Page 47 of The E.M.M.A. Effect
“I’m not jealous!” I protest, a bit too quickly. Now E.M.M.A. is what, a mind reader? “I’m just looking out for my friend. I don’t want him to get hurt.”
Of course,E.M.M.A. says, in a tone that makes it clear the AI doesn’t believe me for a second.I recommend you arrange an introduction between Gale and Jasmine. I can provide her manager’s contact details.
I hesitate. This was what I wanted, right? A good match for Gale, someone who isn’t burning through vibrator batteries because she can’t stop imagining him on his knees, looking up with those eager dark eyes... God. Just the thought makes heat pool between my legs, makes me shift in my chair, desperate for friction.
Is matchmaking Gale a good idea? No way. But I have to try, because I am sure E.M.M.A. is right and he does need someone in his life. And not me. Not the woman who’s got a growing collection of bookmarked erotica that would make a romance novelist blush. If I don’t at least attempt to keep my distance, I’m going to end up in a whole world of trouble. I’ve already made out with him twice. Two mind-scrambling, pulse-racing times that left me wanting more. That left me awake at night, fingers sliding between my thighs as I imagined all the ways I could make him beg.
And that’s two times too many.
Shit.
Every time I see him, it’s like my common sense takes a vacation. My heart races, my skin heats up, and I forget every reasonwhy this is a bad idea. One more of those looks from him and I might just throw caution to the wind. But I can’t. I won’t. Even if the temptation is killing me. Which, right now, it definitely feels like it is.
I take a deep breath, trying to ignore the conflicting emotions swirling in my chest. “I... I need to think about it,” I finally say. “Let’s put this on hold for now, okay?”
UNDERSTOOD,E.M.M.A. intones flatly.THIS SYSTEM WILL CONTINUE TO ASSIST FOR FUTURE DECISION-MAKING PROCESSES. TOPICS AVAILABLE FOR PROCESSING: GALE’S COMPATIBILITY ANALYSIS AND CURRENT USER’S EMOTIONAL STATE ASSESSMENT.
I groan, slamming my laptop shut with more force than necessary. I need space.
“Stupid,” I mutter, running a hand through my hair. “So stupid.” I am supposed to be the strong one, with walls a mile high. Instead I’m more like the Palace of Knossos, strong walls, yes, technically, but in my core is a twisty-turny labyrinth and my morals bang around within it as unpredictable as a Minotaur.
I push away from my desk, needing to move, to shake off this digital dependency and face the facts: The only way to keep Gale at arm’s length is if he were to belong to someone else. I’ll keep these newfound cravings where they belong—locked safely in late-night fantasies, in the privacy of my shower, where I can let the hot water run down my body as I imagine his mouth following its path. In the dark when I’m alone with my vibrator and my filthy imagination, when I can pretend it’s him writhing beneath me, begging for permission, those dark eyes desperate as I make him wait.
Because fantasies are all they can ever be.
All they should be.
I stare at my phone, thumb hovering over Gale’s name in mycontacts. Why is this so hard? It’s just a text, for crying out loud. But after our kiss and my subsequent freak-out on the weekend, things have been radio silent.
Taking a deep breath, I finally tap out a message:
Harriet:How was practice?
I hit send before I can overthink it. Gale’s response comes quicker than I expected:
Gale:Great, actually.
My eyebrows shoot up. This is new. Gale has been struggling since being made a healthy scratch.
Me:Yeah? What changed?
Gale:Not sure. Just felt more focused, I guess. Coach even gave me some ice time with the first line.
A smile spreads across my face.
Harriet:That’s awesome, Gale! I’m so proud of you.
Gale:Thanks. It felt good to be back out there, you know? Really playing.
I can almost hear the relief in his words. Before I can respond, another message pops up:
Gale:Hey, this might sound weird, but... think you deserve the credit.
My heart skips. What does he mean by that?
Gale:I’ve been thinking about you. A lot. And by a lot I mean every hour, every minute, all the time. And today, when I was on the ice, I kept remembering what you said about believing in me. It helped.
Oh god. Oh god oh god oh god.This is exactly what I’d been afraid of. I messed everything up with that stupid kiss, and now Gale is... what? Attributing his success to me? It isn’t that simple—can’t be that simple. Having someone truly see you, believe in you, support you through your darkest moments—yes, that could help rebuild the shattered pieces of self-worth. But I can’t let myself become his emotional crutch, his talisman against doubt. That wouldn’t be healthy for either of us.
