I was secretly grateful that I had agreed to meet up with Stella early that Sunday morning.

It wasn’t that I wanted to leave Emmett’s house quickly—hell, I would have stayed there all day if it had seemed like an option. It was cozy there, in a way my own house wasn’t—waking up to his beautifully decorated room, with its hanging plants and soft light, was uniquely calming and I felt at home.

But after seeing how difficult it was for Emmett—how much he was really struggling with any semblance of intimacy—I knew it was a good idea for me to leave. The last thing I wanted to do was become overbearing, or God forbid, clingy.

I could tell that Emmett liked me. But he was uncomfortable with relationships, to say the least.

After he agreed to join me for the dinner event on Wednesday night, we lounged in bed for another hour, talking about the books he was reading and our favorite movies. It turned out Emmett shared my love for movies, but his favorites were foreign films, some of which I’d never even heard of.

When eight o’clock rolled around, I told Emmett that I had to meet up with Stella.

“So early?” he said. “Well, actually I guess it isn’t that early anymore.”

I nodded, standing up and remembering that I was fully naked. I didn’t bother hiding or being bashful, though—Emmett knew what I looked like, and quite frankly, it felt good to show my body off for him.

“Yeah,” I said, “We sometimes go for a long walk together on Sunday mornings—we catch up, talk about Anna, push her along in the stroller. Then she hands Anna off to me for the week.”

Emmett nodded, still lounging in bed, raking his eyes over my body.

“Sorry,” he said, “but you’re gonna have to put some clothes on if you want any chance of me listening to what you’re saying.”

I smiled, walking slowly to the door, deliberately stretching and taking my time.

He groaned, burying his face in a pillow. “Just. Not. Fair,” he said, his voice all muffled.

I puffed out a laugh as I walked to the bathroom, gathering all my clothes and throwing them back on. It would be a twenty-minute walk back to my place to change into running clothes, and then a short walk over to the park.

When I walked back out again, Emmett was waiting in the living room.

“Thank you,” he said, “so much for everything. Last night, this morning….”

I hugged him close. “It’s no problem, Emmett. I could say the same thing to you, you know. You definitely helped me out in at least one way last night.”

I felt him laugh against me. “That certainly is the one thing I am reliable for.”

I leaned back, running my hand over his cheek, and pressed a small kiss to his lips.

I knew Emmett was hesitant, but I was going to do everything in my power to show him that he deserved to be happy.

* * *

“Hey, slowpoke,” Stella said with a wave as I jogged up to her side on the dirt path. I was meeting her in the big park that was located directly between our houses.

“I know, I know, I’m late,” I said, slowing to a walk by her side. “Hi, Anna,” I said, dipping down toward the stroller. She smiled up at me, something that still made my heart sing with so much emotion that I nearly wanted to cry.

I tried to remember those moments every time Anna wouldn’t stop wailing, wouldn’t fall asleep, wouldn’t stop fussing. One smile could erase it all.

“How are you, Stel?” I asked as we started walking at a steady pace along the path, dirt crunching under our feet.

“Same old, same old,” she said, “Though I’ve got to say, adjusting to the small-town lifestyle is crazy. People in stores actually remember me; my neighbors actually say hello… it’s amazing.”

“God, you’ve got to visit Rose’s Mini-Mart,” I told her. “It’s a few blocks down from the Promenade, and it’s the best. Run by a woman named Betty and her grandson, and as far as I can tell, they both take zero shit from anyone.”

“I love people like that,” Stella said. “I’ll go there for my next wine run.”

“You should. If you talk about us, though, make sure everyone knows that we are not married,” I said. “We’ve got to be careful about that.”

I thought about how Andy at the mini-mart would react if he mistakenly thought that I was married. Based on how protective of Emmett he’d seemed last night, I was sure that Andy wouldn’t mind punching me in the face to defend Emmett’s honor.

It was kind of totally adorable.

“So what were you up to this morning that made you so late?” Stella said. By now, other runners and people walking their dogs were all over the park, and I made a point of smiling and waving at everyone that I could.

“Up to?” I asked. “Why do you think I was up to something? Can’t I just be a few minutes late?”

“Nope,” she said. “Are you forgetting how long I’ve known you, Ryan? You’re not late. It’s just not something you do unless you have a very good reason.”

“Okay,” I said. “Fine. I was late because I had to walk home this morning, then change, then walk here.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “Oh really?”

“Yep.”

“Hm. Okay. I’m totally not curious about where you were staying last night, and definitely not going to ask you to expand upon that.”

“Sounds great,” I said, a comically chipper tone to my voice.

We walked in silence for a few beats as another family walked by, and I petted their golden retriever before they carried on.

“Gah,” Stella said afterward, almost groaning. “Just hurry up and tell me already, I need some hot Ryan gossip in my life.”

