That doesn’t surprise me one fucking bit. Emma is a hard worker. Seeing her today with everyone who came only confirmed my thoughts. “It sounds like you and your parents have a great relationship.”
She smiles, and I can tell from her eyes how much she loves them. My chest constricts at the thought of my small family. “We do.”
Emma clears her throat again before asking me a series of questions about the soup kitchen, volunteers, and Marina.
“Was she a friend of your parents?” she asks as her pen glides across the paper, jotting down my answer from the previous question.
My body stiffens at the mention of my parents. I’ve kept them out of this so far, but I knew she would eventually ask more about them, and I asked her about her family.
Fuck, I’m a hypocrite.
“Yes. Marina used to be our home cook, and she also took care of my siblings and me when our parents had to travel for work.”
She takes notes, then her eyes drift up to me, looking hesitant. “What did your parents do for work?”
Rubbing my hand against my jaw, I try to relax. I’m not used to talking about my parents with anyone except Marina, Wesley, and Lainey.
“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, Grayson,” Emma whispers.
My eyes quickly shift to hers, and I can see the sincerity in them. She puts her pen down when I remain silent.
“Do you remember when I told you that I carry that particular copy ofThe Princess Bridearound with me to certain outings to ground myself if I get nervous or bored?” I nod in response,and she opens her mouth, clearly hesitant about what she’s about to tell me. Her face changes to the sad expression I saw in July, and in turn, it makes me sad as well. “That specific copy of the book is the one I read with my cousin, and we both fell in love with romance books. We knew we wanted to do something involving writing after that day. We’d write silly little love stories, pretend we worked at a magazine, or a newspaper.” She lets out a quiet laugh as her throat bobs. “She was hit by a car and passed away when we were both fourteen.”
My hands pause their movement, and I look at her with wide eyes. She didn’t have to tell me this. This is the most personal thing either of us has ever spoken about.
“Fuck, Emma. I’m so sorry.”
She shakes her head and wipes away a lone tear. “I know it’s not the same as losing a parent, but she was my best and only friend at the time.”
“A loss is a loss. Cousin, parents, a friend… It’s still a loss.”
Emma nods and leans her small frame over, placing her palm on my left hand. I immediately feel my other hand curling into a fist as I suppress the urge to turn it over so our palms can make contact.
Taking my eyes away from where we’re touching, I look back up at her, and she says, “I don’t want you to feel like you can’t talk to me about your parents, but don’t ever feel obligated to. I avoid talking about my cousin to anyone outside my family. I know how it feels. It can always be off the record, and we can talk about loss like normal people do.”
“Thank you for taking me up on my offer and coming today,” I respond, because I don’t know what to say. What does someone say after something like that? The last thing I want to do is fuck up…again.
“Thank you for practically begging me to come.” She smiles playfully.
I chuckle lightly. “I’m assuming this means you’re not going to give the piece to that other girl?”
She shakes her head. “Definitely not.” I grin. “If I did, I wouldn’t get to see Marina again, and I’ve grown quite fond of her.”
We both laugh this time, and I feel our bodies move through our hands, which are still touching. Emma looks down at the same time I do, and I know I shouldn’t. A small voice in my head tells me not to, but I give in, turning my hand over to grab hers and sweep my thumb back and forth on her knuckles.
Emma’s breathing becomes heavier, and I look up to find her eyes on me. There’s heat and confusion behind them.
If we were alone—if we weren’t who we are—I’d have taken her out to a nice restaurant the moment we saw each other again. I would’ve kissed her properly after taking her home, and fucked her all night once she was ready, but that’s not an option right now.
We’re working together, and she’s still in college while I work at the same one. She’s twenty-one, and I’m thirty-one. Her life is just beginning, and I feel like I’ve already peaked. It wouldn’t be fair to bring her into my life because I’m still uncertain if what I’m doing now or where I’m living is permanent.
She licks her lips, and I follow the movement.
Fuck me.I remember the feeling of those lips against mine and how I wanted them wrapped around my cock…
“Grayson,” she whispers as I lift my hand to her wrist, tracing lazy circles. It’s not something I do on purpose, and I know I’m being a selfish bastard by not stopping.
“Emma—”
