Sydney
To say Sydney was using Scarlet was a bit harsh. It’s what he kept telling himself. Scarlet was in full agreement that their arrangement was lighthearted and free of any obligations or need for explanations. No promises or commitments had been given. Both could come and go as they pleased, and neither owed the other a thing. Sydney never even asked her about her social life outside of the time she spent with him. But the weekend Em had spent with her boyfriend, Sydney had overdone it. He needed Scarlet to help keep his mind off Em. Scarlet had just been a convenient diversion but, more importantly, a willing participant in his marathon weekend of unquenchable lovemaking. Only calling what they’d done in his apartment all weekend making love was a gross misinterpretation of the truth.
Unquenchable however, was exactly what it’d felt like. Despite the undeniable pleasure of it, no matter how many times and how hard he’d nailed Scarlet, not once had he satisfied the ultimate goal—to squelch any thoughts of what Emi and Sly might be doing that weekend.
The day he hugged Em a few days before the weekend she left, he knew it was a mistake the moment he’d pressed his body against hers. He hadn’t meant to, but it just happened, and once he had her in his arms, he’d had to go for it. Everything that had been happening up until then—everything he’d been denying to himself—was confirmed. Up until then, he’d only admitted to being attracted to her. He’d used the phrase fallen for her loosely, as in, if she were game, he’d be willing to give a relationship with her a try despite their differences. Lynn had been right. Age was just a number, and as long as they enjoyed each other’s company—felt what he finally had to admit he felt for her—nothing else mattered.
What he had to admit after that day was that he didn’t just enjoy Em’s company. He craved it. Only it was becoming more than a craving now. He needed her around, needed to see that smile, hear her laughter, and listen to her voice as she spoke so openly about everything, even about the things that troubled her most. It was what had him slipping his arms around her the day she’d been upset with him. Their friendship was undeniably as special to her as it was to him. She’d compared him to her siblings, the people in her life he knew meant the world to her. It was part of the reason why he hesitated to move forward and be honest about what he was feeling.
The past few weeks had been absolute torture when she wasn’t around. He could deal with knowing she had a fucking boyfriend because, even after her weekend with him, she was still speaking in terms of “this is only for fun” and “for now.” He didn’t dare ask her if she’d been intimate with Sabian yet. After she spent an entire weekend with the guy, Sydney could only assume she had. His only consolation was their conversations lately consisted more of her worries about her future and her lack of direction than they did about her new relationship.
What he couldn’t deal with was the amount of time her new relationship was taking from their time together. She hadn’t been with Sabian again since that weekend in Chicago with him weeks ago. But the evenings or even weekend afternoons they spent together were always cut short now because she had to get home in time for his Skype calls.
Sydney had begun to do to Scarlet what he’d done to Cheryl for months before he had to cut her off completely because he’d felt too much like a dick. If given the choice, he’d blow Scarlet off in a heartbeat to spend the time with Emi instead. Even knowing that if he chose Scarlet his time with her would without doubt have a much-needed, stress-releasing happy ending, the choice was always clear. While those happy endings with Scarlet, usually multiple times in one night, were physically satisfying, mentally and emotionally he was always left discontented.
Once again he’d given into the need to be around Emi. Listen to her laugh. Gaze at the adorable crease in her forehead as she concentrated doing what she did best. Cook.
“I just don’t know,” she said as she prepared yet another dinner for them in his kitchen. Homer circled her feet below as he always did when she was over now. The poor guy had it as bad as Sydney now. He couldn’t get enough of her either. “Not a single career option jumps out and grabs me like my siblings all had happen to them. It’s so frustrating.”
Sydney stood there, leaning against the counter, studying her as she effortlessly put everything together then plated it like in all those cooking shows she’d gotten him into. “Ever thought of culinary school?” he’d asked as she garnished the dish.
She’d glanced up at him, her eyes a bit bright. “Yeah, but it seems like such a long shot, and I’ve only ever cooked for my family and for fun.”
“And for me,” Sydney pointed out as he reached for one of the shrimp.
