Page 8 of Quarantine Crush
I know because I’m losing my shit too.
All at once, strong hands land on my shoulders, pushing me back. At the same time, Knox backs away, breaking us apart. He stares at me, eyes wide and mouth open in shock.
He looks at me like I have three heads. “Uh, what are you– I mean, we’re not– Embry, we’re just friends.”
I stare at him for a full beat, mortification paralyzing me and honestly maybe even freezing time itself. Oh, if only I were that lucky.
3
Knox
What the actual fuck?
My brain feels broken.
Every time I try to ask what that was all about, my jumbled thoughts get stuck in my suddenly bone-dry mouth.
“Em?” I croak.
Her expression is pure horror, and as the moment stretches, her cheeks flush crimson.
Even though I’m not sure what the hell just happened, I am absolutely certain that it can never be undone. Shit just changed forever, and I feel like a complete asshole for reasons I can’t yet put into words.
“Emy, I’m so sorry,” I say, shaking my head and fully prepared to grovel until she forgives me–for what, I’m not sure, but I need this girl to remain my friend.
She’s been the one constant in my life, my anchor, and without her, I’d be adrift at sea.
As if in slow motion, she blinks, and her expression transforms. The shock and embarrassment drain away, replaced by the fakest smile I’ve ever seen her wear. It’s so forced, my chest aches.
“Gotcha!” She grins, and I wince because I can tell this effort is costing her.
“Uh, what?” I blink, unable to think past the fact that my best friend actually kissed me. I want to run. Or hug her. Or turn back time.
“Oh my God, you should have seen your face.”
My face? What about her face?
“It was a total joke. I was messing with you.”
My eyes dart to where her phone is propped up on the counter. “You recorded us kissing as a prank?”
“Part prank. Part dare, actually,” she says, her cheeks turning pink. “Hadley required video evidence that I actually did it or she threatened to cut all of my thongs as revenge.”
“That’s–” I break off, shuffling awkwardly on my feet. Hadley. The name is familiar. I’ve heard Emy mention her before, but this is crazy. My jet-lagged brain can’t keep up.
“Weird as hell, I know,” she says, chewing on her thumbnail. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have wrapped you up in one of her stupid dares.”
My mind spins as I try to understand what the hell she’s talking about.
“I should probably let you get settled,” she says, backing up a few steps. “The bathroom is right down that hall, and the couch is a pullout. Make yourself comfortable, and I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”
I look over at her phone again and see whatever video she’s been streaming of this is still going. She follows my gaze and then snatches her phone off the counter, her expression registering more shock. “Shit,” she whispers. “I was live?”
“Em, wait–”
She’s already down the hall and in her bedroom before I can make myself move to follow. The click of her lock makes it clear we’re done here tonight.
I sag against the counter, grabbing for my beer and drinking deep. Maybe with enough alcohol, I can wipe this last hour from my mind.
