Page 15 of Emery


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Not sure how I feel about him right now though.

Agitated, irritated, and most definitely frustrated top the list.

Kinda want to kiss him again, too.

Ugh.

“Yeah, we are.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, and those two words slipping out of his mouth make me pause. Because he’s never said that to me. Not even when he punched me in the face all those months ago.

“Why didn’t you follow the GPS?” I ask as calmly as I can.

“I did, and it told me to turn down here.”

I don’t believe it, but then again, I just don’t know. Maybe the GPS was wrong, or maybe he wasn’t paying attention. I’m leaning more toward the latter since he has the attention span of a fruit fly.

I grab onto my phone and turn it on, and my heart drops.No Serviceblinks up at me, and I tamp down the panic as I quickly shut my phone off.

“My phone has no service either,” he whispers and I close my eyes.

So, no tow. And it’s getting late. The chances of someone searching for us now is minimal. Our parents probably won’t even call this in until tomorrow.

Fuck.

“It’s bad, huh?” he asks softly.

“Yeah, it is.” I run a hand over my face and sigh. “Well, we should prepare for a long, cold night.”

Emery peeks over at me, a lock of tussled dark hair falling over his eyes. It looks like he’s been running his hands through it for a while.

“You’re not mad?”

I grind my teeth together and look out the window. I’m not sure getting angry will solve anything. I can tell he already feels bad enough. No need to rub it in. I take a slow, cleansing breath.

“No,” I lie, and Emery huffs.

“You’re a terrible liar. I can see the muscle in your jaw working. You want to yell at me. Go ahead. I can take it.”

He fists his hands on his thighs and straightens his shoulders. The whole posture just makes me deflate a little.

“I’m not going to yell. It won’t solve anything.”

Emery starts wiggling in his seat, fidgeting with his charging cord and twisting it around his finger. “Come on. I’m used to it. Had lots of practice being yelled at. I can handle it.”

I turn my head slowly and stare at Emery. I really take him in––his shaggy brown hair swept to one side, the sides of his head closely shaved, his big brown eyes with thick black lashes, the intricate tattoos that snake up his arms and neck. I’ve never really seen anyone like him before and as much as he irks me, he also really intrigues me.

But really, what kills me, is that he looks like a lost puppy right now. There is no way I’m doing anything to make that lower lip wobble.

“I’m not going to yell at you, Em,” I say softly. “It’s okay. It was a mistake.”

His breath stutters, and I realize a moment too late what I did. I gave him a nickname. There’s an intimacy in that which we don’t yet have.

But I can’t seem to regret it because it suits him.

Emery nods his head and chews on his bottom lip. “Well, okay, if you change your mind….”

“I’m not going to change my mind,” I mutter and then turn around to glance in the back of the SUV. I’m mentally inventorying everything we have.

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