Emi smiled, watching as he brought it to his mouth. He chewed slowly, closing his eyes as he savored the perfectly seasoned and cooked shrimp. “That’s delicious, Em,” he said as he opened his eyes and meant it. “Honestly, I think you’re getting better and better. It’s not such a long shot. I think you’d make an excellent chef. Or”—he reached for the glass of wine he’d poured himself on the counter—“you could always open up your own restaurant. The Morenos could be your inspiration. They started from scratch literally. Selling tacos on a corner until they moved up and bought a taco truck. They saved enough to lease a place and the rest is history. I don’t think any of them have a culinary degree either.”
“Rosie’s sister Grace does,” Emi countered, continuing to sauté the shrimp in the pan. “And I’m pretty sure most of the head chefs at their restaurants do too.”
“Okay, maybe now they do, but they didn’t start that way. It started with a dream. A passion. Something their parents enjoyed doing. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you more in your element than when you’re cooking or even talking about it. You know what they say.” He paused to sip his wine. “The happiest people in the world are those who are doing what they love for a living.”
There was a twinkle in her big brown eyes, followed by that big beautiful smile of hers, the kind that could light up an entire room and swell Sydney’s heart in the process. She appeared to be ready to respond to that when her phone pinged in the front room, distracting them both momentarily.
“Hold please,” she said, licking her finger clean then wiping her hands on her apron. “That’s gotta be my sister. Sly’s in the middle of a game.”
Sydney kept his eyes on her the whole time as she walked to the front room and pulled her phone out of her purse. Inevitably, he felt the familiar twitch in his crotch as his eyes lowered down to admire her groan-inducing ass. He’d toned it down in his head for too long, mentally referring to her bubble butt as nice, very nice, and nicely accentuated by her slender waist. Months ago he’d finally just admitted it to himself. Her ass was fucking perfect. He’d never considered himself an ass man, but holy shit, hers had the power to make him rock hard just thinking about it, especially because his mind would inevitably go back to that visual of her nearly naked in her brother’s home.
On that thought, he adjusted his already thickening cock casually before things got embarrassing. He took another sip, eyes still on her, but they moved upward as she tapped her phone screen a few times then her eyes lit up again.
“He’s so bad,” she said with a big smile. “He’s not supposed to be using his phone during a game.”
Instantly, Sydney’s heart deflated. Just as quickly he felt his smile flatten too. Down below was another story. The adrenaline he was feeling, the heat of the jealousy that coursed through him, had his cock getting even harder. The urgency to claim Emi as his once and for all consumed him.
“I didn’t think they let them take phones into the dugout,” he said in an attempt to sound calm and unruffled.
“They don’t,” she said, glancing up still smiling, and then looked down at her phone again as she texted something back. “He could get fined even, but he says they all do it. As long as they sneak into the clubhouse without anyone noticing, they’re okay. This isn’t the first time he’s done this.”
Normally, he ignored his own phone when Emi was around. But given the circumstances, he needed the distraction, so he walked over to the kitchen table when he heard it buzz. Still grinding his teeth, he picked up the phone and skimmed through the many emails he had and varied messages from his secretary to his golf buddy and his mom. He stopped at the few messages his mom had sent, reading quickly through the stuff about the work on her garage being nearly done and how good it was looking. It damn well better be almost done. The insurance claim had taken long enough. She attached a photo and he studied it, frowning when he saw the color they painted the wall that had burned didn’t match the rest of the walls exactly.
Moving on to his mom’s next message, he started to skim until he got to the last few sentences and froze.
I finally got to see a photo of Emi. She’s lovely. I told Lynni the last time we chatted I’d yet to see her. So she forwarded a photo of Emi online recently with her baseball boyfriend. Even Lynni agreed Emi didn’t look very happy in it.
Even when Emi had attended that charity event with Sabian way back, it had never occurred to Sydney to look it up and see if he’d find any photos of the two. He wondered now if the photo Lynn had forwarded to his mother was from the charity event or the weekend she spent with him in Chicago.
Pressing his lips together, he inhaled deeply because he wasn’t sure if he’d be looking it up or not. Judging from his reactions lately from just hearing her mention him or even knowing she was texting him, he wasn’t sure he could handle it.
He was in the middle of reading a text from Scarlet, inviting him up later tonight for a glass of wine, when Emi’s voice got his attention. He hadn’t even realized he’d gotten caught up with his phone for so long she was already back in the kitchen serving another plate.
“Anything important?”
He glanced up at her as she looked back over her shoulder at him. “Not really, just a few emails and texts.” He placed his phone back down on the table and started toward her. “Work, my mom, Scarlet.”
