Will  

 

Will practically stumbled when he saw Emma Rhodes sitting in the hall of his luxury apartment building. He pushed his thick dark hair back from his eyes, blinking twice to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. But there she was, as gorgeous as ever in Gucci and lip gloss. It was all very ghost of Christmas past, and Will shuddered at the painful longing she evoked. How many times had he dreamt of this moment in the past year? Too many.

Thankfully, Emma’s eyes were closed, giving Will a minute to collect himself. Although, as usual, he hadn’t really used the time to his advantage. He’d wanted to say, “You’re back. I’ve missed you. How are you? What are you doing here?” Any number of those things would’ve been better than what came out of his mouth. “Well, well. Looks like Christmas came early this year.”

Emma’s vivid green eyes snapped open at the sound of his voice. Will watched shock flare across her features, before it simmered into something like resentment. Will knew it was petty but he didn’t care. Emma had hurt him like no other girl had, and apparently his heart wasn’t ready to forgive her—regardless of it being the holiday season.

“Will?” she asked, staring at him like she’d seen a ghost. And sort of like she’d rather be anywhere else in the world right now. Good. Emma should feel bad. She stood him up at the winter formal last year. Will had stood outside the Plaza holding her stupid corsage for an hour waiting for her to show up. He’d looked like a total loser. He ended up going in with Liz Vanderveer and getting drunk on peppermint schnapps.

“What are you doing here?” Emma asked scrambling to her feet.

Will’s scorned heart hijacked his brain and snark poured out of his mouth before he could stop himself. “Not that I owe you an explanation, but I live here.”

Emma crossed her arms. “Since when?”

“Since when do you care?” he countered.

She blew out a breath. “I guess I don’t. I’m just here to spend Christmas with my father.”

Will stuffed his hands in his pockets, giving Emma a snide smile. “Looks like a fun reunion.”

Ever since Theodore Rhodes moved into the apartment next door to Will’s, he’d been waiting for Emma to come visit. But now that she was here, he was tongue-tied by the dormant hurt that smoldered in his heart.

“Are you sure you were expected?” he asked nodding to the nest of designer accessories and luggage on the floor. “You do have a reputation for not showing.”

Emma glared at him. “He’s just running a bit late.”

Will scoffed. “Ya know, that’s what I told myself at the formal last year.”

“Excuse me?” Emma asked arching her pale eyebrows.

“Whatever,” Will mumbled starting to walk away. He didn’t feel like dredging up old wounds in a hallway for anyone to overhear, but Emma called after him.

“Will, wait.”

He turned around and the pleading look on Emma’s face hit him like a punch to the gut. Shit. Why couldn’t he get over her?

“About last year . . .” she started. But something kept her from saying more, and suddenly Will didn’t think he could handle hearing more.

“Forget it,” he mumbled. “And don’t worry about your father. He probably just took Hodor for a walk. I’m sure they’ll be back soon.”

“Hodor?” Emma asked, confusion pinching her delicate features.

“Yeah. Colin’s dog.”

“Who’s Colin?”

“Tara’s son.”

Emma’s pretty face paled and her mouth hung open in a perfect O. That was not the face of someone who knew her father was living with his mistress and her son. Nice work, Will.

Emma took a step toward him, her familiar scent of vanilla sugar cookies invading his space. Emma’s vibrant green eyes sparkled furiously like slivers of cut emerald. “Tara? As in the Tara that broke up my parents’ marriage?” she asked blinking rapidly. “Does that sheet serpent live here?”

“Uh . . .” Will’s mind went blank. Being so close to Emma made it impossible to speak. She was stunning. Her long ash-blonde hair hung in soft waves over her shoulders as she moved toward Will. And despite her fury, all Will could presently think of doing was running his hands through it. He stared at Emma’s lips. They were perfectly glossed in pale pink. She pursed them in annoyance and he was instantly reminded of the pale pink rose buds in the corsage he’d bought her last year. His heart twisted and he took a step back. “I don’t know, Em. I’m not his secretary.”

Emma looked crestfallen. She bit her lip, crossing her arms. “That’s great. Just freaking great! I can’t believe this.” She turned away from Will and started pacing in front of her father’s door, muttering to herself. “My first time home . . . He doesn’t even have the decency to show up . . . He’s probably with her! He never let me get a dog! I guess I’m doomed to have terrible holidays from now on.”

Will watched Emma’s mini-meltdown in silent fascination until she started to gather her things. “Where are you going?”

“Home,” she muttered.

Will caught her arm as she tried to push past him. “You are home.”

“I meant Boston.”

“New York is home, Em.”

“Yeah, well it certainly doesn’t feel like it.”

“Look, why don’t you come to my place to wait for your father? My parents aren’t home and—”

Emma interrupted him with a shrill laugh. “I’m sorry. Are you seriously hitting on me right now?”

“What? No!”

“Oh really? The whole, my parents aren’t home routine? Good to see not everything has changed. You’re still the same old Will.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

The elevator dinged and they both turned to see Emma’s father step out, one arm around a gorgeous brunette, the other holding the mittened hand of a rosy-cheeked little boy. Will’s hand was still on Emma’s arm and he felt her go rigid.

“Emma!” her father greeted. “What are you doing here?”