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Just Friends

Page 7

by Jennifer Sucevic


  You know who I blame for this?

  Colton.

  He put this stupid idea in my head. Yeah, the sneaky bastard never actually came out and said that I should date Em, but he alluded to other guys going after her.

  What the hell else did he expect me to do?

  Emerson should be grateful that I’m trying to help solve this problem instead of being pissed off. This is exactly why I steer clear of relationships. When it comes down to it, I have no idea what girls want. And I don’t have the time or inclination to figure it out either.

  Except the same rules don’t apply to this situation or this specific girl because this is Em we’re talking about. Somehow, I have to find a way to fix this. I just don’t know how to do that.

  Yet.

  But I’ll figure it out. I always do.

  “I don’t know what you did, but you certainly put a burr up that girl’s ass.”

  I blink and find Stella leaning against the doorjamb with her arms folded across her ample bosom. There’s a shitload of pity held in her gaze.

  Which only confirms that this situation is as bad as I suspected it was.

  When I remain silent, she arches a penciled-in brow. “You going to tell me what you did to make her so mad?”

  I straighten to my full height and try bluffing my way out of this conversation. “What makes you think I did anything?”

  A knowing smirk curls around the edges of her lips. “I’ve been married to the same man for nearly forty years.” She steps inside the breakroom until she’s able to pat my cheek with her hand. “What I’ve learned is that the ones with the X and Y chromosomes are always in the wrong.”

  I roll my eyes and suppress a snort.

  Nice try, but I don’t think so.

  There might be an occasion or two when I slip-up, but that doesn’t necessarily mean I’m always in the wrong simply because I’m a man. That’s sexist and frankly, I’m insulted. I will not, however, be arguing the point with Stella. I’m smart enough to know when to keep my trap shut and this is definitely one of those times.

  “So, what happened?” she asks, concern lacing her voice.

  As close as Emerson is to Stella, it’s highly doubtful she would want the older woman knowing about last night.

  I shrug and keep it general. “She took offense to my offer of assistance.”

  It doesn’t get anymore vague than that.

  “Huh.” She lifts a brow. “Exactly how did you propose to help with her virginity?”

  I blink, unsure how to respond.

  A spark of anger ignites in her eyes. “Yeah, I know all about what happened at that stupid frat party.”

  My mouth opens, but I slam it shut and shake my head.

  Thankfully she continues, because I’m at a loss.

  “Some kids stopped in this morning for breakfast. I overheard them laughing about it. There aren’t many girls named Emerson, so it didn’t take much to put two and two together.”

  I groan. This is bad on so many levels. Emerson would die if she knew Stella had caught wind of what’s going on.

  I clear my throat and ask cautiously, “You haven’t mentioned any of this to Em, have you?”

  “Of course not.” She straightens her shoulders and glares. “My girl has a lot of pride. If she wants to talk about it, then she’ll tell me herself. If not, she’ll never be the wiser.”

  “Good.” I blow out a relieved breath as this information rolls around in my head.

  A calculating light enters Stella’s eyes. “You never answered the question.” She pauses. “Exactly how did you offer to help with the situation?”

  Sheesh. Really?

  “Not like that,” I grumble, slightly offended.

  “Better not have.” She gives me a pert look and wags her finger in my direction. “I’d hate to have Hank wipe the floor with your ass.”

  Hank is probably somewhere in his late sixties. Hell, he could even be in his early seventies. It’s hard to tell. So, I’m not all that concerned about the threat. But still…

  I get where she’s coming from and appreciate that she’s looking out for Em.

  “I told her that we should go out.” When Stella’s forehead remains furrowed, I make a gesture with my hand. “You know, like date.”

  A wide smile breaks out across her face as she pats my cheek again. “It’s about time you came to your senses, boy. Hank and I were on the verge of losing all hope.”

  Huh?

  Wait a minute—

  Oh…she thinks that we’re together. Like together-together.