Emi’s brow rose, and she immediately turned back to the food she was plating. “Oh? Is Scarlet in town?”
“She is,” he said, leaning against the counter, watching how meticulously she adorned the plate, just like on all those shows they often watched together. “But she won’t be for long. She leaves day after tomorrow to kick off a promotional tour for the new season of CSI Blues. Then she’s going home to Cape Cod to see her parents. She’ll be gone for weeks. She did suggest I meet her out there for my birthday in a few weeks. I’m considering it—”
“But you said we’d celebrate our birthdays together this year.”
Their eyes met as Sydney tried in vain to remember when he’d said that. “I did?”
“Last year,” she said so matter-of-factly he almost smiled, “when we went out for ice cream our birthday week. We checked the calendar then and saw that our birthdays were during the same week again this year. Well”—she shrugged and distracted Sydney for a moment when she licked her finger again—“yours is on a Friday, but mine is that Tuesday, still technically during the same week. You said since this year was pretty significant for both of us, if we hadn’t made any plans by the time they rolled around, it was a date.”
Sydney vaguely remembered that conversation, but as remnants of that exchange slowly came to him, he seemed to recall it was more of a playful suggestion. At the time, he hadn’t even been sure he’d still be friends with Emi a whole year later. So much could happen in a year. It surprised him that she’d not only remember it but hold him to it.
“The only plans I have is a charity walk that Saturday. The whole gang is coming to LA for it, including A.J. and Sly,” Emi explained as she lifted both plates and carried them over to the kitchen table. Sydney followed, grabbing a few napkins and silverware. “Afterward, we’ll all go out to eat and hang out until A.J. and Sly have to fly back to Cincinnati.”
“Oh well, that doesn’t sound like you have plans at all.” Sydney chuckled as he downed what was left of his wine.
“But I’m free Friday evening. We can do something when you get out of work,” she said, smiling cautiously. “I’ll be twenty-one, so we can go anywhere. A bar even.” Her eyes brightened. “My first ever.”
The thought of being a part of Emi’s first anything was a pleasant one and he smiled.
“Yeah?” she asked, looking adorably hopeful.
“I haven’t agreed to Cape Cod yet,” he said as he took the seat across from her at the table.
That tiny lift of her brow appeared again, as she placed the napkin across her lap. The same curious lift he’d seen often in the past few weeks. At times, he’d thought maybe it meant something, mostly because it only ever made an appearance when she was being sassy, usually in a playful way, but lately it had more of a kick to it, and he’d noticed it was most prominent when Scarlet was mentioned.
He peered at her for a moment curiously. “What?” she asked when she noticed him looking at her.
“Nothing.” He speared one of the shrimps on his plate with a fork. “I just thought you were gonna say something. You looked like you were.”
When she didn’t say anything immediately, Sydney glanced up at her again. She was moving the brown rice around on her plate aimlessly. “You and Scarlet getting serious?”
The brow was arched again even as she continued to move her rice around without looking up. Sydney was certain if he’d mentioned to Lynni the amount of times that cute little brow arched sharply any time the subject of Scarlet and him came up, she’d immediately assure him Emi was jealous. Maybe she was. It was a realistic possibility. God knew he’d felt like putting his fists through a wall anytime he was forced to visualize Emi with Sabian. Hell, just knowing she was leaving his place every day to go cozy up in bed and talk to the guy had him so tense he either ended up at the gym downstairs to let out some steam or in Scarlet’s bed.
“No,” he said, rubbing his temple with a frown. “I told you her Hollywood life is not one I’m interested in being a part of.”
He tried to smile as their eyes locked, but the beginning of one of his tension headaches made it hard to. He stood up to grab an aspirin. “I’ve had a tiny taste of that life and let me tell you”—he turned to look at her as he opened the aspirin bottle leaning against the counter—“it’s not for me. She knows this and she’s cool with that. She’s not looking for anything serious either.”
Emi’s attention turned to the aspirin bottle in his hands. “You’ve been getting a lot of headaches lately,” she said. “Maybe you should see a doctor.”
“Already did,” he said as he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge.
“What did he say?”
