Well, at least that somewhat explains it. Even with the explanation, I'm still annoyed. And horny.
"Fine," I snap. "And I'll take care of it myself just as soon as I get out of here. Like I intended to do when you waylaid me. No need to 'pick this up later'." My annoyance doesn't seem to outwardly faze him, and I want out of this bathroom, so I tell him a summary, leaving out most of the details about the security room.
He considers it for a moment then nods. "So you're confused that people care about you?"
"No, I don't understand how they can love me. That's what I'm confused about." Was I not being clear?
"What's to understand? It happens. Not seeing the issue here, doll."
At that my patience snaps. With everything. Every frustration, most of it caused by men, overloads my brain, and I start to lose my shit.
"How, Emmett? In that short amount of time, under those horrid conditions, how could not one, but two strangers fall in love with me? It isn't logical."
"They're men, Lark," he retorts. "They're aware of what they want, and what they want is you. Why does time matter? Is there a set number of days or interactions that dictate when it's appropriate to develop feelings for someone?"
"That's not what— urgh!" I take a breath and try to consider what he's saying before my mouth gets me in more trouble. Definitely a first for me. "Well, when you put it like that, I suppose not. It just doesn't make sense to me." I am genuinely having a hard time believing it.
"What's to make sense? Do you not think you deserve love? Or aren't pretty enough? Good enough? What?" Apparently, he's having a hard time too.
I wave him off that train of thought and hop down off the counter to stand, while I try to explain. "No, nothing like that. I know I'm attractive, and everyone deserves someone to love them." He has to back up, nearly falling on the toilet, as I wave my arm at myself. "Regardless, looks don't matter as long as the other person is appealing to you. I mean, I'm confused about it. Is it real or is it circumstantial? And with Rex and all," I flap my hand off to the side, using the gesture to help make my point, "it's just a lot. I want a 'why'."
"In that case, why is the grass green?"
"I don't know, something with photosynthesis and pigment–" He doesn't let me finish.
"Why do dogs bark and cats meow?" Huh?
"I don't know. Emmett, are you–" He talks over me again.
"Why won't you admit you're in love with Braeden?"
"I don't know! It's just… Hey! Not cool. That doesn't count. Besides, we were talking about Marcus and Apollo."
"We were. But that wasn't giving us the whole picture, now was it? Let's try again," he goes on before I can answer him. "Why won't you admit you're in love with me?" He was flippant, but genuine hurt underlays his words.
"What? Quit changing the subject. Don't make me kick you." I scowl at him, trying to deflect.
"I'll take your touch however you want to give it to me, Wildcat."
"I thought it was Hellcat?" I retort.
"I think they're interchangeable." His voice changes to sound somehow soft and seductive and harsh all at once. "Wildcat when you're prickly or coming so hard your brain scrambles. Hellcat when you're feisty and furious, bent on putting a kink in some poor S.O.B's dick."
"Sketchy Angelboy," I mumble, not meeting his eye.
"What's that? Sketchy?" His expression, changing as quick as heated mercury, lights up. "I'll show you sketchy." Emmett captures my hand, yanking me to him, and I don't know if he's going to tickle me or kiss me, or which I'd prefer. "Or maybe I'll show you a bad angel, cuz we both know I'm no boy."
Oh dear lord. If I wasn't already knocked up, that right there might do it.
"Why do you look at me like that? You give Braeden that look too. As if you'd like to crawl into my skin with me and never leave. You used to hate me."
"I didn't hate you, exactly. I was attracted to and annoyed by you. It felt wrong, being as I was with Rex." This discussion is making me highly uncomfortable. Vulnerable.
"And now? Does it still feel wrong?" Is that an edge of hope in his tone?
"Not really, no. But it's also all mixed up with the others. I know, I know you're all adults and able to make your own decisions, etc. You're right, but what if I put it out there, and it's not well received by everyone? I can't exactly take it back, now can I? What if I ruin everything and end up alienating everyone?" Because that right there, in a nutshell, is what terrifies me.
"So you'll be a coward, instead." It wasn't a question, and he ignores my outraged huff. "Just going to bury your head like an ostrich and pretend nothing is there? That you aren't the sun that all of us planets are orbiting, seeking your light and warmth?" Angelboy has the Devil's tongue. "Give us your light, Lark. Let us decide if we want to risk getting close enough to burn."
Seriously, what the fuck am I supposed to say to that? I nod my head. "Yeah, okay. I'll think about it." That doesn't appear to appease him in the least. "Really, I will. It's just kinda— well, you just about made my damn head explode, so I'm gonna need to process." He nods in understanding. "Thanks, Emmett. I'm going to head up and take care of..." I trail off and gesture at my pants, but he apparently has other ideas.
"Oh, no, you don't. Don't think you're escaping that easily. I have plans for you." He steers me through the big house toward the stairs. And the bedrooms.
"Umm, Em? I'm not sure I'm ready to, well, you see…" How am I supposed to tell him I wanted him one minute but am afraid the next?
"Get your mind out of the gutter, Birdbutt. I have something else in mind." Oooh! He dodges my swat, ducking down before my palm can connect with the back of his head. Lucky me, it just gives my other hand the opportunity to sneak out and flick the tip of his ear. "Ow, damn it! Alright, I give already. I apologize. It's a very nice butt. Now come on, get changed, and come inflict some pain on the ones you're as happy with as you are me." The cheeky shit gives me a big innocent grin that can't bode well for the others.