She puts it on the counter and holds on to the edge with white knuckles as my hands roam her tight body. God, these curves. I’m fucking crazy about her and them. I slide my hands down her hips to the front of her stomach and dip under the waistband of her sleep shorts, past the scrap of lace covering her sweet pussy, then drag my fingers through her slit. When my fingers connect, she hisses.
“Mmm,” Holland moans quietly, and I tease her clit faster as I feel the tension in her body build.
“Reed? Holland?” Emery’s voice breaks through the darkness. Holland jumps so fast, she knocks into me, and I straighten her shorts to make sure she’s covered.
Shit. Shit. SHIT.
Not only did Emery just catch us at the worst possible time, she caught us with my hand down Holland’s shorts.
The light flicks on and Emery’s standing in front of us, a mask of shock on her face. She’s still got on her jeans and coat with fresh snow on her shoulders, so she must have just gotten to the cabin. We were so caught up in the moment that we didn’t even hear the front door open.
“What the hell?” she screeches.
Holland visibly shrinks back and tries to walk toward her. “Emery, I...”
Em holds her hand up, stopping her. “Wow. So this is why you’ve been so checked out? This is what you’ve been hiding from me?” Her eyes dart back and forth between Holland and me.
Take the worst possible scenario and multiply it times three and this is the disaster that is happening right the fuck now. This is the absolute worst way for Emery to find out.
“Please, just listen Eme-” Holland starts, but Emery cuts her off. Tears shine in Emery’s eyes as she looks at her.
“God, Holland, you’ve been my best friend my entire life. And you lied to me? Hid this from me? To what… sleep with mybrother?” Emery sneers. “I can’t believe you’d do this. Either of you. Especially not you, Holland.”
I can feel the anger vibrate off of her. When I step toward her, she takes a step back.
“Just let us explain, Em,” I try, and she shakes her head vehemently, mascara-streaked tears wetting her cheeks.
“I don’t want to speak to either of you.Youcan explain to Mom why I left; I can’t be here right now. I’m out.”
She turns and wrenches the door open, storming out and letting it slam shut behind her. So hard that the door vibrates in the frame.
God, this is a fucking nightmare.
I look over at Holland, who’s already starting to cry. Her small shoulders shaking.
“Baby.” I reach for her, and she pulls away and brushes past me toward her room. I hear the door shut, and the lock click.
I walk over to the door and knock lightly, not being able to stand the fact that she’s hurting and this fucking door is separating us, but she doesn’t answer.
Looking over at the front door, I decide to go after Emery. I grab my jacket from the coatrack and slip my boots on. I open the door and walk outside to search for Emery. I get it, she’s pissed off and wants nothing to do with us right now, but it’s not safe for her to be out here in the middle of the damn night.
My eyes scan the driveway in the dark, and realize her car is gone. She left.
I walk back inside in search of my phone; I grab it off the charger then call her. It rings, then goes to voicemail, so I try once… twice… three more times.
Damnit, Emery. Pick up the phone.
This time it goes straight to voicemail. I type out a text to her.
Me: I know you’re pissed, Em, but please be safe. It’s dark and the roads are slick.
A few seconds later, the read receipt pops up, so at least I know she saw the message. The response bubbles start and a text from her comes through.
Emery: I’m not answering the phone, so stop calling. You’re an asshole and I don’t want to talk to you, Reed. But I’m not stupid. I’ll be fine. I need space. Please give me space.
I fucking hate this. I hate fighting with Em. I can count on one hand the number of actual arguments or real disagreements we had growing up, so one like this hits me square in the chest. I just wish that she would’ve given us a moment to explain, so she could see that the feelings I have for Holland are genuine before she blew up and stormed out.
If there’s one thing Emery is, it’s passionate. I’ll respect her wishes for space for now, but I can’t let her stay angry at me. Not over this.
Sighing, I shove my phone in the pocket of my hoodie and walk back to Holland’s door. I want to knock again and check on her, to make sure she’s okay, but I also don’t want her to pull away from me anymore than she did the past few days.
Hopefully by morning, she’ll want to talk, and we can figure all of this out together. Because, even though Emery is angry at us right now, and I knew that it would inevitably happen, my feelings for Holland aren’t going to change. The sooner I can explain that to Emery, the better.
I walk back to my room, shed my clothes and climb into bed and under the covers. The last thing I remember thinking before I fall asleep is that the sheets still smell like Holland, and how even though tonight didn’t go at all how I planned, I don’t regret it for a fucking second.