Be the Girl(70)

He pulls back. “Wait. What did you think I meant?” A moment later, as if replaying his words and realizing, his eyes widen. “Oh, shit. No. That’s … no. I’m not asking for that. I mean, it’s not that I don’t want to—”

“I do, too,” I blurt out, but quickly add, “just not yet.”

“Yeah. Not yet.” He brushes a strand of hair from my face, swallowing hard, hesitating. “Is it because … I mean, are you …” His jaw tenses as he fumbles awkwardly around the personal question.

It’s so endearing to see Emmett not confident about something for once that I can’t help but laugh. I decide that I don’t mind him knowing—I want him to know.

I nod.

A soft smile touches his lips as his fingers thread through my hair. “That’s okay. There’s no rush.” He ropes his arms around my shoulders, the weight of them welcomed. Stooping to press his forehead against mine, he whispers, “You having a good time?”

“Yeah. But I’ll have a good time anytime I’m with you.”

That earns me a sweet, soft kiss on the lips.

“Are you crazy?” Zach’s booming voice explodes over the hum of voices and music. “Why the hell did you give that to her?”

We peel away from each other and turn to find Zach squaring off against a smug-faced Adam.

“What?” He shrugs. “She wanted one.”

“Of course she wanted it. She thought it was just a cookie!”

I know without a doubt who the “she” they’re referring to is.

Cassie is on the couch, her face stony as her eyes flicker, surveying the situation and trying to read the sudden tension in the room.

Emmett has picked up on it, too. “What’s going on?” His tone has taken on a razor-sharp edge.

Zach’s normally carefree demeanor has been replaced by a stiff stance and a mixture of rage and apology on his face. “I went outside for a few minutes and this shithead thought it’d be a good idea to give your sister one of his cookies.”

One of his … oh God.

My stomach drops as I realize what’s going on.

This is not happening.

“Are you …” Emmett’s eyebrows climb halfway up his forehead. “You’re kidding, right? This is a joke. Right?”

Adam shrugs. “It’s gonna be funny in about an hour.”

He barely has time to get his hands up.

Emmett moves fast, lunging at the smug asshole, taking him and a table lamp down in the charge. And then his fists are flying with abandon, pummeling Adam’s face over and over.

Shouts erupt and people circle.

My heart pounds like a jackhammer in my chest as I’m torn between wanting Emmett to hurt this guy and not wanting him to get himself into trouble.

Until I spy Cassie, in her spot, her face contorted with confusion and terror, her body trembling, fat tears streaming down her cheeks. Looking … traumatized.

“Zach!” I jerk at his arm. “You need to stop this now. Look at her!”

One glance at Cassie and he’s diving for Emmett, his arms going around his chest.

Meanwhile, I’m shoving people out of my way to reach her.

“Did I do something wrong?” she asks.

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault.”

“Is Emmett mad at me?” Cassie’s mouth is shaped in a perfect pout.

“No. This wasn’t your fault.”

“Okay.” She nods, but the tears keep flowing.

Zach and two guys are herding Emmett backward, away from Adam. A trickle of blood runs from one of Emmett’s nostrils and down over his mouth, but otherwise he looks fine, save for his bloody knuckles and his torn shirt collar.

“Let’s go,” he barks, his tongue touching his upper lip. He lifts the hem of his shirt to wipe at his face. His torso is heaving from his rapid, heavy breaths.

I grab our jackets and help Cassie up as Adam hauls himself off the floor, staggering slightly, his left eye already swelling shut, his nose a mangled mess. He leans over to spit a mouthful of blood onto the floor. “It was only five grams, dickhead.”

Emmett points at him in warning. “If I hear one word about hitting you from anyone, I’ll be telling the cops that you’re drugging fifteen-year-old special needs kids. We’ll see if you think five grams is no big deal then.”

“Did I do drugs?” Cassie’s eyes widen as panic sets in. “I did drugs? What’s going to happen to me?” Her bottom lip wobbles. “Am I going to die?”

“No.” A laugh escapes me, though none of this is funny. “You’re going to be fine.” I put my hand on her shoulder as I lead her toward the door and, while she stiffens, she doesn’t shrug away. “You might feel funny for a bit. You might even laugh a lot.” God, I hope that’s all that happens. What does marijuana do to a mind like Cassie’s?

“I feel funny,” she declares.

I smile softly. “It’s going to take a while for you to feel anything.” Glancing over my shoulder to see how far Emmett is behind us, I catch Adam and Holly in the corner. Holly’s hand is smoothing over his bicep, as if consoling him. Meanwhile, he’s snapping at her. Angry with her about something, it would seem.