“Not much. He ran a bunch of tests, did some blood work, but I haven’t heard back yet.” He shrugged it off as he returned to the table. “I’ve always had them. They come and go, usually flare up when I’m stressing. Tension headaches.”
“But you’re not stressing right now, are you?”
He thought about that for a moment. No way would he admit that he started feeling it tonight the moment she got that text from Sabian. No doubt it’d get worse when she left to take the guy’s call. “There’s a lot going on at work, but an aspirin usually does the trick.”
After a few more spoonfuls of the delicious dinner she’d prepared, the subject was changed to his suggestion earlier that she might consider culinary school. He loved seeing how that brightened her entire face.
“Scarlet has a cousin who’s a chef back east,” he said as he sat back, his hand on his full and satisfied stomach. “She says he loves it. As a matter of fact, it was one of the places she wanted to stop in if I went out for my birthday.”
There was no denying it now. The brow lifted every single time Scarlet’s name was mentioned. Sydney hid his smirk behind his glass of wine, not wanting her to see what a fucking kick he got out of this now.
“I think maybe she’s more serious about this relationship than you think.”
Feeling his eyes narrow, he stared at her as their eyes met. “Why’s that?”
“Well, first she invites you back to her home.” Her eyes opened wide in exasperation when Sydney didn’t seem fazed by that. “Hello? Asking you to meet her family is pretty significant, don’t you think? But now you’re saying she also wanted you to go by and meet her cousin? More family.”
“She didn’t say I should come out to meet her family,” Sydney explained. “She just said I should go out there so she could help me celebrate my birthday. She felt bad that she wouldn’t be here for it.” Sydney stopped when he saw it and called her on it. “Did you just roll your eyes?”
“No.” She shook her head with a smirk.
“Yeah, you did.” He chuckled.
“Maybe. I don’t know.” She stuffed the last spoonful of rice on her plate into her mouth and smiled at him smugly.
Sydney waited patiently for her to finish chewing then swallow. He wasn’t about to let her off the hook. The entire time he kept his eyes on her, squeezing his legs together as her lips wrapped around her water bottle then sucked down half its contents. When she was done, she took her time wiping her mouth, that playful brow still slightly arched, and finally spoke again. “I just think it’s kind of silly of her to feel bad. Does she really think you have no one else to keep you company here but her? She does know your best friend lives in the same building, right?”
“She does.” Sydney stared at her, fighting the urge to smirk.
He was getting more than a kick out of seeing this side of Em—enjoying it—until her phone pinged in the front room, reminding them both that their time together was nearly up and why.
Maybe if the thought of her rushing out of his place soon just to curl up and chat all night with Sly wasn’t so galling, Sydney might have bitten his tongue. Maybe if the internal jealous turmoil he had to deal with so often now wasn’t so brutal, he would’ve thought better of his next comment, but it was brutal and he just reacted. Both ignored her phone as he continued to stare into her playful almost twinkling eyes.
“She knows all about you, Em.” That made her smile. “But the kind of celebrating she has in mind isn’t anything she imagines I’d be doing with you, so no need to take it personally.”
She made no effort to hide her reaction to that. The twinkle was instantly replaced with what could be described as a struggle, a struggle to conceal what she likely wanted to say. Instead, she stood up abruptly.
“Can’t argue with that,” she said, lifting her plate from the table.
Okay, maybe he was an asshole. He’d already established that she didn’t enjoy hearing about his time with Scarlet. He sure as hell appreciated Em sparing him any intimate details of her time with Sly.
“I gotta go,” she said, rinsing her plate before placing it in his dishwasher.
“Don’t worry about the dishes,” he said, feeling like a total dick because he’d obviously pissed her off.
Only this confused him. She had a boyfriend: Mr. Perfect, who she gladly rushed home to every day to talk to all night no doubt. Why would she care so much about what Sydney did with anyone else?
She turned to him with a forced smile. “Let me know if you do decide to stay home for your birthday. We’ll plan something.”
“I’m staying,” he said without the slightest hesitation.
This made her freeze in place and stare at him. The glare in her eyes eased up and gave way to a weak and almost embarrassed smile. “Yeah?” she asked, the pitch in her voice going up just slightly, and he nodded, smiling back. “Good. It’ll be fun.”
She grabbed her purse, and after accompanying her to the door and saying good-bye, he leaned against the door, muttering to himself. This would only get worse before it got better.