“What the fuck ever,” Theo scoffs before the door slams closed, leaving me alone for the first time in… a long fucking time.
Knowing that Emmie won’t be long, I quickly tidy up and throw the dirty dishes sitting on the counter into the dishwasher before making us both a drink and putting some music on.
The bell rings only a few minutes after I sit down on the couch.
Just like I promised Seb, I’m sensible and check the camera before opening the door. It’s completely unnecessary, because it’s just my girl standing on the other side.
Theo’s wrong about her involvement in this. I know he is. He’s just clutching at straws, trying to find a reason to dislike her so he can convince himself to push her away.
I see you, Theo Cirillo.
“Hey,” I say with a wide smile, moving aside to let her in.
“I can’t believe they left you alone,” she says, looking around the living area as if one of them is about to pop out and shout boo.
“I know, right. It feels… weird.”
Emmie kicks off her boots and falls down on the couch like she owns the place.
“So what’s the plan then?” she asks, accepting the weak cocktail I made her seeing as she’s probably going to want to ride home later.
Shrugging, I drop onto the opposite couch. “I don’t have one. Thought we could just hang.”
Her brows rise in shock. “And here I was thinking I was being tricked into some crazy plan that would drive Seb insane.”
“I don’t have the energy,” I admit, slouching back.
“Who are you and what have you done with Stella?” she asks, mocking me.
“I know, I know. The last few weeks have been fucking mental. I just want to chill the fuck out. Watch some shit on the TV and… I dunno,” I confess. “Breathe a little.”
“I get that.” She lifts her glass and takes a drink. “Have you eaten?”
I shake my head. “No. You?”
“Chinese? I could murder some chilli shredded chicken.”
“Sounds good to me.”
I pull up the menu on my cell and select what I want before throwing it at Emmie so she can add whatever else she’s craving.
After I hit order, I fall back on the couch and stare at whatever is playing on the TV. Silence surrounds us, but it’s completely comfortable.
I glance over at Emmie, desperate to question her on Theo, amongst other things. She wants to talk; I can see it in the slight frown on her brow and the darkness in her eyes.
“Emmie, are you—”
“I’m fine,” she snaps, predicting what I was about to ask, inadvertently giving me the truth.
“Em,” I breathe, twisting to give her my full attention. “What’s going on? You can tell me anything, I promise it won’t go any further.”
She laughs, but there’s no humor in it. Only pain.
“I trust you, Stella. I do. I just…” She shakes her head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Okay,” I say, but I refuse to change the subject completely. “Your dad have any idea that you’re hanging out with Cruz yet?”
She visibly pales at my question.