His words were so brazen. So bold.
She shook her head. Emery knew she’d made a mistake last night; she should’ve left after she gave Tim his plate. She was right to run from him at the dance club. When she was around him, she wasn’t quite herself and she couldn’t put her finger on why. He felt like a drug she couldn’t get enough of, like she wanted to smother herself in him, which was dangerous. It was a precarious situation, because she couldn’t have what she wanted so desperately. Last night she felt everything; a tingle traveled up her entire body every time he touched her and even now at the memory. The burning feeling of pure desire was so intense it actually hurt. His touch alone seemed to quiet her soul. His presence seemed like a balm to her constant ache for someone to touch her, for someone to accept her and be with her. Noah didn’t even set off that reaction in her. This guy was different. He’d forced his way into her life and now she needed to figure out how to walk away.
Walk away from possible happiness. Leave behind his touch, which was so different than his cocky demeanor.
Stop feeling.
She needed to stop now, because if he touched her again, she’d be too far gone. Emery ignored his text, as hard as it was, because she could feel him inside her now.
Ugh. Stop, stop, stop! She had to stop.
Placing another piece of praline in her mouth, she saw a girl, around her age, holding a guy’s hand. They were talking and walking; she was animated and he was staring at her with heat in his eyes. The girl was causal, but moved with sensual ease. She was obviously comfortable with being sexual. Emery thought maybe Emma could be like that. Maybe in order to forget what she thought to be the start of something that could ruin her, she should date other men. Emery didn’t do that, she tried to stay away from everyone, but it was like not drinking water. When you’re parched and you finally get water, you guzzle an entire gallon and then you get sick. She was so lonely that when someone finally touched her she thought he was going to change her entire world. She thought that he would make her feel whole, like a fucking romance novel. That was impossible. Her life was definitely not a romance novel.
A buzzing noise startled her. She looked up from her Kindle and walked over to the intercom.
“Yes?”
“Emma, thank God you’re okay.” His voice cracked through the speaker.
Emery stepped back from the intercom, not really believing the voice she heard. After a few seconds, the buzzer sounded again.
“Emma, let me in.”
Shit.
Emery opened the door and walked slowly down the stairs to find Tim standing at the door with his uniform on. Her stomach flipped in anticipation and she looked down to collect her thoughts. She began opening the door slowly, but Tim thrust it open hurriedly and pushed her back against the wall in the entrance hall. Her body sparked to life and she raised her eyes to his. He didn’t wait to devour her lips, then her neck. His nose was chilly from the night air and left a trail of cold on her face where it touched.
“Emma, I—” he cut himself off by kissing her again. “We may need to go upstairs.”
She laughed when she noticed the tent in the front of his black uniform pants. “Is everything okay? Did we have a date that I’m not aware of?” she asked sarcastically.
“We have a date every night,” he answered, walking up the stairs and leaving her staring at him, her mouth agape.
“I—” she began.
“Come on, Emma, don’t make me start without you.”
She’d had a rough few weeks. The police still hadn’t found Lucas or his mother and had pretty much given up looking for them. Tim had promised her he was still looking, and that he’d continue to look. Fortunately, there were another one hundred and three kids on her caseload that needed her help, so she filled her time by staying busy, all the while wondering where Lucas was and if he was okay. She called his school every day to see if he was there.
Although they had been spending as much time together as they could, Tim’s schedule was the opposite of hers. The first night he had off, Tim talked her into a night out. She never went out and a distraction sounded like a great idea, so she’d agreed to go to a concert.
Tim’s hand grasped hers gently as he led her through a precarious opening amongst the bodies all moving in time with the beat. She hadn’t been to a concert since the one she went to with Noah. This was totally different—outdoors and country music as opposed to rock at the historically epic Ryman. Suddenly he veered left and she was pulled into what seemed like a maze of people standing, sitting, and lounging on grass. They approached a wide space mapped by a large quilt made of what looked like t-shirts.