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I pull away from the group.
“Where you going, Dex?” Grinder asks, resting a hand on my forearm. “We’re heading to our house in a few.”
“Yeah,” I answer, keeping my eyes focused on the doorway in case Emily tries to make a run for it. “I’ll meet you in the parking lot.”
“What’s going on with you and Emily?” he asks, releasing my arm and pressing his hand against my chest instead. “You two talk yet?”
I wrap my fingers around his wrist and apply slight pressure. “Enjoy your day. Celebrate your son.” I lean in closer so we’re almost nose-to-nose. “Keep out of my business.”
“Emily is my business.” He drops his gaze to my hand still wrapped around his wrist, ready to snap his arm if he provokes me enough. “I thought I made that clear.”
“Everything all right?” Z asks, slapping a hand on my shoulder, then Grinder’s.
I turn my head slightly. Both Z and Rock have joined us. Z’s smile seems to suggest he’s amused. Rock’s glare does not.
I let go of Grinder and he drops his hand.
“Nothing, Prez. We’re all good here.” Grinder pats my chest to punctuate the lie. “Go inject yourself into someone else’s conversation.”
I snort and aim my stare at Grinder. Hypocrite.
Z isn’t put off by the dismissal from his enforcer. He flashes a big, dimpled grin as if this is all entertainment for him.
“Everything’s fine,” I say without looking at Grinder. “Excuse me.”
I push past Grinder, nod at Z, then Rock, and hurry the fuck away.
Precious seconds were lost during that exchange. Emily could’ve slipped out the back door. Sure, we’re both headed to the same place, but opportunities for a few moments of privacy will be limited at the party.
I step through the open doorway into a narrow, wood-paneled hallway. Thin carpet that’s somewhere between burnt orange and rotting apple red mutes my footsteps. To my right, a door leads outside. A sharp left turn leads to a longer hallway.
Running water rushes behind a closed door. A few seconds later the door opens and Emily steps out.
She stops, staring at me with her mouth open. Caught in the open doorway, she rocks back on her heels as if she’s contemplating retreating to the bathroom.
As if that would stop me.
“You realize you can’t hide from me forever, right?” I lift an eyebrow.
“Who’s hiding?” she says, stepping fully into the hallway and closing the door behind her. “Why are you following me to the bathroom?”
“To talk to you.”
The hallway’s narrow, and short enough for the ceiling tiles to whisper against the top of my head. There isn’t enough room to walk side by side if we wanted to. Emily puts her back against the wall and slides toward the exit.
“Why?” she asks.
At the corner, I block her path to freedom, pushing her backward and caging her in with my palms pressed flat against the wall on either side of her head.
“Why?” I ask with exaggerated curiosity. “Why do I want to talk to you?”
She blinks up at me. Her lips part. Fuck it. I dip my head, leaning in to kiss her. Her hand slaps my chest, stopping me. I’m hanging on by a thread, fighting the urge to kiss her hard and tongue fuck the stubbornness right out of her.
“We’re in a church!” Emily whispers.
“I don’t give a fuck.” I touch my forehead to hers. “This is the first chance we’ve had to talk.”
“I said everything I had to say.” Her shaky voice and wild eyes betray every word out of her mouth.
“Well, I didn’t. Not even close.” What can I do to shake some sense into her overanalyzing head?
Her bottom lip trembles and her gaze skitters to the side. “Please, let me go.”
Should I? Let her walk away and forget everything we have?
“No.” I press my hands to the sides of her face and tip her head up. “I love you.”
She draws in a ragged breath. “Dex, don’t. Please.”
“Fine.” I release her but my body still blocks her escape. “Tell me one thing and I’ll walk away. For good.”
Her head jerks back and a deep frown flashes over her face, as if the “for good” part finally penetrated her stubbornness.
“What?” she whispers.
I open my mouth to ask if she loves me, but I can’t do it. There’s a chance she’ll say no just to be obstinate. Even if I know she’s lying, I can’t listen to her deny her feelings.
Instead, I lean down and brush my lips against her ear. Her body shivers against mine and she leans closer as I ask, “Am I the best fuck you’ve ever had?”
EMILY
Liquid heat shoots through my body. That’s so not what I expected him to say. My body’s ready to answer with an enthusiastic yes and leap into his arms.
My brain isn’t much better. Part of me is offended, maybe outraged by such a brazen question—in a church, no less—but it’s a tiny part.
