It’s been six weeks since Emma moved up to Chicago, and “the guys,” as she calls them, are just now dragging their lazy asses up here with all her stuff.
Emma and I have been doing really well at balancing our lives together. We acknowledge Sarah but never discuss her. Emma goes to visit her twice a week at rehab, and on those nights, I lock myself in the shop and catch up on my woodworks. Yeah, it’s my way of being a bitter dick without taking it out on Emma. It never gets easier, knowing that Emma is spending time with the woman I hate most in this world. I did, however, agree to make it work. And if it means I get to keep Emma, I can bottle that hate up. I’m just terrified it will eventually explode.
Emma and I spend more time together than apart. I’m not falling in love with Emma. Oh, I’ve more than passed that. I am unquestionably in love with Emma Jane Erickson. And while that feeling usually elates me, some days it scares the ever-living shit out of me. I never thought I would feel this way again after Manda, and I am constantly on the edge of my seat waiting for it all to be snatched away from me again. That alone is the only reason why I haven’t told her how I feel yet. I think Emma loves me too, but I want to give it some time before I drop the L-bomb on her. That shit changes everything—for better or worse.
So I stand here watching her fawn all over these two guys, and it isn’t sitting well with me. I’m not usually a jealous guy, but no other man should be looking at her the way this “Hunter” guy is right now.
“Caleb Jones.” I extend a hand, forcing him to release her in order to shake it.
“Hunter Coy,” he answers, giving my hand an unnecessarily hard squeeze.
Oh yeah, this asshole is challenging me.
“Caleb, these are my best friends Hunter and Alex.”
I extend a hand to the big guy who towers over me. Alex is huge and, thankfully, a bit standoffish with Emma. He gave her a hug when they first got here, but he quickly released her. Unlike this Hunter prick, who ran into her arms with his ridiculously tight nut-huggers and frat-boy-pink polo shirt.
“I can’t believe y’all are here!” Emma jumps around, and both of these jerk-offs’ eyes glance down at her boobs. Yeah, this little visit isn’t going to end well.
“All right, let’s get this unloaded so you guys can get some rest. I’m sure you’re tired from the drive. What hotel are you staying at?” I ask the big guy.
“Caleb! They’re staying with me. You know that. Quit being a dick,” Emma says, calling me on my bullshit.
I roll my eyes and head to the back of the U-Haul, wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible. Three days. They are only in town for three days.
“I want to go out tonight,” Hunter states, once again pulling Emma against his side.
“Yes! Let’s do it. Hey, babe!” Emma yells. “You want to go out with us tonight? I bet they would love that bar we went to in the city.”
“Yeah, sounds good,” I lie. It sounds like shit idea, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to let Emma go out with these two alone.
“You grab the back. I’ll get the front,” Alex says, pointing to the dresser at the opening of the packed truck.
“Yep. One, two, three.” We both lift the dresser and carry it toward the door.
Hunter and Emma are still talking and laughing on the sidewalk.
“Little help here?” I shout pointedly at Hunter.
“Shit. Yeah. Sorry, man.” He leans forward and kisses her on the forehead before running our way.
It’s all I can do not to drop this dresser. He kissed her—right in fucking front of me.
And just in case that alone didn’t have my blood boiling, he finishes it off by saying, “I’ve really missed you, sugar.”
Hunter and I will be having words tonight. I don’t care if it does piss Emma off. She’ll have to get over it.
“HELLO.”
“Hey,” Sarah says flatly.
“Hey!” I squeal back at her.
I love when Sarah calls. Things have been going great since my first visit with Dr. Clark. I get to see her twice a week, and she usually calls once, but it’s always at random times. We’ve been spending this time getting to know each other all over again. She’s really not that different, but I let her pretend that she is.
“What are you doing?” she asks, trying to strike up conversation.
“Just moving in.”
“So the guys finally brought all your shit up?”
“Yeah. It probably took this long just to pack the truck. I did not realize how much stuff I have.”
“You never were a minimalist,” she jokes.
“Oh and you are? You forget I moved all your stuff too.”