“I was wondering how long it would be until you broke,” I said. She punched me in the shoulder. “Ow,” I said. “You can’t just punch me. You do kickboxing. Your play-punches are like Howitzers.”

“I know, right?” she said, holding up her arm and flexing. “I can’t believe I’m actually strong now. If my twenty-year-old skinny, nerdy self could see this, she’d freak out.”

“Well, you were just as much of a badass back then.”

“Aww, Ryan, you flatter me. Now back to the topic. Did you get some last night?” she said.

“Get some? Don’t say ‘get some’ in front of our daughter. Better yet, don’t say it at all,” I said.

“Mr. Bretton, might I inquire as to whether you engaged in intercourse last night, dear sir?” she asked, putting on an upper-crust British accent.

I sighed, grinning. “I may or may not have engaged in some activities, yes.”

She let out a whoop, and from inside the stroller, Anna let out a string of happy “Dah da da!” sounds. “See? She’s so happy for daddy,” Stella said. “Is this the same guy from the wedding? Elliot? Everett?”

“Emmett,” I said. “Yeah, it’s him.”

“Wow,” she said, holding up her hand for a high-five. “I told you, dads are a hot commodity. I knew he’d want more from you.”

“That still remains to be seen,” I said. “I kind of had to talk him down from a couple freak-outs. God, Stella, he’s so incredibly sensitive, and in some ways it’s the most attractive thing about him. I can’t stop thinking that he’s the polar opposite of how Joseph was.”

“Oh shit,” she said, “if you’re already comparing him to your ex, you know you’ve got a crush.”

“I know, I know,” I said with a groan. “I’m sure it’s a bad idea. And it’s obviously way too fast to be able to tell anything like that. But Joseph was so… devoid of emotion. Emmett is so full of emotions they come to the surface whether or not he wants them to. I’m sure some people would find it to be too much, but to me, it just feels like honesty.”

“No, I get it,” Stella said. “It’s nicer to have someone who wears their heart on their sleeve instead of seeming like they have no emotions at all.”

“Right. But… I’m also pretty sure it’s why Emmett will end up dropping me in no time flat.”

“Why would he do that? Aren’t things going fairly well?”

I sighed, shaking my head. “He’s afraid,” I said. “I guess that’s the best explanation. I know he’s been cheated on badly in the past, but I don’t know specific details.”

“Ryan,” she said, coming to a stop underneath a big, leafless tree. The sun filtered through the branches, illuminating her face, full of concern. “I know this… sounds like it’s really exciting. But you really should be careful getting involved with someone who is commitment-phobic.”

I kicked the ground with the toe of my shoe, nodding finally. “I know. Of course I know that. But… he keeps saying how I’m different, how things are different with me than with other people he’s been with.”

“A guy will tell you anything if he likes sleeping with you,” Stella said, arching an eyebrow.

I knew she was right. I’d seen it happen to so many friends—falling for someone prematurely, expecting things that the other person couldn’t provide.

But could that sort of thing really happen to me? Emmett really did seem sincere, to me—I couldn’t imagine that I would be making up our connection in my head.

Could Emmett really just be using me for sex?

“Well,” I said as we started walking again, “I invited him to that thing I’m going to on Wednesday night, so I guess we’ll see how that goes.”

“That singles mixer?”

I snorted. “It’s not a singles mixer, it’s a professionals mixer,” I said. “I had a plus-one ticket I wasn’t going to use. Maybe I’ll treat it like… a date. Emmett and I sure as hell haven’t had a regular date yet. I don’t know if he even does things like that.”

“Something tells me he probably doesn’t,” she said. “I’ve got to meet this guy sometime.”

“You’d like him, Stel,” I said. “Anna likes him.”

She made a happy little kick with her feet at the mention of her name.

“Anna likes anyone who pays attention to her,” Stella said, smiling.

“I guess she’s too much like her father that way,” I said.

* * *

When I pulled up to Emmett’s driveway Wednesday night, I was nervous in a way I hadn’t been in a long time. I’d first noticed it when I was picking out my clothes for the event—nothing felt right, and I’d tried on four different outfits before settling on a simple pair of fitted black slacks and a blue button-up.

The babysitter had also been ten minutes late—which was fine, I’d given myself plenty of buffer time, but my ever-present internal clock went haywire until she finally arrived.

Then, right as I was saying goodbye to Anna, hugging her before handing her off to the sitter, I saw that she’d left a huge trail of drool across the front of my shirt. I changed into a nicer, lavender-colored one; it had seemed too “fancy” at first, but now I felt like it was my best option.

All that, plus rush-hour traffic, plus a general strange sense of butterflies that had plagued me all day, conspired to make me nervous as I waited outside Emmett’s door.

I had seen him at Brew For You for the past few mornings but had kept things very cordial—I got my coffee drink and then just sat down to work for a few hours. It was good to be able to see him in an environment with no social pressure, and since both of us were working hard, there were no expectations.

