Page 75 of Things I Overshared
I had one or two too many, but I will remember every second of this tomorrow, including the last few horrid minutes. I know I sent a pathetic SamStorm earlier, which I’ll regret when the headache wakes me at 6:00a.m.But I have my wits about me for the most part. Sadie was with me, and we stayed on top of our water, ate a ton. He better be jealous, because anything else, and I’m about to give him a piece of my mind.
I march into our suite and straight to his door. I’ve never knocked on it before, so I hesitate. But now he knows I’m standing here. I knock. He opens, standing there in a T-shirt and his slacks. A T-shirt. It must have been under his button-up. It’s so tight across his chest, it throws me completely off. His angry sigh snaps me back to reality.
“It wasn’t what it looked like,” I say, looking at his eyes, unafraid.
“I don’t know what you mean.” His eyes stay fixed on the ground.
“Emerson, Nicole was with us, she just went to the restroom, I wasn’t with him, I just slipped, and he grabbed me so I didn’t fall completely on my ass in the middle of the lobby.”
“All right.”
“Will you look at me?!”
He does, and it’s as if the whole room is dark and his gaze is a bright spotlight, laying me bare.
“It was nothing. I don’t like Thomas like that.”
“Fine,” he says with a shrug, not looking away.
I sigh and close my eyes for a beat, gathering my frantic thoughts. “Earlier today—”
“Was a mistake.” He huffs.
I look up at him, and there’s no softness in his eyes, no warmth.
“It won’t happen again.”
“Why? Because we work together? Or my name? Or the fact that I’m Adam’s little sister-in-law? Or what? What is it?”
His silent face reveals nothing.
“You want me, but you don’twantto want me. So you’re mad at yourself. But . . .” I look down, afraid, but saying the words before I can think to stop myself the further embarrassment: “What about what I want?”
“It doesn’t matter.” He shifts to start to close the door and gives one of his deep exhales. “Miss Canton, it’s late. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Soooo that’s it? My feelings don’t matter, and I’ll see you in the morning?”
“Yes.”
I scoff, throwing my hands up in surrender. “Wow. Okay, Emerson. Okay. See you in the morning.” I turn and stomp off before I do anything stupid like let a tear fall down my face. I don’t hear his door close as I walk away. I go into my room and slam the door and then lean against it, breathing hard so I won’t start crying.
I can’t help it. I think about his lips on mine, as light as a feather.
You are an opus all on your own, Samantha.
Ugh! But that’s not all. The disgust. The cold determination.
It won’t happen again.
It doesn’t matter.
He’s made up his mind, clearly. Better I let go now than later, after we’d kissed and all my hopes had started building into real affection for the jerk. No, absolutely no crying. Operation Melt is over, and it’s time for a new mission: Operation Make It through the Rest of This Trip and Never Talk to Emerson Clark Again.
Who am I kidding.
Dammit!
Chapter 24
