Wicked Restless (Harper Boys #2)(78)

“Great,” Emma finally says in return, her great far less enthused. I stare at her. I’m a little baffled over the fact that this is all happening in front of me, especially after the things we’ve talked about, the progress we made…thought we made.

“So I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ll come by…around eight,” he says, backing away slowly. I notice he never leans in to kiss her cheek. He’s not cocky enough to do that. That’s probably a good thing, because my hand is flexed at my side, and I think if he did, I’d punch his f*cking face in. Then I’d step on his shoes.

I keep my stare on Emma, and when she turns from watching Captain Douchebag saunter away, she meets my gaze, then immediately drops her focus to the ground.

“Just some guy, huh?” I laugh.

“His name’s Graham, Andrew,” she sighs. “And it’s not a thing with us, it’s just…it’s complicated to explain,” she shrugs, glancing around me. She can’t even make eye contact with me now.

“The dude’s named after a cracker, Emma. Seriously?” I look beyond her where I can still see him walking down the main path where he’s met up with two other guys that look just like him. He isn’t small. In fact, we’re probably roughly the same size. He’s just covered in so much…douchebaggery…it makes him look smaller. His pants are pink. What the f*ck? “I thought we were past this…or that you wanted…shit, I don’t know…what I wanted? I thought we…”

“Lindsey’s here,” she cuts me off. The expression on her face is blank at first then it’s instantly replaced by the fakest of smiles. I can tell her expression is a lie, though—her eyes give her away. They’re full of regret and wishes. “Whatever you were about to say…don’t. Lindsey is here, walking toward us. She’s my best friend, Andrew. You started this, and I don’t think I can lose Lindsey because of it. She’s been through so much with me, and I can’t—”

“Hey, I’ve been looking for you,” Lindsey says from behind me. She slides her arm around me, her fingers running over my stomach and chest as she hugs me from behind. Emma turns away, but not before the look of pain flashes over her face. I shut my eyes and breathe deeply.

“Hi, yeah…sorry. I’ve been crazy busy with practice and classes.” Lie, lie, lie. I’ve been ignoring you, not dealing with the beast I created, running away from my consequences, while I pine after the love of my past and drown in the truth.

“It’s okay. I was just worried…you know, about your bruises. Your eye looks better,” she says, reaching to touch my cheekbone lightly. It takes all of my willpower not to turn away—not because it hurts, but because I don’t want Lindsey touching it. I don’t want Emma seeing Lindsey touch it.

“Yeah…I heal quickly,” I say, all of my attention on Emma. I’m not even sure I said that last part out loud.

My trance is broken when a yellow Velcro strap slides along the ground, sticking to my leg. I bend down to pick it up as some guy from our student government waves his hands emphatically on the nearby stage, the microphone in his hand.

“And we have our second team of players. You,” he shouts, pointing at me. I glance around and look back at him, pointing to myself as he nods. “It’s a hundred-dollar bookstore card if you win the three-legged race. Get on up here with your partner.”

“I’m good, dude,” I say, not wanting to be part of some stupid spirit week activity. But Lindsey changes my mind. Lindsey, of all people, changes everything.

“Oh my god, no…you have to do this. Trust me. You and Emma—she is the freaking master at this. Remember, Em? Last year, at the pre-med picnic? Seriously, it’s like she was born for this race. Everyone who was her partner won.” Lindsey waves her hand at the stage, buying us time while she urges her friend to join me. If Lindsey only knew.

“I don’t really feel up to it, Linds,” Emma starts.

“I really could use a hundred bucks credit,” I say just for guilt. Suddenly, I’m desperate for her to do this race with me, to come with me, to give me five more minutes of her time. Her eyes slide up to meet mine, and I say something entirely different to her with my look. I beg her. Please, do this one stupid thing with me. I can’t explain it, but I feel like this might be the turn.

Emma glances back to her friend, who is literally jumping up and down while clapping. She sighs and reaches for the Velcro strap, taking it from me and walking toward the stage. I trail behind, ignoring Lindsey’s touch on my back, her encouragement and cheer for me. All I see is the wild strands of Emma’s hair twisting in the wind like the fingers of temptation calling me to them.

It’s going to storm tonight. I can smell it in the air.



* * *





Emma


I hate spirit week. Whose idea was it to have field day anyhow? I’m finding out, then I’m going to sink their campaign when they run for student government again. I might run against them. My platform will be to do away with forced audience participation.

When I get to the chair at the starting line, I sit down, moving my leg as far away from the edge as I can so I don’t have to feel him. I can’t feel him. Why doesn’t he get that? He started this—he’s the one who decided to get to me through Lindsey. And she can’t be hurt by whatever happens next. It doesn’t matter what his reasons were, or what happened in our past.