But I still liked being around him. I still looked up from my laptop every so often, glimpsing his smile as he talked to Patrick, the attentiveness he showed every customer, the care he took preparing each drink.

It was the same care he took when he’d made me dinner, and the same focus he had when he was coaxing me to come into his hand or his mouth.

But I tried to keep those thoughts away, at least at the coffee shop. It certainly wasn’t a good environment in which to get turned on.

After I arrived at his house Wednesday night and texted him to let him know I was there, I inexplicably began to worry about what he’d be wearing. The event wasn’t black-tie or anything, but I hoped to God he wouldn’t walk out in a hoodie and jeans.

My fears were pointless, though. When he emerged through the front door of the house, I almost couldn’t believe how good he looked. He trotted over and got in the passenger side of the car, a cool rush of air coming in before he closed the door. He smiled softly at me.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi,” I responded. “You look… wow.” He was in a light seafoam-colored shirt, a casual blazer, and nice slacks. We regarded each other for a beat of silence, the car engine gently rumbling below us, before I leaned over toward him and kissed him.

His hands rose up to my shoulders instantly, drawing me closer as he leaned in. He smelled so fresh—the faintest hint of coffee, but mostly just shower-clean and a hundred percent him. I was only going to give him a small kiss, but the moment my lips touched his we both deepened the kiss, and every time I thought we might pull away we only opened further to one another.

It was as if we’d both been waiting to do that ever since Sunday.

We broke for a breath, and he slid his hand down my shirt. “I like this,” he said, “You look incredible in that lavender color.”

“You look damn good yourself,” I said.

He leaned back, letting out a long sigh. “Well, I’m glad I look okay because God, I am so fucking nervous you wouldn’t believe.”

I puffed out a laugh. “I actually am, too,” I said.

“Really? Isn’t this your wheelhouse, though? Business schmoozing?”

“Business schmoozing?” I said. “Is that a technical term?” But he was right—I’d gone to countless events just like this, including ones much bigger and fancier, ones that I’d had to make speeches at, for God’s sake. But tonight felt different.

I knew it was because I was going with Emmett.

“I’m sure it’ll be okay,” I said, glancing at the clock on the dashboard. “We need to leave now, though, or we’ll miss the whole thing.”

“Oh, what a tragedy that would be…” Emmett said, sarcasm in his voice.

I gave him a playful thwack on the shoulder.

The drive over was around forty-five minutes, and I rescinded control of the stereo to Emmett. He connected his phone to the speakers—something I had never even bothered to do in my own car—and played a bunch of music I had never heard of. Most of it was stuff I would never choose to listen to, but a few times, I found myself actually liking some of it.

“Who is this?” I asked, during a particularly good acoustic guitar song.

“They’re called The Weakerthans,” he said, smiling. “You like it?”

“It’s not my usual, but… I actually do really like this.”

“Yes,” he said, pumping his fist. “I have purposely been playing the calmest stuff I have.”

“Wow,” I said, “If this has been your calmest playlist, I dread to think what the rowdiest stuff is.”

“Oh, I’ll save that for when you’re older,” he said, waggling his eyebrows at me.

I knew it was a joke, but it killed me how much I actually enjoyed him saying that. I would like that. I would like it if Emmett knew me when I was older.

A while later, we pulled up to the event, which was hosted in a big hotel conference area. As we parked, people were already streaming out of their cars toward the place.

We walked in alongside each other, checked in, got little “hello” stickers where we scrawled our name in black marker before putting them on our shirts. I looked over at Emmett’s and saw that he had written “Phineas Crumplebottom” on his tag.

I lifted an eyebrow at him. “Phineas?”

He smirked. “I’ll have you know, I am Mister Crumplebottom to you, sir.”

I shook my head, trying to force down my smile. We continued into the main room where people were milling about, most of them with wine or champagne in their hands. It was a beautiful space—high ceilings, ample glass windows, and plenty of tables scattered throughout with the free food, drinks, and hors d’oeuvres.

“This is… pretty intense,” Emmett said, his eyes scanning the room. I could tell that he was already feeling slightly uncomfortable, and I realized then why I’d been so nervous before the event: I was nervous because he was coming, because I’d invited him to something that I had no idea if he’d enjoy.

In other words, I wanted badly to ensure that he would have fun, because if not, I’d feel personally responsible.

I turned toward one of the closest drink tables, picking up two tall glasses of champagne. “Here you go,” I said as I handed one to him with a flourish. “Remember, free food and drinks, right?”

He took the glass, giving me a sympathetic look. “Always looking out for me, Ryan,” he said, taking a big sip. We wandered a little further into the room, seeing that certain businesses had set up little booths with cards and promotional materials, advertising their wares. I saw one booth that was a graphic design firm and turned to Emmett to point it out to him.

