Chapter Fourteen

Emmett

I wake to the unwelcome racket of someone knocking energetically on the door. Jenna sits up beside me, blinking blearily, her hair disheveled in an adorable way that makes me want to memorize how she looks right now.

“Huh?” she mumbles.

I couldn’t agree more. At another flurry of brisk knocks, I groan aloud, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. “Coming, coming. Just a damn minute.”

I trudge over and open the door to Aubrey, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. She gives the both of us a sappy smile, as if to coo, Aww, how cute. “Good morning, you two,” she chirps.

I almost growl What do you want? and immediately wonder why I’m in such a shitty mood today. I manage a reasonably friendly sounding “What’s up?” instead.

“The rest of the family was thinking about going out for brunch before everyone heads back home,” Aubrey says. “Want to join us?”

Brunch? What time is it? I squint at the clock. Whoa, it’s almost ten thirty. I was sleeping so deeply, I didn’t even hear my alarm. Good thing Aubrey came by or we’d miss our checkout time.

Jenna, still in her pajamas, pads up behind me. “I’m up for it if you are, Emmett.”

The prospect of one last hangout with my family should sound wonderful, but for some reason, I’d rather eat a bug than have brunch while my family coos all over Jenna. I shake my head. “I’m afraid we should leave soon.”

“Leave? Already?” Aubrey protests. “But—”

“I’m sorry,” I say quickly, interrupting her. “I’m worried about how things are going back at the office.”

Jenna frowns, clearly disappointed, but nods in acceptance. She knows the business world never rests.

“I’m sure they can survive a few more hours without you. You won’t get back to the city until afternoon anyway, so why not just take the whole day off?” Aubrey argues.

“I’m telling you I can’t,” I snap. Shit, that came out way harsher than I intended. I try to soften my tone with a joke. “Wish I could, but you know what Dad always said about upper management . . . couldn’t pour sand out of a boot with instructions written on the heel.”

“All right, if you insist.” Aubrey’s reply is slow and doubtful. “At least grab some of the free breakfast downstairs. It’s been picked over pretty thoroughly, but I think I saw some muffins and yogurt left.”

“We’ll do that.” I reach for the doorknob.

Aubrey adds, “It’s been great seeing you. Hopefully we can do it again soon . . . and feel free to bring Jenna with you.” She winks.

I grit my teeth. “Definitely. I’ll call you.” I shut the door before she can say anything else.

I’m acting like a total dick. I’ll have to apologize later or face my sister’s patented cold shoulder. I should probably apologize to Jenna too for depriving her of a nice brunch; she couldn’t exactly stay without me, since I’m her ride. But right now, all I can focus on is the desperate need to get the hell out of here.

I have no idea why I’m so edgy. In the light of day, it all seems suddenly overwhelming—how great spending time with Jenna has been, how much my whole family loves her, how intense last night was, everything about this trip. Which doesn’t make any sense . . . those should have all been good things. And they were at the time, but now they scrape and scratch at me like sandpaper.

We shower in a hurry and get dressed, pack our suitcases, eat quickly and quietly, and are soon on our way. In the car, Jenna shoots me quick sidelong glances every few minutes, like she’s trying to keep an eye on a wild animal without provoking it.

After almost half an hour, she finally asks, “Did I . . . do something wrong?”

Guilt twinges in my stomach. Shit, I’ve freaked her out. I shouldn’t let my inexplicable grouchiness poison the air like that. “No, you’re fine,” I quickly reassure her. “I just need to get back to the city.”

“I see,” she says softly. Then she turns away to look out the passenger window.

We drive on in silence so tense it hurts, buildings and trees and fields whipping past. Goddammit. My hands clench white-knuckled on the steering wheel. I practically chewed off my own leg to get away from the party, but now that we’re away, something in me regrets it. Why am I acting like this—feeling like this? Why can’t I figure out what I want?

Well . . . I steal a glance at Jenna. I know at least one thing I want. But I can’t have it. That wasn’t our deal.

I do my best to remind myself that as fun as Jenna is, all of this is only temporary. Our lives and goals are way too different. We can’t change just because we’ve had a few weeks of fun. It’s impossible.

But right now, for the life of me, I can’t remember exactly why it’s impossible.

Jenna shifts uncomfortably in her seat. “Um . . . your family is great.”

It’s obvious she’s trying to make conversation, and that I need to throw her a bone or else this suffocating atmosphere might kill us. But it’s hard when my family’s reaction to her is part of what’s bothering me.

“Yeah, they are.” My voice comes out brusquer than I intended, and I clear my throat. “I mean, my parents were totally dysfunctional, but as adults, my brother, sister, and I are really close.”

And both of them are married, in love, with kids. The goddamn poster children for wedded bliss. Which makes me wonder, for the thousandth time, just what the hell went wrong with me.

“Listen,” Jenna says, and her firm tone makes me look at her—and then right back to the road because I can’t deal with her penetrating gaze. “You’ve been acting weird ever since we got up this morning. Are you okay? Do you still want to do this?”

“Of course I do.” The answer leaps from my mouth whip-quick. I’ve never wanted anything more. Then I catch myself. I can’t be too eager, too raw with her. Trying to recover, to convince myself as much as her, I quip, “Fuck a gorgeous woman for fun? What man wouldn’t be interested in that? I don’t even have to buy you dinner first. Well, I offer to take you to dinner most times, at least.”

Her lovely features turn down subtly. She swallows, opens and closes her mouth, then mutters, “Right. Okay. Just wanted to make sure.”

Her strained expression tightens further. She’s blinking slightly faster than before. Even with my focus on the road, I can tell she’s upset, and the guilty knowledge knifes deep into my gut.

Fuck, I didn’t want to hurt her. That’s the last thing I would ever want. But I don’t even understand what I said wrong. From the moment we met, she’s been dead set on keeping things temporary, casual, no strings attached. A transaction with a strict expiration date, not a relationship. So, isn’t a fuck buddy exactly what she was after?

“I didn’t mean it like that,” I say, fumbling, hating that I’ve upset her.

“It’s fine. You didn’t say anything wrong.” Jenna’s voice is low, somehow sharp and thick at the same time. She’s looking away from me again, out the window.

I wish I could at least see her face to get a hint of her feelings. I’m blundering around in the dark here, so I start rambling. “I mean, it’s not that I don’t like buying you dinner. I actually really enjoy—”

What the fuck? Of all the words in the English language I could have said, why did my useless brain pick something so stupid? I just want to touch her, but my hands are stuck and I feel like I can’t.

She mercifully cuts me off. “I said it’s fine. We’re still on for next week, right?”

“Yeah,” I grumble. It’s clearly not fine. But what’s equally clear is that Jenna doesn’t want to discuss it anymore. If she says she’s okay, what more can I do other than drop it? And a cowardly, shameful part of me is grateful for the reprieve, because prying into her feelings would mean prying into my own too.

I check the car clock. We still have an hour and a half until we’re back in the city and I can drop her off. Fuck, this is going to be a long, awkward drive home.

Despite how everything suddenly went to hell today . . . I almost don’t even want to go back to that dark, cold penthouse of mine, when I know Jenna won’t be there with me.