  I shake my head. “All I’m trying to do is protect her, Stella. If the two of us are going out, then all of this crap will die down.” When she remains silent, I add, “You know that Em and I are just friends.”

  And if I sometimes imagine what my friend looks like naked, well…we’ll keep that little tidbit to ourselves.

  She shifts her weight as her expression turns skeptical. “You sure about that?”

  Hell, no.

  “Completely,” I confirm with far more certainty than I’m feeling. Stella is the second person today to question my feelings for Emerson. Am I that transparent?

  She huffs out an exasperated breath. “You’re a smart guy, Reed Philips. You better open your eyes or that girl is going to slip right through your fingers.”

  Ummm…

  When I fail to respond, she claps me on the shoulder and leaves me standing in the breakroom alone to ponder our strange conversation. Stella has it all wrong. Emerson isn’t interested in me as anything more than a friend. She’s made that perfectly clear. Especially after that kiss last night. So yeah, I’m not going to push the situation any further.

  I blow out a breath and consider my options.

  Who knows? Maybe Em has the right idea. Maybe everything will die down and there’s nothing to be concerned about. For her sake, I hope that’s the case.

  As soon as I return to the main dining area, my gaze is immediately snagged by Emerson. Irritation slides through me when I see her talking to the same bunch of guys as when I walked in earlier.

  What the hell are they still doing here?

  Shouldn’t they have paid their bill and taken off already?

  My feet grind to a halt as she flashes them a full-wattage smile. She sure as hell wasn’t looking at me like that five minutes ago. And why that should piss me off, I have no idea.

  Before I realize that I’m on the move, I find myself hovering over Emerson.

  Her eyes darken with storm clouds when she sees me. Obviously, she’s still irritated because she turns back to the table and says sweetly, “Whenever you’re ready, you can take care of the bill with Stella at the counter. Have a great day!”

  Then she breezes by me without one damn word.

  Feeling annoyed and strangely unsure how to proceed, I stare after her. Once Emerson disappears into the kitchen, I swing around and glare, making sure to eyeball each and every one of these jokers before growling, “That waitress you were just talking to?”

  All of the easy banter from moments ago dies a quick death. Which is exactly the way it needs to stay.

  When I have their undivided attention, I place my hands on the table and lower myself to eye level. “If any of you so much as look in her direction again, you’ll be wearing your balls for earrings.” I pause, allowing those words to sink in. “You got me?”

  The spokesman of the group clears his throat. “Yeah, Philips, we got you.”

  Another dude holds up his hands. “Sorry, Reed. We had no idea she was yours.”

  I don’t correct his assumption.

  When it comes down to it, Emerson is mine.

  Just not in the way he means.

  Chapter Twelve

  Emerson

  Zoey, one of the waitresses who works at Stella’s, gives me a wave as she rushes through the door. I smile and deliver a plate of food before glancing at the clock over the long stretch of counter only to realize it’s after fo
ur o’clock, which means that my shift is officially over for the day. That’s one of the best things about working at Stella’s, time always flies because I’m busy with customers. Hours can slip by and I barely notice.

  “You’re late,” Stella barks from behind the register.

  Zoey winces and holds up her hand in apology. “Sorry, Stella! It won’t happen again.”

  “That’s what you said last week,” the older woman grumbles.

  Like me, Zoey is a student at Southern University. She’s a sophomore who started working here at the end of the spring semester last year. I will fully admit that the girl is flighty. But she makes up for it with exuberance.

  Zoey’s gaze settles on me again and she mouths, “I need to talk to you! It’s important!”

  I really shouldn’t leave the floor until Zoey returns from the backroom to take my place. Although I’m curious as to what that look is all about.

  Even though we’re still pretty busy, it doesn’t seem like anyone needs my attention at the moment. I give Zoey a quick nod and trail after her. By the time I reach the back, she’s already shoved her purse inside her locker.

