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Her cheeks flush a deeper shade of red, and she can't seem to meet my eyes. Then, she launches into a string of explanations that would rival the driver’s tales for sheer improbability.
Tornados, plane crashes, fashion disasters, a sick two-legged-dog—it's a dizzying array of excuses that leaves me more puzzled than enlightened.
"You're trembling, and you're not making any sense," I say, concern edging into my voice as I reach out and touch her hand. "Tell me the truth, what's wrong?"
Finally, she looks up at me, her eyes wide and glistening.
She's undeniably beautiful, even more so in her flustered state, with cheeks pink like strawberries and pouty lips. But it's the vulnerability in her big, brown eyes that truly captures me.
She exhales, a long, shaky breath. "My grandmother has been delayed. She won't be back for a few days," she admits, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Oh," is all I manage to say.
I can't help but feel a twinge of relief. Being stuck here gives me a legitimate reason to avoid my father's insistence on meeting the Lonelles for a discussion that's bound to include engagement talk.
“I’m so sorry, I know your time is valuable and you must have places to be…” Emily trails off, then nips her bottom lip in a way that makes my stomach do flips.
"Well, I could use a break," I suggest, hoping to ease her apparent distress. "If you don't mind, I'd like to stay here while we wait for her to arrive."
Her relief is palpable, and she nods. "Great. Are you hungry?" she asks, changing the subject.
I reach for a banana from the stack that had so captivated her attention earlier and offer one to her.
Her mouth opens in surprise, and for a fleeting moment, I'm almost certain her gaze darts down to my crotch.
It takes a second for realization to dawn on me.
"Did you come by my room earlier?" I ask, a smile tugging at my lips. "I'm sorry I didn't hear you. I always like to shower after a long flight."
Emily's face turns a spectacular shade of red, and she opens and closes her mouth without making a sound.
I can't suppress a chuckle, finding her embarrassment both endearing and amusing.
"I'm pretty jet-lagged," she stammers, her words tripping over each other. "I think I need to go to bed. It's been a big—I mean, long, no. I... It's hard... oh my gosh."
With that, she practically flees the kitchen, leaving me alone with a banana in my hand and a smile I can't shake off.
EMILY
I'm pacing in my room, still reeling from last night's mortifying encounter, when my phone rings. It's Evan, and without thinking, I blurt out the whole naked escapade.
He bursts into laughter. "Wow, Em, you don't hang around, do you? But don't you think you should wait until he knows who you really are before you jump into bed with him?"
I'm aghast. "No one is jumping into bed, Evan," I say, my face heating up all over again.
"Don't sweat it," he assures me, still chuckling. "Guys don't get embarrassed about that sort of thing. Sounds like you gave him multiple compliments about his manhood. At least you didn’t say, ‘it’s nothing, tiny, not a big problem’."
I groan, sinking onto the bed. "You’re nothelping. I need ideas, Evan. How do I keep him entertained here?"
"Well, apart from the obvious..." Evan starts, and I can practically hear the grin in his voice. "You could tell him you've never seen The Godfather. That estate has an epic movie room."
His suggestions spiral from there—some hilarious, some bizarre. "You could have a sock puppet theater night," he says,and I can't tell if he's serious or not. "Or a hide-and-seek championship."
I end the call exasperated but determined to face the new day with some semblance of coolness.
In the kitchen, I find William, flipping pancakes. "I found the mix in your pantry and thought I'd give it a go."
I can't help but be impressed. "I don't mind at all," I reply, taking a seat at the table.
