Page 71 of The Love Rematch
Nothing.
“Jake!” she growls.
Nothing.
Her fist meets drywall, and she spins, wildly searching for a chair to break the stupid barrier down. Her gaze snags on the light streaming through the curtains.
The curtains…
Emily runs across the room and throws them apart, revealing the balcony. In a flash, she’s outside. Warm sunshine prickles her cheeks. Wind whips her hair. The Eiffel Tower pokes up over the buildings across the street, a view she’s spent most of her life dreaming about, but her eyes drop immediately to the man sitting on the balcony to her left. His legs dangle over the edge and his face is firmly pressed against the wrought iron railing. He looks more like he’s in jail than in the most romantic city in the world.
“Jake.”
This time her voice is soft, almost lost on the breeze. He doesn’t even flinch. His usual suit jacket is gone, and the white shirt beneath is rumpled. His hair sticks up in clumps, the oils from his hands leaving it greasy from having run his fingers through it so many times. If she could see his eyes, she knows they’d be bloodshot and dark as the ocean at midnight.
“Jake, look at me.”
He doesn’t.
He won’t.
The only indication he’s heard her is the clench of his already tight jaw.
“Jake. Please, look at me.”
“No.”
His voice hits her like a wrecking ball, taking down every last shred of restraint. It’s vacant and cold, no hint of the boy she once knew.
“Talk to me, please.”
“Go away, Emily.”
Not Em.
Emily.
Just like she wanted, only now at the sound, she wants to reach across the distance between them and absolutely throttle him for using it.
“Jake, if you don’t look at me right now, I’ll—I’ll—”
She cuts off, not even sure how to complete the sentence. As far as threats go, it’s pretty much a complete failure. Except that the corner of his mouth twitches just enough that nothing else matters.
“Jake. Jake!”
Before Emily even realizes what she’s doing, her foot is on the railing. They’re five stories up. The very hard sidewalk very far below them would most certainly kill her if she fell, which really isn’t how she always imagined her first trip to Paris. But his balcony is three feet away. Three measly feet! A child could make it. She can practically reach across the distance with her hand.
He must be able to read her mind because the exact moment she lifts herself fully onto the railing, he spins toward her with horror in his eyes.
“Emily, what the hell—”
Too late.
She jumps, possessed by some sort of spider monkey as she sails across the opening to slam fully into his chest. She claws at his shoulders. Her heart pounds as she hooks her ankles behind his back. He catches her with a grunt, and she melts into his chest. For a moment, nothing else matters. It’s been seven years since she’s let him get this close. His breath tickles her neck. His warmth sinks into her skin. His scent wraps around her, a fresh ocean breeze blowing through the trees, wild and untamable. Suddenly she’s back in high school with her heart in her throat, except this isn’t a boy. He’s a man, muscular and hard in all the right places. Fire zips down her spine at the way his large fingers dig into her thighs. Now, she’s back in her dream, back in the shower, back with his skin on her skin and a moan on her lips. She’s one breath from shifting her face, bringing their lips closer, until…he goes and ruins it.
“What the fuck, Em!”
Jake sets her down firmly and holds her at arm’s length. He grips her shoulders with a reprimanding look in his eyes.