  As soon as I walk through the door, she pounces on me, grabbing my arms and shaking me until my teeth clatter. “OMG, I just heard the juiciest rumor about you!”

  And just like that, everything I had been trying so hard not to think about, comes crashing down around me. It’s like she took a pin and popped the self-protective bubble I’d wrapped around myself for the afternoon.

  My shoulders slump. I’m afraid to even ask. “Zoey—”

  “Is it true?” Her eyes are wide with eager curiosity.

  There are three things you need to know about Zoey. One, everything revolves around her sorority (Sigma Sigma Sigma) and Greek life. Two, her time management skills suck which is why she’s always late for work and class. And three, she’s a huge gossip. If you want to know what people at Southern are dishing about, she’s the first person you hit up. She knows everything about everyone. Normally, that has nothing to do with me. But I’m guessing by the excited look on her face, that isn’t the case today.

  When I remain silent, she digs her perfectly manicured nails (painted royal purple and white, the official colors of the sorority) into my bare arms. “Well?” She hauls me closer. “You have to tell me!” She pauses dramatically before the words shoot from her lips in an explosion of rapid fire. “Are you really a virgin?”

  “Ow!” I pry Zoey’s claws from my forearms and take a step back, massaging the indentations she left in my skin.

  If Zoey knows about it, then everyone does. “Where did you hear that?” I ask cautiously, evading the question.

  She rolls her blue eyes. “I was at the Alpha Delta Phi party last night, silly. You know they’re our brother fraternity.” She continues talking a mile a minute. “Anyway, that’s where I heard it first.”

  “First?” My heart sinks to the bottom of my toes.

  “Yeah.” She takes a step closer and I’m half-afraid she’s going to grab hold of me again. “A couple of girls at the house were gabbing about it this morning.”

  A groan slips free from my mouth.

  Aw hell!

  “You didn’t answer the question, Emerson! Inquiring minds want to know.” She pauses. “Give it to me straight, are you still a virgin?”

  I shake my head as my mind cartwheels. “I’m going to plead the fifth on that one.”

  “Oh, come on!” She stomps her foot. Unlike me, she’s not wearing a comfortable pair of tennis shoes, but cute kitten heels. “All of my sisters are wondering if it’s true! How can I confirm or deny the information when you won’t give me the lowdown?”

  “Maybe because it’s no one else’s business but my own?” I shrug and inch my way toward the hall. When I get to the door, I jerk my thumb toward the dining area. “I need to get back out there.”

  “We’ll talk soon,” she hollers as I rush from the room.

  Not if I can help it.

  Thankfully, by the time Zoey makes it out on the floor, a few more customers have trickled in and there’s no time for her to interrogate me again. Twenty minutes later, I’ve closed out most of my tabs, grabbed my purse, and am beelining for the door. Normally, I love being at Stella’s. It’s my home away from home. Sometimes I linger to help Zoey out since she gets flustered easily.

  That’s not the case today.

  “I’ll text you later,” Zoey chirps as she walks by with a tray full of food.

  I think she’s taking her journalism major a little too seriously. Who does she think she is? TMZ?

  With one final wave in Stella’s direction, I push through the door. As soon as the fresh air hits my cheeks, I stop and inhale a big breath before slowly releasing it. My shoulders fall as some of the tension melts from them. Thank God, today is almost over. Now I can go home and—

  “Hey, Em.”

  Startled out of my thoughts, I yelp and swing around.

  Tyler holds up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  My hand flies to my chest as if that alone will settle the thunderous galloping of my heart. “What are you doing here?”

  My gaze roams over his battered face. He’s sporting a black eye and his nose is bruised and swollen. He’s a mess. Reed shouldn’t have hit him, but I can’t bring myself to feel bad about it.

  Tyler lowers his hands before stuffing them in the pockets of his shorts and jerking his shoulders into a shrug. “I was hoping we could talk.” He glances at the restaurant. “I didn’t want to bother you while you were working, so I waited outside.”

