Page 47 of That Last Secret
“Yeah,” I say, clearing my throat and sounding more nervous than I intended to. “It’s no problem at all.”
In all the years I’ve been friends with the Ford brothers, they’ve never once visited my apartment. This sounds weird since they are my best friends, but we’ve always done everything at Tommy or Marc’s place.
Besides, shelivesin the same building as me, and Iamgoing back that way.
Fuck my life.
I can’t deny that I want to be close to her. I want her in the passenger seat of my truck, on back of my bike, taking over every space she can. But the words exchanged during the game and being as close as I was to her stirred something inside of me, something that’s been building for months now that I’ve fought like hell to shake off.
Yet again, I try to remind myself I can’t go down that road with her, but my mind doesn’t seem to want to cooperate.
I finally turn around to find Emiline sitting by the fire on her phone. Her eyes are glassy, her cheeks flush.
“Ready to go, Emmy?” I ask her.
She lifts her eyes but not her head. The look is downright murderous, and rightfully so. She hates it when I call her that. “Yup,” she says, popping the p. “I’m just waiting for my Uber.”
“Logan is giving you a ride back,” Thomas says before I can. “You’re not getting an Uber this late.”
Her head snaps up and her eyes dart between Thomas and I. “I’m fine, Tommy.”
“I have no doubt.” He nods in agreement. “But I’d feel a lot better if Logan took you back.”
She turns her head to look at me and I can’t tell what she’s thinking right now. I’d like to believe the thoughts running through her head are good thoughts of being around me—close to me. But she might also be thinking to murder me.
“Fine,” Emiline says with an argumentative tone as she gets up from the chair. Her body sways just the slightest bit as she clicks through her phone to cancel the ride and makes her rounds.
I don’t take my eyes off her for a single second as she says goodbye to the girls and her brothers.
Once we get in the truck, tension fills every nook and cranny. Not even the sharpest knife could slice through the thickness of it all. It’s not like I haven’t given Emiline a ride before, and my motorcycle is much more personal as far as proximity goes, for fuck’s sake. I’m making this way more awkward than it needs to be, but the quiet in this small space is just too much.
Relax, Logan.
“Thanks for the ride,” she says flatly.
I nod, keeping my eyes fixed on the highway and not on the long, tan, and exposed legs on the passenger seat in denim shorts. I remind myself I can’t stare and put us at risk of crashing this car.
We ride in silence for the next five minutes, and I expect this to be the case for the rest of our short trip home.
“Can I ask you a favor?” Emiline says, breaking the silence.
“Sure.”
“Can you stop calling me Emmy?”
That’s the last thing I expected her to ask for.
“I think I can do that.” I smile and glance her way quickly to notice her eyes on the road ahead of us.
Emiline gives a tight nod. “It makes me feel like a little girl,” she admits.
I stay silent because I’m not sure how to respond.
“And I’m not a kid anymore.”
“You’re not.”
I can feel her eyes on me now without even having to look in her direction.