But when I saw his face, he looked like he was about to throw up.

“Jesus, are you okay?” I said.

He gave me an anxious glance. “I’m fine,” he said.

“Don’t bullshit me,” I said, keeping my voice calm. “I don’t know if you’ve forgotten, but I know you better than that by now.”

He bit his lip, looking back over to the other side of the room, and nodding once. “The guy over there in that garish red shirt went to high school with me,” he said. “He, uh… was one of the main people who constantly reminded me how “gay” everything I did was. I don’t think he really grasped the nuance of bisexuality.”

I looked over and saw the tall, thin guy Emmett was talking about, standing at the table of a local car dealership.

“Is he still that bad? I mean, people do grow up, sometimes,” I said.

Emmett shook his head. “Nope. He was arrested last year for punching some guy in a bar fight. The guy apparently just complimented him on his shoes, and he thought he was being flirted with.”

“Yuck,” I said.

“Yeah, he’s an asshole.”

“So let’s… not head over in that direction,” I said, taking Emmett’s arm in mine and walking swiftly the other way, over toward the graphic design table.

Christ, I was already feeling guilt creep through me. Emmett clearly didn’t want to be here, and I’d forced him just because I wanted to do anything with him. Luckily, Emmett was interested in the graphic design table—he’d heard of them on the internet, a company called Cinder & Stars—and quickly got to talking with the two women behind the table. I hung around in the general area, sampling some mushroom and herb canapes, and then taking far too many samples from a stand offering bite-sized pizza.

When I wrapped back around to the Cinder & Stars table, Emmett was still talking with them; his face lit up. I came over to his side and gave him a small plate with three of the pizza bites on it.

“Thank you so much,” he said, taking them and immediately devouring one. “I’ve been too busy talking to even eat free food, who am I?”

One of the women behind the table laughed, holding out her hand to me.

“Ryan,” I said, introducing myself.

“I’m Davina,” she said. “Are you Phineas’ husband?”

Emmett coughed on his second pizza bite, and I felt my cheeks heating.

“Ah,” I said, “No, he’s just my friend.”

“Well, he sure knows a lot about design. I was just going to ask—and I hope you don’t mind—we do have an open call for submissions right now. We’re looking to put together a spring team for a massive client project we picked up.”

Emmett looked down, stammering a little.

“He’d love to submit,” I said, “He has a really incredible portfolio. Looks similar to a lot of the stuff you have here, actually.”

“It’s really not that good,” Emmett said, cutting his eyes at me.

“He’s modest,” I said.

“Well, I can certainly give you our card. The call for submissions is on our website, and it’s open until the end of the year. Make sure you mention in the comments that I referred you,” Davina said, giving Emmett a wink. “Though I’m sure I wouldn’t forget a name like Phineas.”

She held out her card, and Emmett took it, staring at it like it was in a foreign language.

“Ah,” he said, “I’ve got to tell you, my name is actually Emmett Crawford. I… sort of wrote this name tag as a joke.”

Emmett looked concerned for a moment like he assumed he had drastically fucked up somehow, but Davina just laughed. “Gotcha. Phineas I could have believed, but Crumplebottom? Not so much.”

“That same imagination is why his designs are so good, I’m sure,” I said as Emmett slid the business card into his wallet.

“Do you have a card for me?” Davina asked.

Emmett shook his head. “No. I, uh, I’m just a barista, actually.”

“Oh,” she said, nodding. “Well, a portfolio is a portfolio. You should still send it over.”

The three of us talked for a few more minutes, mostly about the other booths surrounding the Cinder & Stars one before Emmett and I headed over to grab some more alcohol and food samples.

“You know, you really didn’t have to do that,” Emmett said as we stood around a tall table by ourselves, people sauntering around us.

“Do what?”

He glanced at me, then back down at his food. “Like, trying to convince her that my work is good, all that shit. Cinder & Stars are a huge place. They don’t need a scrub like me.”

I swallowed my sip of champagne and then put the glass down on the table, probably a little too hard.

“Emmett, I don’t understand why you do this,” I said. “Sell yourself short. It doesn’t make any sense.”

He hitched one shoulder in a shrug. “It makes sense if you’re me.”

I was honestly frustrated with him—he had so much potential that he wasn’t living up to, and for no reason other than his own internal self-critic that couldn’t shut up. I knew he could be successful in graphic design. He was passionate, talented, and a hard worker—I had seen him enough at Brew For You to know that even with a cup of coffee, he took so much care and had relentless attention to detail.

I just didn’t know how to get him to see that.

We walked around the event for another half hour, checking out other booths and picking up little cups of chocolate mousse and tiramisu. Every time we introduced ourselves to people, Emmett would describe himself as “just” a barista, downplaying his job.

