Page 53 of Admittedly For Me
“I can’t admit that.”
“Yet.” She looks down at her phone. “Carson and I are going out for the day,” she responds with a soft voice and thankfully drops the other conversation. “I can wait, if you’d like to join.”
“Thanks, but I’m actually going to pack and get ready for tomorrow.” I grab my favorite old Hollywood mug out of the cupboard. “I’m going to Vegas with Savannah and Hallie.” I feel giddy about getting to explore a new place with my childhood best friends. “Savannah’s student has a dance thing, and we could use fun a girls night.”
“That sounds exciting.” Aunt Quinn sets her coffee down, giving me her full attention. “You’ll enjoy all the fancy places to eat.”
“Exactly, and I’ll be farther away from this town.” I clear my throat and reach for the coffee. “Vegas will be an upper after the hospital event you faced last night.” In theory, it’s a happy expansion for the hospital, but it came at a cost.
“Last night hurt my heart too, Emery.” She walks closer, and I prepare for the tension to take over my body. Her arms wrap around me, and I find myself relaxing into the embrace. “I cried myself to sleep.” My heart races, and I distract myself by grabbing the milk from the fridge. “But I woke up feeling better.”
“I’m glad you found something that helps you.” I lean against the counter and bring my mug to my chest, as if I can hide behind it. “Everyone deals with things differently.”
“Emery.” Her disapproving tone kicks in just as her phone lights up on the counter with Carson’s name.
“Go pick him up,” I encourage. “Seriously. You deserve to have a fun day.” I settle for a hug before she leaves and open the cupboard to pour a cheap bowl of cereal. For once, I don’t have it in me to cook. Tossing my hair in a messy bun, I get a load of laundry going and tidy up the kitchen. I make tea and crack open my recipe book that I’ve barely had time to look over since being here. Most of these recipes are what I plan to create for a cookbook. Selling one in my own bistro is a dream I’m working toward.
A soft knock hits the front door, but I ignore it and begin to head up the stairs. I’m not in a peopling mood, but Ian walks right in anyway. I turn to face him, enjoying being able to look down at him for once.
“Good, you’re home.” He’s in a dark blue t-shirt and beige Carharts.
“How about you don’t barge into people’s homes.”Dammit, this look is too distracting and hot. “And,good, I’m home?” I’m more nervous about being called out for leaving when I’d rather we forget about it and keep it as a nice memory.
“I tried to call.” He shrugs. “I need the sweatshirt you took last night. It’s my only one.” If he wants to bring up what happened, his face is showing no signs of it. I’m almost annoyed because, in Ian fashion, he should be pushing for answers or triggering me tofeel.
“It’snotyour only one.” I cross my arms over my chest and feel my dress rise. “It’s currently in the wash.”
His eyes stay to mine, not even acknowledging how short this dress is. A smirk grows across his face. “It’s the new design for the company’s attire. I would like to get my employees’ approval before I order a bunch for them to wear.”
“Now you’re a clothing designer, bar owner, and contractor CEO?” I take a step forward.
“Can you please go get it? I can give it back to you after.” I’m not sure how my expression is right now. I’m not sure what angle he’s trying to come at me. “You probably looked adorable wearing it home last night.”
“I have to pack. Savannah is going to be here bright and early tomorrow.” I wait for him to reply, and he holds my gaze, irritating me even more. “Is that all you’re here for? Just the sweatshirt?”
“I’d love to take you back to my place and we work through our shit together, but I’m sure that’s not on your agenda.” His tone remains smooth, like it would be so simple to do. “So, if you want to forget like it never happened, then I’m supporting you once again.”
Feeling my eyes narrow, I know it’s not that easy for me to ride off into the sunset with him. Yet here he stands, making peace. Fine, we can both forget it. If he realized one night isn’t worth fighting for more, it makes me skipping town that much easier.Not that I want him to keep fighting for me.
“You’ll have to be patient.” Which should be easy because he’s never been anything but with me. “You can pick it up tomorrow or tonight.”
“You can stop the washer.” A professional tone remains, and irritation crawls through my skin.“I’m here now.” Why is getting what I wanted feeling so shitty?
“Are you fucking kidding me?” My voice cracks. Maybe I did read last night wrong.
“No. The team and I are meeting up for a barbecue, Emery.” His arms rests on the stair railing as he makes himself more comfortable. “You should know by the multiple times I’ve sucked your pussy that I don’t shy away from wetness.”There’s no time to hide my expression. Or how my body reminds me of how it felt.
“So, are we going to talk about it?” I take a step down, bringing myself closer, yet I can’t bring myself to say what we did out loud.
“Go ahead,” he encourages, but I shake my head, chickening out.
“Where are you and Savannah going tomorrow morning?” Not what I meant, and he knows it. What happened to the guy I was with last night? Why am I caring?
“Vegas. Hallie and I are joining Savannah on her dance trip.”
“Sounds fun. Alright, if you don’t want to stop the washer for your other clothes, are you able to drop the sweatshirt off tonight?”
My teeth find my lip as I stand on the stairs in confusion. “I’ll bring it to you.”