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“I’m talking about the girl you apparently pissed off so bad she can only yell at you via text,” I snorted. “Something tells me she’s a particularly scorned ex of yours.”
“She’s not. I’m not sure you can call any of the women I’ve been with exes.”
“Why? You’re still actively sleeping with all of them?”
“No. More like I don’t sleep with anyone for long enough
to become a boyfriend,” Emmett said.
“Well, how long were you with Natalie for?”
“I was never with her – we spent a little more than a week hooking up. And I did tell her before we started that I don’t do relationships.”
I lifted my eyebrows. “You really don’t?”
“You seem surprised.”
“Well, the fact that you give official disclaimers before even hooking up with someone is pretty serious,” I snorted. “Plus, you’ve just always been the kind of guy who likes having someone take care of you. That was definitely the case in high school at least.”
I could still vividly recall how Emmett jumped from relationship to relationship back then. He definitely had his weeks of being single and hooking up with random hot girls or, to piss me off, my closest friends. But outside those lulls, he was usually elbows-deep in a relationship. He pretty much always had a devoted girlfriend doing things like bringing him lunch, cleaning his locker and recording videos of his football practice to text to his mom. Emmett was notoriously spoiled and pampered, and he loved the perks of having a girlfriend, so I couldn’t help being surprised that he no longer did even the short-term relationship thing.
“Yeah, well, I’ve learned how to take care of myself since high school,” Emmett said as our first course of seared scallops arrived. “That’s just a part of being an adult.”
“So is learning how to commit to someone, isn’t it?”
“I don’t have the time.”
“Yeah, what with the grueling nine-to-five you don’t have,” I teased. “I can’t imagine that your mom doesn’t give you a hard time about this.”
“She does, but that doesn’t change the fact that I have much more important priorities than being in a relationship.”
“Oh yeah? Like what?”
“Nothing I feel the need to talk about, Aly,” Emmett said, the sudden steeliness in his tone scaring me out of any follow-up questions. Completely thrown off, I blinked.
“Oh. Okay. That’s cool,” I nodded lamely, trying to sound casual despite feeling suddenly embarrassed. I thought we’d been joking around since that was all Emmett ever knew how to do, but apparently, he was more than capable of being serious now. Come on, Aly, I cursed myself, reaching nervously for my champagne when I realized I found Angry Emmett kind of hot.
And by kind of, I meant extremely.
“Well…” I started, thoroughly flustered now and way too eager to break the silence. “I’m totally with you on the no relationship thing anyway,” I said hastily, swigging my drink. Emmett cocked his eyebrow.
“Yeah? And why is that?”
“Because like you said, bigger priorities exist,” I said. “I’ve got a restaurant to run, you’ve got… whatever your job is. So fuck relationships. Who needs ‘em? Right?”
Maybe I was tipsy, but I actually felt strongly about my words. And I felt even stronger about them when Emmett raised his water glass and agreed.
“Yeah. Fuck relationships,” he smirked. “Sex will do in the meantime. Right?”
I nearly choked on my champagne but luckily, our food arrived on cue and spared me from having to answer the question. And thanks to our waiter’s long descriptions of each special appetizer – as well as how insanely fucking good each dish was – the topic was swiftly forgotten.
And for the rest of the night, much to my pleasured surprise, the conversation remained strictly platonic.
8
EMMETT
When Monday came, I canceled plans with Drew and his agent-slash-my business partner, Iain. Plain and simple, I had spent way less time with Aly than I’d expected in my first week of living with her, and I just wanted the chance to be near her tonight.