I understood that it must have been tough for him in a room full of people that were software developers, lawyers, young professors, even a couple doctors. But it seemed to be eroding away at Emmett more than I could have expected. When the asshole that had bullied him in high school walked right by us, I saw Emmett’s face fall and noticed that he was nervously crumpling a napkin in his hand like it was a stress ball.

“Hey,” I said, slipping my arm around the small of his back. “Do you want to get out of here?” I asked.

His eyes flitted up toward mine. “Really?” he asked. “I thought you… y’know, needed to schmooze, and stuff.”

I waved a hand through the air. “I’ve done it. I’ve schmoozed. And to be honest, this whole event seems much more about advertising companies than meeting new people.”

Emmett smiled weakly. “Yeah, that is totally true.”

“But I’m getting the distinct impression that you aren’t comfortable here, and I don’t want to prolong that.”

He looked to the side. “I do love the food, and I love the alcohol, but… you’re right, it just isn’t my scene.”

I nodded once. “Done,” I said. “Let’s get out of here.” I checked the time on my phone. “I’ve still got the babysitter for two hours, though. Would you want to… go do something?”

He paused, his eyes meeting mine, a slight twinkle in them. “Like… a sex something?” He waggled his eyebrows.

And to be honest, at that moment, nothing sounded better—I hadn’t been able to keep my eyes off him all night, and at one point he’d gotten honey on his lip and I’d badly wanted to lick it off.

But I purposely wanted to not have sex with him tonight. Would he even enjoy being around me if not for the promise of sex?

“What about…” I said, thinking of the few places I knew about in Rose Falls. “…Hey, what about that ice rink? The one that’s a few blocks down from the Promenade?”

“That ice rink?” Emmett said. “God, I haven’t gone there since I was ten years old. My parents used to take us before we all hit puberty and shunned the idea of family fun.”

“Well, it sure looked fun to me the other day, when I drove by,” I said. I grabbed Emmett’s hand, swinging it a little until he cracked a smile.

“Okay,” he said. “Let’s go to the ice rink.”

“Yes,” I said. “You know we’re on a date, right?” I teased him. “Emmett Crawford—excuse me—Phineas Crumplebottom—is on a real, bona fide date.”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up,” Emmett said, but the smile didn’t leave his face. His cheeks did turn pink though, which just about killed me with how adorable it was. “You know I don’t go on dates.”

“That was before you met me, buddy,” I said. “You don’t even want to know how many dates we are going to go on.”

He gave me a sad smile, but I didn’t press any further on the topic.

I knew it was something Emmett wasn’t used to. But I had to try my best. The alternative was just hooking up with him every once in a while and wishing for more, or losing him forever. I couldn’t do either one of those.

* * *

“Oh my God, look at all the families out there,” Emmett said as we pulled up to the ice rink. It was lit with big floodlights, but the pathway leading up to it was decked out in garland and twinkling lights. “I’m gonna fall on my ass and accidentally take some five-year-old down with me.”

I grabbed my jacket from the back of the car. “Don’t worry, I’ll catch you,” I said.

“And if we both fall?”

“What’s the fun in ice skating if you never fall?” I said.

Emmett laughed. “Say that to me once I’m in the hospital with a broken tailbone.”

“C’mon. I knew we had to do something good tonight. You have no idea how incredible it is to have a babysitter at night. It’s like a whole new world opens up.”

Emmett grinned. “You have three whole nights a week when Stella has the baby,” he said. “Think of all the single parents out there!”

“I know, I know, I’m lucky,” I said. “Really lucky. But you know I miss her like crazy on those nights.”

He met my eyes in the dim light of the car. “Makes sense. Anna is a sweetheart.”

I sighed. “How dare you, Emmett. Trying to make me all emotional and distract me from the matter at hand: we are going skating.” I got out of the car, throwing on my jacket, and we walked up toward the rink. We rented skates and then lined up to get on the ice. A young vendor was walking around selling little plastic headbands shaped like reindeer ears, and she approached us in the line.

“Oh God, I am going to have to buy one of those, aren’t I?” Emmett asked when the vendor was a few paces away.

“I think they’re probably for kids,” I said.

“Psh,” he said, “maybe, maybe not. But I think we can all agree that they would look fantastic on me. Didn’t I show you my collection of kitschy headbands?”

I shook my head.

“I’ll show you. Cat ears, bunny ears, stars, shamrocks… I’ve got all the good stuff.”

He pulled out his wallet in anticipation for the headband vendor, true excitement in his eyes. And at that moment, I was overcome—Emmett was so earnest, so sweet, and despite the fact that I normally didn’t do PDA I was compelled to just lean down and kiss him. I had to kiss him.

He let out a little surprised noise against my lips, but then kissed me back—nothing salacious, just exchanging warmth, sweet and tender in the chill of the air.

