“Because I know you didn’t stay at your parents’, or come home, or even crash here,” he says, his eyes shooting up, gesturing to the hotel.
“I went for a drive to clear my head.”
“You know, if you hadn’t had my back so many times over the years, I’d be offended right now. I can track your fucking phone, you lying piece of shit. Just tell me you went to her.”
I glare at my best friend, begging him to shut the fuck up.
But I know him better than that.
He’s also loved up as fuck, and although he’d never admit to being a romantic, I can see this sappy plan about me getting with his girl’s best friend playing out in his mind.
“I—”
“Stop,” he says, sensing the lie coming. “Just stop. I know exactly what you’ve been doing. And if you didn’t want me finding out, you’d have disconnected from the tracker. Wouldn’t be the first time,” he grumbles. “So…”
I let out a heavy sigh. He’s expecting me to tell him that I trailed her, fucked her into next week like he knows I’ve been dying to do since she turned up at Knight’s Ridge, and that everything is going to be fine. Happily ever after, here we come. But that’s not how this thing is going to play out.
“We just hung out,” I confess.
His brows lift in shock.
“Don’t tell me you hung out with her and then came home to use that tub of Vaseline Alex bought you for Christmas.”
“It’s complicated.”
“It’s pretty simple. You’re both perfect for each other and both insanely hot for each other. Just pull your head out of your arse, or your cock out of your trousers and fucking bang her. Make her yours.”
My teeth grind in frustration.
Yeah, ain’t that the fucking problem. If I bang her then…
“Shit,” I hiss, pushing my hair back from my brow and casting a look around the room.
“What?” Seb asks as if I’ve seen some trouble about to kick off.
“N-nothing. I just—”
“Need her.”
My eyes find his, but I don’t see any teasing, just understanding.
“It’s fucked up, man. I can’t even tell you—”
“You don’t have to tell me anything. Tell her, maybe.” He reaches up and rubs the back of his neck. “Shit, I’m not good at this stuff. I make it up as I go along and Stella kicks my arse if I get it wrong. But… if you want her, if you think it might be something, then the only person who matters, who should know what’s going on in your fucked-up head is her.”
“And what if she doesn't want to hear it? What if she can’t deal with—”
“This is Emmie we’re talking about. We both know that you can throw anything at her and it won’t scare her away. She’s not Sloane. She’s not some prim and proper princess who expects to be treated like glass and is happy to live in the shadows—to a point—just to be with you. Emmie is… she’s the whole package. If you want it.”
“Jesus Christ, bro. You’re not making this any easier to take.”
“Trust me, when you figure it out, it’ll be worth it.”
“Fucking hell, I never thought I’d see the day you got yourself this fucking whipped.”
He shrugs as if he doesn’t have a care in the world.
“I gotta tell you, it’s not a bad place to be.”