Page 18 of Off-Limits Bad Boy
“Oh, do you, Emma Riley?” There’s a challenge in his voice.
A challenge I want to accept, but don’t dare.
My pulse races as I study him in my space, my home, my safe haven. The distance between hate and love feels perilously thin right now as we study one another like opponents ready to do battle.
If we do this, there’s no turning back.
To my horror, tears sting in my eyes once more.
Chapter Eight
Kade
All our playful banter falls apart as one tear, then a second slide down Emma’s cheek. The conversation dies, and I'm moving before I even register the decision.
She's curling into herself as she sits on the couch, winding her arms around her core in a protective gesture that breaks my heart. I’ve never seen her look so small and breakable.
I sit beside her, close enough that our sides touch. Instinctively, my arms wrap around her, pulling her to me. She fits just right, like she's made to be there.
“Kade...” She chokes out my name, a whisper that sounds like it’s tearing up her throat as she speaks.
“Shh, it's okay,” I say softly, though I know damn well it’s not.
She plants a hand on my chest and shoves as if to put some distance between us. “I'm fine,” she says, swiping angrily at her tears as I give her room to breathe, even though all I want to do is hold her close. Her eyes are brimming with hurt, and her lie is as clear as day. But I’m not about to call her out. I’m here to help, to comfort, not confront.
Unfortunately, my mouth has other ideas. “Emma Riley, you're about as fine as a three-legged chair.” I can't help the concern shouldering through my tone.
I'm itching to find Ryan and rearrange his face. If he's behind those tears... I clench my jaw, my hands balling into fists at the thought. But I force myself to relax because this isn't about me or what I want to do to him.
“Want to tell me what happened?” I ask, trying to keep my voice and question neutral.
“Ryan...” Her voice breaks, and she looks away, her light brown curls shifting on her arms. Without warning, she throws her head forward and ties her hair up with a hair tie she removes from her wrist before settling into place, refusing to look at me again.
“Hey.” I reach out, tucking a stray lock behind her ear. “You don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to.” I don’t want her to feel pressured. I want to be a safe haven if she needs someone, not another stressor to navigate.
“Thanks, Kade,” she whispers, her blue eyes meeting mine.
“Anything he did,” I say, my tone darkening, “anything at all, I swear I'll make him regret it. Soup spoon style.”
A laugh bubbles up from her, despite the tears—a sound that hits me square in the chest.
“I’d forgotten about that,” she says, recalling the memory of Alex threatening to castrate her first ex-boyfriend with a soup spoon. The memory feels warm, and the moment between us seems to soften.
I take a deep breath, leaning in closer. “I’m here. And you already know I want you, so I’m not hiding or lying about a damn thing.”
She lets out a sharp laugh at my words, clearly not taking me seriously. But I don’t know how I can be more clear. She sobers up and swallows hard, her gaze fixed on a spot past my shoulder. “He... he thought we were more. That I'd want more.” Her voice cracks, and it's like I can feel the break tear right through me.
“More?” I ask, pretty sure I know what she’s implying, but not wanting to jump to conclusions.
“Like relationship more,” she says, her eyes sad once more.
I nod, understanding all too well the games people play. “Guys can be real jerks, pretending to be a friend when they're after something else.” I’m guilty of the same - but that’s a game I don’t play anymore.
“Exactly.” She bites her lip, looking down at her hands twisting in her lap. “I trusted him. And now I just feel stupid.”
“Hey, look at me,” I say.
She raises her eyes, and there's so much vulnerability that it takes everything I have not to pull her into my arms again. But I do it anyway and she melts into my chest. “You're not stupid, Emma. Not by a long shot.”