He reached inside my coat, giving me a little squeeze at my waist, and I swore I could feel my heart doing somersaults in my chest.

A minute later Emmett had purchased the reindeer ears, and I had to concede defeat.

“Okay, you win, you win,” I said, pulling out my phone and snapping a photo of him. “You do look great.”

“Thank you, he said, posing. “Feel free to use that photo to identify me in any lineup.”

“You planning on committing a crime?”

“Only the crime of being awesome.”

When we finally got out onto the rink, the cold ice slippery beneath my skates, I had a brief moment of panic.

“Oh no,” I said, gripping the side of the rink for support. “I kind of forgot how incredibly bad at this I am.” I looked at Emmett, expecting to see him struggling as much as I was—but he was gliding happily, going ahead of me, and then looking back and waiting for me to catch up. He had a huge smile on his face.

“I forgot how awesome it is,” he said.

I gave him a pained look.

“Come on,” he said, holding out his hand to me.

I shook my head. “No. I can’t. The railing is my new best friend.”

He cocked his head, giving me a look that said, “Really?” He held his hand closer to me, extending it.

“Fine,” I said, slowly letting go of the railing and taking his hand. Luckily he went slow at first, and we skated off, passing a few families with small children along the wall. We made one big lap around the whole rink, and by the end, I was on much surer footing.

He glanced over at me, a devilish look in his eyes. “Do you mind if I go faster?” he asked.

I let go of his hand. “Be my guest, but I’m gonna stay slow for now.”

He nodded before taking off, bounding past everyone else, quick as lightning. A couple times I was genuinely worried that he might hit someone, but he expertly avoided them every time, gliding past.

We stayed for another half hour or so, Emmett much more adept than me. When we stepped off the rink, we were nice and flushed, and the cold didn’t feel so biting anymore. After we returned the rented skates, I took his hand in mine, and we meandered around the park surrounding the rink.

“I’m so glad we came here,” he said. “I needed this after that meet-up.”

“Yeah, it kinda sucked, didn’t it?” I said. “It definitely wasn’t what I was expecting, either.”

“It was really cool to talk to Davina from Cinder & Stars, though, I will admit that. I’ve followed them forever.”

“I was so glad you met her, too,” I said. I gave him a little nudge with the side of my body. “And hey—now you’ve got a competition to enter. I think you’ll really have a good shot at being selected if they see your portfolio.”

Emmett glanced up at me, a dubious look on his face, lifting one eyebrow. “Oh—I’m definitely not entering that contest,” he said as if it was the most obvious thing.

“What?” I said.

We slowed to a stop under a big tree.

“The contest?” Emmett said, shaking his head. “There’s no way I could compete with all the people entering that thing. Trust me, Ryan, it isn’t worth it.”

I stared at him for a moment. “But… she seemed genuinely interested in your stuff,” I protested. “You told her you’d submit.”

“I mean, yeah, of course, I was going to tell her that,” he said. “But I used to apply to contests like these all the time, and I promise you, I know I’m out of my depth.”

I furrowed my brow. “What is the harm in trying? It’s free to enter, why not try if you never know what might happen?”

He shook his head, a stern look falling over his face. “Right,” he said bitterly. “Of course you would think that.”

I paused, thinking that he might be joking with me, but he was totally serious. “What is that supposed to mean?” I asked. “Of course I would think it?”

He looked up at me, unsmiling. “I think you know what it means.”

For a moment I wondered where things had gone wrong—one moment we’d been happy and frolicking on the ice rink, walking hand in hand—but now Emmett dropped his hand away from mine, stuffing his fists into the pockets of his blazer. He looked away, back out over the hills that led down from the park, past me.

Finally, he broke the silence that had stretched out between us. “Things have always been easy for you, Ryan—you told me yourself.”

I cocked my head. “What exactly has been easy for me?”

“You liked school, and you did well in it,” he said. “And you look like everyone’s favorite boy-next-door. You’ve got a ton of money. I’m willing to bet that you’ve won any contest you entered in your life, right?”

“Hey,” I said quickly. “I’ve worked extremely hard for what I have, Emmett—you can’t seriously be trying to say I had it easy.”

“Have you won everything you’ve ever competed at? Just answer me,” he said, his voice clipped.

I thought back, trying to find evidence to prove him wrong. I hadn’t been involved in that many competitions. But I had to admit to myself that it was true—in decathlons and spelling bees, more often than not I would win. In college, I participated in a few software coding contests, and I did win two out of three of them.

“Everyone wins some, and loses some,” I said, simplifying things.

He shook his head quickly. “Not when you’re me,” he said, finality in his voice. He turned to me, his eyes earnest. “Look, I know you mean well. And I know that you… care about me, even though we haven’t even known each other that long. But you haven’t lived my life. You don’t know how it feels to get rejected from three colleges, dozens of companies, and two partners all in the span of six months. Well, I guess rejected isn’t the right word for the partners—they just plain cheated on me.”