  Any other time, I would be appreciative of the consideration.

  I shift my weight and try to think up an excuse, but nothing comes to mind. “After last night, I’m not sure we have anything to discuss.”

  I can’t even look at Tyler without seeing that girl hunkered over him and the intense look of gratification on his face before he realized Reed and I had interrupted his little party.

  Ty yanks his hands from his pockets and drags one through his chestnut-colored waves, pushing them off his forehead and away from his face. It was his messy brown hair with its streaks of red that first caught my attention.

  “I wanted to apologize again for what happened,” he murmurs.

  “When did you apologize the first time?” I stab a finger in his direction as I mentally rehash last night. “All I remember is that you tried pinning the blame on me.”

  He has the decency to wince as flags of embarrassment stain his cheeks. “Yeah, I know and I’m sorry about that. What I did was shitty.”

  “Damn right, it was.”

  We fall into an uncomfortable silence. When nothing more seems forthcoming, I hitch my bag further up my shoulder.

  “Thanks for the apology but I’ve got to go.” I push past him and stalk to the gravel lot on the side of the restaurant where my trusty Toyota Corolla is parked. Not wanting to let him off the hook so easily, I yell over my shoulder, “Thanks to you, my personal business is a hot topic of conversation.”

  Reed’s teammates.

  Zoey and the Tri Sigmas.

  The entire population of Southern, for all I know.

  Am I being melodramatic?

  Maybe.

  Then again, maybe not. It remains to be seen how big of an issue this will turn out to be. My belly tightens at the thought of all these people spreading rumors about me. So, if Tyler thinks some lame ass apology is going to cut it, he’s out of his mind.

  Clearly not getting the hint that this conversation has come to an abrupt halt, Tyler trails after me. “I don’t know why I said it.” Desperation fills his voice. “I was really wasted.”

  “Seriously,” I snap, not bothering to swing around. “That’s your excuse?’’ If I never lay eyes on Tyler Sanvol again, it’ll be too soon. The moment my car comes into view, I click the locks and quicken my pace.

  “If I could go back and change what I di
d, I would. In a heartbeat.”

  Yeah well, you can’t. That’s not how life works.

  I grit my teeth, not bothering to respond. Ty can stick his apology up his ass. All he’s trying to do is soothe his own guilt.

  Just as I yank open the car door, Tyler grabs my hand. My gaze drops to his fingers which are now wrapped around mine. A thick shudder of disgust slides through me. He’s the last person I want touching me. I pull my hand from his and glare.

  “Tell me what I can do to make this up to you,” he pleads. When I don’t respond, his tongue darts out to moisten his lips as he gives me sad puppy-dog eyes. “Give me a chance to make this right. We were so good together, Em.”

  “Good together?” I hoot with disbelief. “How good could we have been if you were willing to cheat on me?”

  “I wasn’t thinking straight. You know what I’m like when I have too many tequila shots.”

  I roll my eyes, unmoved by his excuse.

  “I love you,” he whispers.

  When he reaches out for a second time, I take a hasty step away.

  Does Tyler really think that dropping the I-love-you bomb for the first time after I found him cheating on me is going to salvage our relationship?

  I shake my head, refusing to waver. “No, you don’t.”

  He straightens to his full height as a look of frustration washes over his features. “Why are you trying to tell me how I feel?”

  I blink, surprised that I have to keep explaining myself. “If you actually loved me, you wouldn’t have wanted another girl to touch you. And then, when you got caught, you would have been remorseful instead of trying to blame me for your poor choices.”

  Tyler doesn’t love me. And I most certainly don’t love him. I liked him. That was the extent of it. We were never meant for the long haul. We were a here-and-now kind of thing. He may not realize that, but I do.

  His shoulders slump under the weight of my words. “I don’t know what to say to make this better. I just want another chance.”

  “There’s nothing else to say.” I waggle my finger between us. “You and me ended when I found your cock in another girl’s mouth.”

 

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