Page 64 of Resisting the Temptation
“I wasn’t fucking him, actually,” I tease, trying to hide my anxiety with humor.
“And you never will.” Ben nods resolutely. “We’re leaving now. So let’s say goodbye.”
“What? Why?”
His jaw works back and forth. “Because if I have to watch you flirt with Mateo any longer, I might kill my own brother.”
I huff. “You’re beingsodramatic right now. I wasn’t flirting with your brother. We were literally just talking.”
“He touched you, Emma. I’d say that was more than talking.”
I’m partially irritated at his protectiveness but mostly swooning. No one’s ever been possessive of me like this. “Whatever. Let me thank your parents for lunch, and we can go.”
He doesn’t say anything, just nods and walks out the door.
Chapter 30
Ben
It took us twenty minutes to leave my parents’ house because Mamà wanted to send Emma home with leftovers, then Cici wanted to exchange numbers so they could go talk more about book recommendations and plan a shopping trip sometime.
Finally, after Mateo gave her a hug—that was a little too long for my liking—we’re on the road to my place.
As soon as we drove away, Emma’s shoulders slumped like a weight was lifted from them. She’s been quiet ever since, intermittently tapping away on her phone when she receives a text. I wonder who she’s texting. Is she texting Cici? Or Jordan to tell them about lunch? Is she telling them she didn’t have a good time and trying to come up with an excuse to leave?
When I glance at her again, her face is pulled down into a frown. Is her mom texting her again? Did something happen with her grandpa?
It’s truly none of my business, but since I was there when she got the news, I feel like it’s polite to ask, “How’s your grandpa doing?”
She sighs then tips her head back against the headrest and closes her eyes. “They transferred him back to his house because there’s nothing else they can do for him. He’s incoherent and out of it most of the time. I asked my mom again if I could come out and say goodbye, but she said no—and I know I’m an adult and can make my own choices, but not following my mom’s directions is a recipe for disaster. I found out my two oldest sisters—my dad’s kids, who don’t evenknowhim—are there. My cousin texted me to ask if I was coming too because apparently everyone else gets to say goodbye to him, but I can’t based on some made up rule my mom’s made. Probably because I’m the family disappointment, and she doesn’t want me to taint his last few days with my sins.”
Her mom sounds like a bit of an asshole. I don’t even know how to help her right now, but I want to more than anything.
“Do you want me to take you home? We don’t have to go through with tonight if it’ll be too much for you.”
“No, I want…” she trails off.
“What do you want, Emma?”
“I want you to help me turn my brain off for the night. I don’t want to think anymore,” she whispers, like she’s ashamed of it.
“I can do that. I’ll help you clear your pretty head for a while.”
“Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
Emma is quiet as I give her a quick tour of my house. It’s nothing spectacular, just a three-bedroom, two-bathroom, rambler style home. It was a foreclosure, and I spent the better part of a year fixing it up and making it livable.
I try to see it through her eyes. The kitchen isn’t grand like my parents’, but it’s a decent size with butcher block countertops and bluish gray cabinets with gold handles—Cici’s doing. I would have kept them the ugly beige color they were originally, but Cici told me I needed to make it look homey. I don’t know if Emma cooks, but I can picture her sitting on the counter while I make dinner. She’d chatter on about whatever new hyperfixation she has, and I’d listen because as much as I grumble about how much she talks, I love it.
My house is always so quiet, I know she’d breathe life into the still space.
“Nice place,” Emma says distractedly, glancing around the living room. Her gaze snags on an old family photo, and she walks closer to inspect it.
“Thank you.Mamàand Cici helped a lot with the decorations and furniture so it didn’t look like a ‘bachelor pad,’and while I put up a fight initially, I’m grateful because I didn’t have any idea where to start.” I don’t add that I picked out the furniture for my bedroom, the office, and the guest room, which is only ever used for a specific type of “guest.”
“I was wondering if it was them or Janessa.”
