Unbreakable(19)

He rolls over to face me. “It’s different with us, Em. It’s always been different. I can’t compare what we have to anything or anyone else in my life.”

My heart beats faster in the darkness as he studies me. I want so much to reach out and touch his face. To pull him close and feel his lips on mine.

“Today, after we went for a ride on the quad, I thought that you were going to kiss me.” My voice nearly disappears. “I wanted you to.”

He lets out a long sigh and rolls over onto his back, away from me.

“Why didn’t you?”

“You know why.” His voice takes on a hard edge. “Don’t go there. Please.”

“We have a few more days alone. It’s getting harder to ignore the sparks flying between us. And it’s really hard for me to not want you to kiss me. How can we fight this?”

He covers his face with his hands. “Because we have no other choice.”

“Don’t we?”

“No. There’s no other choice for me.”

I settle back in the sleeping bag, but unfortunately, I just can’t drop it.

“I wish things were different. I wish that we could… that you didn’t feel like you had to steer clear of me.”

“I know, but I can’t, Emmy. Please understand.” The anguish in his voice makes my heart hurt.

“Okay,” I say softly. “I’ll try.”

He takes my hand in his, almost as if in apology, and gives it a squeeze.

I think when you reach my age, you start learning that everything isn’t black and white, and life isn’t fair. It definitely doesn’t feel fair right now.

I stare up through the clear plastic skylight in the tent at the cluster of twinkling stars in the night sky. I’d make a wish, but that’s nothing but a fool’s game. All of the wishes in the world aren’t going to change my reality.





Chapter Nine





WILL




Birds have been chirping like crazy for the past half an hour, and the sun hasn’t even peeked over the horizon yet. I stifle a yawn and look down at Emmy. She’s cuddled against me, with her head pressed into the crook of my arm and one hand draped across my stomach. She’s plastered to my body, and it’s pure heaven.

I press my lips against the top of her head, and she lets out a contented sigh. I love that she’s so relaxed with me, even in sleep. I f*cking cherish it. There’s an implicit sense of trust that exists between us that’s been there for the past three years. It’s unbreakable.

The sweet, light scent of her perfume—honeysuckle and violets—lingers in the air. I bury my face in her hair and pull her closer.

If I could have things my way, I’d wake her by kissing along her neck. I’d slide my lips along her jaw and over to that full, lush mouth. We’d get into it, kissing softly and deeply. It wouldn’t take long for our kisses to spin out of control, and we’d need more.

I’d slip her panties down those sexy legs and slowly ease myself inside her body. She’d open for me, bringing me closer until I’m buried balls deep inside of her, right where I need to be. I’d find a slow rhythm that drives us both crazy, and she’d whisper my name in that sweet way she has as I run my hands all over her body. I’d—

I open my eyes and cut that fantasy off. Cut it off right at the knees. I can’t hold her like this for another second, because I don’t trust my heart or my hands. I’m going to give her exactly what she wants if I stay here. I’m too turned on to fight these feelings.

Reluctantly, I gently extract myself from her grasp. She rolls over with a sigh, blissfully unaware that I’m exiting the tent or of the birds that are currently singing the song of their people as loudly as f*cking possible.

I zip up the tent (I don’t want her waking up with another mutant spider nearby) and head inside the house to shower and jack off. I can’t handle holding her like that without inflicting a severe case of blue balls, and I need a little relief.

Later, when I’m downstairs making a fresh pot of coffee, it doesn’t take long for me to realize my desire is back in full-force. I’m like a horny teenager around her.

If I thought I could f*ck Emmy out of my system, I’d have hooked up with a thousand different women by now. But after sleeping with a few, I quickly realized that things just don’t work that way. At least, they don’t for me.

I don’t want a substitute for Emmy. I want the real thing, and no one else will do.

Needing to work off some more nervous energy, I gather up all of the products I’ll need to give the kitchen a thorough cleaning. I mop the floors, scrub the counters, and wipe down every surface. Doing this kills an hour as well as my hard-on, so I switch gears and get to work making us breakfast.

Emmy opens the side door around 9 a.m. and gives me a sheepish look.

“I’m sorry, Will. I didn’t mean to sleep so long. I guess I was really tired.”

“No big deal. I made breakfast. Do you want to eat outside?”

Her face falls. “Oh, shit. I’m supposed to have breakfast with Jackson at ten o’clock.”

Fuck, that’s right. Breakfast with Crew Cut. I try hard not to let my disappointment show. “That’s right. Forgot about that.”