Paul asks for the bill, and I just sit there looking at her, willing her to look up at me, but Emma refuses. Is it the guilt that makes her look away like that? Is it because she still feels the insane desire that flared between us back in the hall? The memory of it threatens to make my dick hard again, so I focus on blocking those thoughts from my mind.
“How was the lava cake?” I ask Mom.
“Oh, it was good.” She softens a little, seemingly relieved that I’m talking about a neutral topic.
The bill arrives, and Paul throws down his credit card. Jesus, I can’t imagine how much this shit show must have cost him. We gather our things and head to the door, and I watch as Paul puts his hand on the small of my mom’s back. Even that small gesture stirs the anger still churning inside me, so I look away.
Emma is still staring at the ground like she’s consumed with guilt, which she has every reason to be. And not to be crass, but I know she’s wet. My dick got hard back in that hallway, and Emma got wet.
For me.
I’m positive if I dragged her back into that dark corridor and did what I insanely contemplated doing before, if I slid my hand up her dress and cupped her sweet pussy, I’d find her panties soaked for me.
Breathe, goddammit. Breathe.
I wrench my attention away from the pretty little liar, adjusting my hardening dick subtly as we reach the cars parked half a block away.
“Well, this has been a nice evening,” Paul says in a forced sort of way.
“It has been… interesting.” Mom shares a look with him and then glares at me, disappointment radiating from her.
The dark-haired man chuckles, sounding tired. “That it has.”
He gives my mom a kiss on the cheek and holds out his hand for me to shake it, which I do. Very firmly. Then Emma and I finally look at one another, and neither of us says a thing.
“Okay.” Paul shakes his head, leading Emma toward their car.
“Okay,” Mom echoes with a sigh.
So, that’s the end of the fucked up evening, and I’m almost sad it’s done.
There was so much that could’ve happened in that hallway, and even though it all would’ve been a mistake, I can’t help playing alternate versions in my head as I drive back to campus. I’m sure Mom will call me with an earful later, and I know I fucking deserve it. But if she knew the whole story, she’d know I’m doing this for her, to try to keep manipulative, dangerous people out of her life.
I shower as soon as I get back to the house the guys and I share, my dick painfully hard again as thoughts of Emma keep seeping into my brain. I jerk off just to purge my mind and my thoughts of her, and it helps… a little.
By the time the guys get home, I’m in full-on battle mode. Emma needs to go down, or she needs to end up in my bed. Actually, I’d prefer for both of those things to happen, but I can only tell the guys about the destruction part of the plan. That’s the only part that makes any logical sense.
Reese shows up wearing a hat pulled low over his eyes, and West is wearing all black. It’s like we’re a gang or something
, which I guess we essentially are.
We crack open a few beers and settle onto the couch and chairs arranged around the TV in the living room.
I take a long drag from my beer, letting the cool liquid soothe my throat before I glance at my friends. “My mom and Paul Holloway are dating now.”
“What the fuck? Are you kidding me?” Reese’s brows shoot up.
“I am not.”
“Damn. This is fucked up.” West grunts, shaking his head.
“Tell me about it. We all had dinner together, and it was a total disaster.”
“Emma was there?” Reese asks.
“Yes, she was there. With that same guilty fucking expression on her face.”
“What did you say to her?” West flicks his gaze in my direction.