She crossed her arms over her chest, looking downrighttickled. “How about the part where I offered to let you fuck me?”
I choked on nothing. I didn’t even know that was possible. “I hate how blunt you are sometimes,” I said, voice strained. It was admirable yet disastrous the level at which Delilah Chase did not give a fuck about things.
She chuckled. A low, rasping, sexy thing, and I wanted to die for thinking so. “Bet you didn’t tune that out.” She plantedher hands on the desk, leaning back with a pleased smirk. “Bet you’ve been thinking about it all week, and that’s why you’ve been hiding from me.”
The fraying restraint I had unraveled a little more. She flicked her hair off her shoulder, lifting her chin with an air of triumph. But I refused to let her think she had the upper hand on me—even though she absolutely did. If she wanted to play this game, then fine, I’d play.
I took a step towards her. “And if I have?” That victorious glint in her eyes wilted a little. Her hands curled around the edge of her desk. Another step. “What then?” She swallowed, her head tilting back slightly as I closed in on her.
There was that perfume again. My blood pumped faster, my breathing quickening. Her eyes darted between mine, pupils large. I felt drunk with the heat that poured off her. It was heady and exhilarating. A feeling I’d been missing for what felt like forever. And for Delilah of all people to be pulling it out of me? I couldn’t wrap my mind around it. But I’d spent so much time in my head, trying to straighten it out, and I was tired—so fucking tired—so I didn’t try to straighten this out. Instead, I went with it.
My body hummed with the energy flowing through my veins. That flowed between us. “Hm?” I tilted my head, took in every inch of her beautiful face. “What if I have been thinking about it?”
“I’d wonder what’s stopping you,” she whispered, her attention falling to my mouth. “I guess you’re too scared. Figures.”
I knew the comment was meant to egg me on, but it was the truest thing she’d said in weeks, maybe in all the years I’d known her. I was scared, the kind of scared that people grew addicted to. That fear meant something big was around the corner. Something life-changing.
I placed my hand beside hers on the desk. “You want it right here, Delilah? On your desk?” I didn’t even recognize my voice, or the need coursing beneath my skin. I moved my hand to her hip. Her lips parted with a shaky breath, her body shuddering beneath my grasp.
Three years. It had been three years since I touched a woman, and now I was touching my sister’s best friend. The most terrifying part of it all was that I didn’t want to stop. Her skin was warm, almost scorching, through her clothes. I wanted to feel every burning inch of her, consequences be damned.
“Yeah,” she breathed. “Give it to me right here, Emmett.”
Jesus Christ. A low groan escaped my lips. My grip tightened, and my hand trembled. I knew she could feel it too.
My mind screamed to stop, but my body roared louder to keep going. I needed to do this, needed to get over this fear of closeness. Iwantedit. But more than that, I wantedher. I reached for her face, her hair soft as I tucked a piece behind her ear. She leaned into my touch, her eyes fluttering.
“Don’t move,” I ground out, leaning in.
I could hardly breathe, hardly think, past the need to consume her. But that fear that’s been stopping me for years lingered in the back of my mind. The one that told me if I got too close, I’d let her down. That I was too fucked up to keep anyone safe. That I’d hurt her, whether that be emotionally…or physically by accident.
My eyes squeezed shut, trying to force the thoughts away, but they were planted firm, relentless in their intent. “Goddamnit,” I hissed, my forehead meeting hers like the contact alone could hold me together, but I was unraveling.
For a second, I almost let go. Almost let myself believe I could take this—take her—and not destroy it. But the guilt, the ghosts, they were louder than my need. I tore myself back, voice shredded, “I can’t do this.”
“What?” Her voice cracked on the word.
I staggered away from her, the ground caving beneath my feet. “I’m so sorry,” I managed to choke out before leaving her standing there. The same way I’d abandoned Danny in the rubble. Running when I should’ve stayed. Fleeing like a coward.
3
Ch 2 - Delilah
I can’t do this.
The words had rang through my head for the last two days. They chipped away at me like a sculptor chiseled marble. But instead of creating something beautiful, Emmett’s rejection whittled away at me until all my ugliest insecurities were right at the surface.
He was so close. And I was so sure I’d finally get what I’d been wanting since I knew what it meant to kiss someone.
But then he left. He left like I had meant nothing with a broken apology. Like I was a shitty toy he got tired of playing with. As if I hadn’t put myself—my heart, my self-respect, my friendship with his sisters—on the line for him. It was the worst pain he’d ever caused me, a pain I didn’t even know a man could make me feel because I never gave them the chance.
But he wasn’t just any man; he was Emmett. Emmett with his blonde curls and rough voice and terrified eyes. Emmett with his scarred heart and tormented mind. Emmett with my bleeding heart in his trembling hands.
No other man on Earth had this kind of power over me. Not once has a man made me feel this terrible about myself, thisunworthy. I knew what I was about. I was whip smart and funny as hell, with a pretty face and fantastic body to boot.
So why didn’t he want me?
No, fuck that. Iknewhe wanted me. I saw the heat in his eyes, felt the need in his hold on my hip. There was no denying it.