“Jesus,” I said, my voice low. “Did that really happen to you? All in the same six months?”

He bit his bottom lip, looking to the side and nodding. “That was me, a few years ago. For a long time, I did what you’re saying—I held out hope, I kept trying, despite everything. But when failure after failure keeps piling up… at some point, I just had to say fuck it. I like my life. Sure, I could dream bigger, but… those will always just be dreams, for me.”

Something like anger bubbled up inside me. Internally, all I could think was one thing, over and over again: No. No, no, no.

I was sympathetic with Emmett. I really was. There was a time to mourn, a time to regroup, a time to lick wounds. But I also knew that after a while, you just needed to get back into the playing field and fight for what you wanted.

Emmett seemed to have totally lost that spark.

I grabbed hold of his shoulders, looking straight at him. He looked back at me with wide eyes, a little startled that I was being so emphatic.

“You can do what you set your mind to, Emmett,” I said. I saw the doubt beginning to cloud his eyes. “I know you don’t want to hear it, and I know you might not believe it. Sure, you might not get everything you want—but you’ve got to keep trying, otherwise… what? You’ve just given up on life?”

“I haven’t given up,” he said softly. “I’m just trying to be realistic.”

“Realistic?!” I said, probably slightly too loudly. I took a deep breath, lowering my voice. “Realistic is that you have incredible talent that is being wasted, because you’re afraid. I call it as I see it, Emmett. You should apply for more graphic design positions if it’s what you really want.”

He looked down, gently removing my hands from his shoulders.

“Well, I can tell you one thing that really makes me not want to apply to them,” he said.

“What?”

He met my eyes, his face harsh. “Other people telling me what I should and shouldn’t do in my life.” He reached up, ripping off the silly headband from his head, and tossing it into a wimpy pile of snow nearby.

I threw my hands up in the air. “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I said. “You’re acting like a child.”

He nodded. “There we go. Glad it only took this long for you to figure that out.”

“Figure what out?”

“That I’m fucking immature,” he said, raising his eyebrows at me. “Ever since I met you, I sure as hell have been focusing more on my failures than ever before.”

I groaned. “Don’t think about me,” I said. “It doesn’t matter that I’ve had a different career path than you, Emmett, we’re different people.”

He shook his head. “No. Not because of the career path.” He wrung his hands through his hair. “Ryan, I… think I’ve known this for years, but only really had it sink in recently. Do you know why I was so against wedding hookups, why I vowed never to have one again?”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve had so many goddamn hookups that I was able to sort them out into categories. Ryan, I don’t think you understand the extent of what I’ve been like, essentially since I was eighteen years old.”

I waved a hand through the air, frustrated as ever. “I get it. You had a lot of sex. It’s not as big of a deal as you seem to think it is.”

“No,” he said firmly. “I really don’t think you do get it. And since meeting you, I think I only just fully figured out why I was so fucked up, so… addicted to it,” he said. “I was having so much sex as a compensation factor for how empty the rest of my life was. But guess what? I haven’t wanted anyone else since I met you.”

I rolled my eyes. “Hardly that long of a time.” But inside, secretly, my heart leapt—even in the heat of our argument, it made me feel insanely good, and special, to hear that Emmett hadn’t wanted anyone else since meeting me.

“It is a long time, for me,” he said, his eyes wild. “For me, it’s like nothing else I’ve ever felt, actually. At least nothing I’ve felt in years—Ryan, I’ve wanted you in a way that I thought was impossible for me.”

His words hit me like a brick. He felt that strongly about this? But I could see that he was being totally sincere.

“Okay,” I said softly, letting my guard down again. “How is that… how is that anything but a good thing?” I asked.

He swallowed, and for God’s sake, a single tear actually ran down his face. I reached up to brush it away, and it was so warm against my cold thumb.

“Because I’m not using sex as a distraction anymore, and it makes me see how shitty the rest of my life is,” he said, weak. “Especially in comparison to you. You’re… you’re this incredible father, so unceasingly responsible. You’ve really found success, in a job you love. You’re nice—fucking genuinely nice—in a way that most people can’t even fake. And the strangest part of it all is that you seem interested in me, too. And I can’t explain that. It’s terrifying.”

I slipped my hands around him, burying them in his hair. “It doesn’t have to be terrifying,” I said.

He shook his head, sniffling. “You don’t know it yet, Ryan, but I know I’m not enough for you. The nightmare was just the cherry on top of everything.”

“Nightmare?”

“Oh,” he said, darting a glance at me. “I forgot I didn’t tell you. Fuck.”

“Tell me,” I said. “Emmett, please, be honest with me.”

