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“Oh my god,” Emily flops down onto the couch across from me and covers her face with both hands.
“You know, this is not the most technically correct in its depiction of NASCAR,” I look over at her.
“That’s not the point,” she takes her hands away from her face and pouts.
God, I love seeing her blush. So many little things I’ve missed about her.
“No, I imagine it’s not,” I can’t help but smirk at her.
I keep reading aloud and sneak glances at her out of the corner of my eye.
“‘Give it to me,’ Charlotte whispered. ‘Give it to me hard, Steel.’
‘Beg for it, beg for me to fill up that pussy,’ Steel growled.
‘Please,’ Charlotte whimpered.
Steel thrust forward, his massive girth penetrating her and filling her up like no other man could. He moved in and out, his pelvis slamming into her like a piston, and Charlotte’s wetness began to seep down her thigh.”
“See, right there. Pistons don’t really slam. They’re very smooth and more like they rock… in and out of each cylinder. You’re a mechanical engineer, you know how pistons work.” I look at Emily and dramatize my words, speak them slowly.
“Oh my god, I hate you,” she’s redder than ever, but I can see her biting her lip, trying not to smile. It’s the first time in a long time I’ve made her smile, even if she’s hiding it.
Before I have time to think through what I’m asking or the ramifications of her answer, I blurt it out. “Do you… hate me?”
She leans back to the couch and wraps her arms around herself. Her face turns away, and she looks off into the distance.
Please say no.
Eventually, she brings her head back and looks down at her lap, then shakes her head, “I should.”
“But, you don’t?”
She shakes her head again like she can’t make herself say it aloud.
I drop her Kindle to my chest and turn my body to face her better. Even the head shake is a win, and a tiny bit of the heaviness inside me lifts.
“I hate what you did, though,” she adds after a moment.
“I hate what I did, too.”
“Good for you,” she fires back at me.
Okay, then. I knew it was coming. Emily can be angry. She should be angry.
I need to switch gears before she walks out. “Not what I expected you to be reading,” I tap the Kindle on my chest, “not that there’s anything wrong with it.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not the same person you used to know,” she says defensively, still mad. “Are you?”
“No,” I admit.
What a fucking mouthful.
I picture her dancing at that club and all the things I’ve done over the last several years, things I would never want her to know or learn about. Things I am not proud of.
“I don’t want this to be weird, Cole,” she says after a long quiet moment. I can see her formulating her resolve before my very eyes. “We have to work together.”
I sit up, drop my legs off the couch, and nod as I turn to face her. “We used to be friends once.”
