Can I come in?” I ask.

Her gaze flits behind her, telling me the truth even if her lips refuse to. With a silent shake of her head, I'm left wondering what she’s hiding... and who she’s with.

“Emma,” I say, sensing another presence—something, someone, lurking just beyond my line of sight. Jealousy claws up my throat, uninvited and fierce. It's irrational, this feeling; she doesn't belong to me.

But damn if I don't want her to.

I lean against her doorframe, trying to keep the mood light. “You alone in there? Blink twice if you're in trouble.” The line is stale, plucked from a hundred old movies, but I toss it out, anyway.

Emma rolls her eyes, the exasperation clear even through those baby blues that always seem to see right through me. And she opens the door a bit more, positioning her body half-out of the apartment, blocking the view inside like she's guarding some state secret.

“I'm fine, Kade,” she says, and there's a snap in her voice, a bite that wasn't there before. Almost like my presence and comments are unwelcome. Her tone is a slap in the face, and I try to regain my balance.

“Okay,” I say, ready to ask for clarification, but she's already shutting me out, closing the door with a finality that feels like a punch to the gut.

I knock again. I can't help myself. It's like I'm hooked on this push and pull between us. The door inches open and Emma’s there, frustration etched into every inch of her features. She's running out of patience, and I know I should back off, but I don't.

I can’t.

“Can we talk? About the other night?” My voice is rough around the edges, and I'm practically begging. Desperation isn't a good look on anyone, especially not on me. It’s also an alien feeling - I’ve never had to beg for a damn thing in life, so why am I starting now?

She doesn't say anything at first, just stares down at the ground, her shoulders hunched like she wants to disappear into herself. When she finally looks up, there’s something uncertain and almost vulnerable in her gaze.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she says, and her fingers twitch like she's ready to close the door again.

“Emma, please—” But she's already closed it, the soft click of the latch echoing in the empty alcove of a stoop before her apartment, leaving me staring at the wooden barrier between us and wondering what’s going on. Worry fills me. What is going on?

A sickening feeling in the pit of my gut and an internal whisper leave me feeling sick. She’s with someone. Right now. And she doesn't want me to know.

The quiet that follows is loud, filling my head in a deafening manner that has me feeling hollow, like an echo of a human being.

I have no right to feel possessive of her, but I do.

She’s not mine, but I want her to be.

This thing between us, this attraction—it's potent, dangerous, even. And it's only getting harder to ignore with every passing second.

I lift my knuckles and knock again. This will be the last time, I promise myself. But I know I’m lying. The wood under my knuckles leaves my hand aching, but I don't give a damn.

The door jerks open and I’m met with Emma’s blazing eyes. There’s a sharp air of rising anger in her, and something else I can't quite place. “What now, Kade?” The words sound like a challenge thrown between us.

“Clearing the air seems like a good idea,” I say, trying to keep my voice even. “According to Alex, you’ve been off since that night.”




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