He took a shuddering breath. “Remember when I woke up early on Sunday, all freaked out? I dreamed that we’d gone to an amusement park with Anna. And you’d trusted me to keep watch over her for a couple minutes, and somehow, within that time, I lost her. She was gone, Ryan—I couldn’t—” he shuddered.

I had been fine up until then—I’d tried to keep my feelings neutral, and though I’d let anger get the best of me a couple times, I had been mostly successful.

But at that moment, when Emmett told me about the dream, I had to hold myself back from crying.

He cared. He cared about me and Anna enough to be dreaming about us. He wasn’t just using me for a hookup.

“It’s just a dream,” I said. “Do you have any idea how many nervous dreams I’ve had about Anna? God, it’s a good instinct—you want to be protective of a tiny creature like that.”

“I’ve already acted like a complete idiot so many times when we’ve hung out,” he said. “I’m making everything worse for you, already, and we aren’t even in a relationship.”

“Anxiety doesn’t make you an idiot,” I said. “You’re just a sensitive person.” I gently slid my hands down from his hair, pocketing them, trying to give him some space.

He met my eyes, and I saw a cold resignation there that I’d never seen with him before. It was chilling. I knew what was coming, but it didn’t make it any easier.

“I don’t know if I can do this, Ryan,” he said, with a slight shake of his head. “I need some sort of break, at least. I’m so fucking overwhelmed, I can’t handle it.”

There was a finality to his statement that I knew I couldn’t argue with.

“Relationships are hard work. Everyone says it, and I know it’s true. But I’m just not the kind of person worth fighting for, Ryan.”

It felt like an icy knife to the heart.

“You are, Emmett—” I started to say, but he held up his hand, urging me to stop.

“Please don’t,” he said. “I just… I can’t. I really, really can’t.”

Emmett was his own person, and throughout this whole conversation, this whole night, I’d somehow known he’d been waiting to tell me this. Hell, maybe he’d been waiting to tell me this the entire time he’d known me.

There was nothing I could do other than listen to him, and respect him. I couldn’t force him into a relationship with me, and I wouldn’t want to force him into anything, anyway.

“I understand,” I said. “I do. We can take a break, Emmett.”

He looked down at the ground, and the look on his face utterly crushed me. I got the same urge that I’d felt before—the second day I’d ever seen him, when I’d apologized to him outside the coffee shop. It was the urge to protect him. To take him under my wing, to somehow make him see that everything would be alright, no matter how much he had been through.

But he was telling me that it wasn’t what he wanted from me.

“Let me…” I said, “…let me at least give you a ride home.”

He shook his head. “I’m gonna walk,” he said. “I need to clear my head, anyway.”

“No problem at all. Take your time. It… couldn’t hurt to get some distance,” I said, trying so hard to keep my voice even and calm. But I wanted to shake him, to scream at him, and also paradoxically, wanted to hold him close and hug him tight.

He nodded once, barely making eye contact as he waved goodbye and walked off down the path, hurrying in the direction of his house. I watched him recede away into the dim light, illuminated only by the occasional lamppost until he turned a corner and disappeared for good. The whole time I fought back the urge to run after him.

I felt like I had been on a rollercoaster. From such sweet highs to this low plunge.

Emmett had said he might just want a break from seeing me. But something told me that the honest truth was we might never connect again. A logical part of my brain said that it probably was for the better—that maybe he was right, and Stella was right, and our lifestyles were just too different for anything to work between us.

But I just couldn’t accept that as being true. I felt better around him than I even had felt with Joseph for the second half of our relationship—Emmett reminded me of how fun life could be, reminded me that I wasn’t just a parent, I was also a whole person. Our first meeting had just been purely sexual, but after that, I’d seen so many different sides to him, in such a short time.

He was complex, and intelligent, and raw, and talented, and magnetic. And it pained me to think that his own self-doubt could be the thing that would drag our chances together into the mud.

There was so much more I wanted to say to him, but I knew it wasn’t the time.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a glint of plastic in the light of the lamppost. I bent and picked up the reindeer headband, brushing off the flakes of snow.

I carried it as I walked back to my car, thinking only of Emmett, and how silly and ridiculous and adorable he’d been with the reindeer ears.

I wanted nothing more than to be able to make him that happy all the time. But Emmett had made it clear tonight that I didn’t make him happy—in fact, I only had been making his life worse.

I walked back to my car slowly, drove home in silence, and arrived home to find Anna sleeping peacefully. After I paid the babysitter, I stood over Anna’s crib for a while, just watching her close. I was blindsided by emotions—it didn’t make sense, that I’d be so affected after only knowing Emmett for such a short time, but I kept feeling that I was minutes away from shedding tears.

I swallowed hard, breathing in slow and deep, trying to push away any thoughts of him.

“Someday, it won’t be just us, Anna-banana,” I said, so softly that it was barely audible, careful not to wake her up. “Til then, it’s just you and me.”