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“Actually, I’m staying at my parents’ tonight. I uh–I told Emily I’d hang out with her.”
“Oh, yeah. Okay. Of course,” I say and start the scooter.
I don’t know why, but I feel like he’s lying to me.
I’ve only met his parents once, briefly, when they stopped by the barn and I was running out the door for work last week. Emmett looks just like his dad and his mom was warm and kind in the brief interaction. I got to meet his sister Emily last week when we gave her a ride to her dance class. She's a sweet kid but was a little shy. I don’t know if any of this is normal in a friendship like ours. My guess is, though, that most people don’t share a bed every night for weeks with their friends.
“I’m sorry,” Emmett says, more to the ground than me.
His sheepish apology makes it even more confusing.
“No worries. I better get to work,” I say, pulling away from the curb and forcing myself not to look back over my shoulder.
“You’re in a mood,” Bea says when I drop my helmet on the counter a little too hard.
I let out a huff and drop into one of the bistro chairs in the empty bakery.
“Sorry,” I say, unable to shake my sour mood.
“Wanna talk about it?”
Yes. No. Maybe.
“How do you know if someone’s just a friend, or if they’re maybe something more?” I ask, avoiding eye contact with her.
Bea closes the cash register, comes out from behind the counter, and leans her back against it. She crosses her arms in front of her and stares at me.
“Would this maybe something more be Emmett?” she asks.
“Maybe,” I practically whisper.
She lets out a short chuckle and tilts her head at me, smiling.
“Oh honey. It’s clear to anyone who’s known Emmett for more than five minutes that he’s infatuated with you. And not just in afriendway.”
I groan and drop my head on the small table in front of me.
“Then why the hell hasn’t he kissed me yet?” I say, my voice muffled.
“Seriously? He really hasn’t even tried to kiss you yet?” Bea practically shouts.
Now I know something is definitely off and I groan into the table again.
“Nope. And we’ve been sharing the bed at night,” I admit, sitting up and looking at Bea for a reaction.
“Oh,” is all she manages to say.
“That’s it? Oh? That’s all you’ve got for me? Come on Bea, you know I’m completely hopeless here and barely know what I’m doing.”
“Look, sweetie, I’m the last person who should give relationship advice. I’ve told you how Nate and I got together. It was a mess. Sure, a beautiful mess with a happy ending, but I had no idea what I was even doing half the time. I will say this, though, trust your instincts. Even if you don’t have a lot of relationship experience, you’re a smart girl. And believe me when I tell you that Emmett adores you.”
I nod and let her advice sink in.
Maybe I should just lay it all out on the line. Let Emmett know that I have feelings for him. Hell, with the way I treated him the first few weeks we knew each other, I don’t blame him for assuming I want nothing more than a place to live.
I’m just about to leave the shop for my first round of deliveries when Nate comes through the back door. I cover my eyes with my hand as quickly as I can and shout for Bea. Bea laughs from behind the counter but doesn’t move and Nate makes a noise that I’ve learned means he’s somewhere between irritated, embarrassed and amused.
“You know Aubrey, that hasn’t been funny the last seven times you’ve done it,” Nate says, blocking my path.
