The Trouble with Love
Page 66
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
Maybe tonight felt different because it was almost the holidays.
But in the back of her mind, Emma knew she was lying to herself. Something was different tonight, sure, but it wasn’t the proximity to Thanksgiving.
Her eyes sought and found Cassidy’s.
It was him. No, them.
They’d been at the same dinner party before, but never like this. Never as a couple.
Were they a couple?
It didn’t seem like it. It was so different from how things had been with her previous boyfriends. Heck, for that matter, it was different from how it had been with Cassidy all those years ago.
It was startlingly comfortable. There was no trying the other person on for size, no trying to adjust to their quirks and habits. No trying not to get annoyed at the other person’s chewing, no painful getting-to-know-you chats in which you scrambled to remember whether Jackson referred to his second-grade best friend or his childhood dog.
They simply were. They simply fit.
He lifted an eyebrow, as though to ask if she was okay, and she smiled and gave a little shake of her head.
I don’t want to talk about it.
Because talking about it might jinx it.
And therein lay the real problem…the downside of everything feeling so perfect.
It couldn’t last. It never lasted.
“Yo, Emma. Grab that bottle and get over here,” Riley said.
She complied, topping off everyone’s glasses as she settled onto her new gray love seat next to Julie.
Julie poked her arm the second she sat down. “Okay, I swear this is the last time I’ll bug you about this, but I need to ask just one more time to clear my conscience. Are you sure you don’t want to come to Connecticut with us on Thursday? Mitchell’s mom makes a mean turkey.”
“Or Brooklyn with us,” Riley added.
“Or Wisconsin with us, although our flight leaves tomorrow, so you’d better make that decision, like, yesterday,” Grace chimed in.
Emma glanced down at her wine, feeling a bittersweet pang as she realized that every one of them had just used the word us. Come with us to Connecticut. Come with us to Brooklyn. With us to Wisconsin.
Emma wasn’t part of an us.
Because no matter how good things were between her and Cassidy in bed, no matter how compatible they were outside of it, there were some things they couldn’t overcome. It was like their sexual chemistry had set off some sort of adrenaline kick that prevented them from feeling the pain.
And once that adrenaline wore off…
Emma knew what that heartbreak felt like.
“Ems?” Julie asked, touching her arm, softer this time. “You okay?”
“Yeah. I’m good. And thank you for the invitations, truly. But I’m actually headed to North Carolina for the holiday.”
Her friends exchanged puzzled looks. “Since when? I could have sworn we just talked last week about our plans—”
“Since Saturday. My dad’s been bugging me about it for weeks and I’ve been saying no, but…he wore me down.”
Actually, that wasn’t entirely true. Her father had gone ahead and bought her a plane ticket without her consent. Something Emma could have ignored if not for…Daisy.
Her twin still responded to Emma’s texts, but she never initiated them anymore. And whenever Emma called, it went straight to voice mail. Emma wanted to see her sister in person to dig beneath the surface.
Even if it meant sitting around the table and playing nice with her father while he prattled on about Sinclair Media and the fact that he had no successor for the company since neither daughter was interested, and Daisy had gone and gotten herself a “damn divorce,” and Emma…well, Emma up and left the table whenever her father dared to mention Cassidy.
So. The holiday should be great.
“Well, that’ll be fun!” Julie said brightly.
Emma gave her a look. “It won’t be. But can we just…not talk about it? Holidays are supposed to be stressful, right?”
“But—”
“Subject change,” Emma pleaded. “Please.”
“Oooh, I have one!” Grace said, sitting up straighter and directing her attention to the guys at the table. “Hey, Cassidy, is it true that you’re hiring a sports editor?”
Julie and Emma twisted in their seats to face the men.
Cassidy squinted at Grace over his whiskey tumbler. “Where’d you hear that?”
Grace pursed her lips and glanced at Jake. Cassidy gave his employee an annoyed look.
“Okay, look, it’s like this,” Jake said, setting his glass on the table. “I may have been in your office earlier today, and I may have seen something on your desk that I shouldn’t have. And I may have mentioned it to my pretty wife.”
“I don’t even know where to start,” Cassidy said.
“Oh, I do!” Sam said. “I got this. Mr. Malone, son, why were you in Mr. Cassidy’s office?”
Jake stared at him. “Are you trying to do a principal impersonation?”
Sam gave him a patient look and Jake squirmed. “You’re good at it. Okay, um, I was in Cassidy’s office because I was looking for something.”
“Looking for…” Sam prodded.
“Condoms,” Jake said matter-of-factly.
Julie snorted, but Sam merely gave a sage nod. “You were seeking contraceptives.”
“Yes, to, um, fornicate with my wife.”
“Actually,” Emma said, peeking over the top of the couch as she watched the interaction, “one can’t fornicate with one’s wife. Fornication by definition is sexual intercourse with someone you’re not married to.”
But in the back of her mind, Emma knew she was lying to herself. Something was different tonight, sure, but it wasn’t the proximity to Thanksgiving.
Her eyes sought and found Cassidy’s.
It was him. No, them.
They’d been at the same dinner party before, but never like this. Never as a couple.
Were they a couple?
It didn’t seem like it. It was so different from how things had been with her previous boyfriends. Heck, for that matter, it was different from how it had been with Cassidy all those years ago.
It was startlingly comfortable. There was no trying the other person on for size, no trying to adjust to their quirks and habits. No trying not to get annoyed at the other person’s chewing, no painful getting-to-know-you chats in which you scrambled to remember whether Jackson referred to his second-grade best friend or his childhood dog.
They simply were. They simply fit.
He lifted an eyebrow, as though to ask if she was okay, and she smiled and gave a little shake of her head.
I don’t want to talk about it.
Because talking about it might jinx it.
And therein lay the real problem…the downside of everything feeling so perfect.
It couldn’t last. It never lasted.
“Yo, Emma. Grab that bottle and get over here,” Riley said.
She complied, topping off everyone’s glasses as she settled onto her new gray love seat next to Julie.
Julie poked her arm the second she sat down. “Okay, I swear this is the last time I’ll bug you about this, but I need to ask just one more time to clear my conscience. Are you sure you don’t want to come to Connecticut with us on Thursday? Mitchell’s mom makes a mean turkey.”
“Or Brooklyn with us,” Riley added.
“Or Wisconsin with us, although our flight leaves tomorrow, so you’d better make that decision, like, yesterday,” Grace chimed in.
Emma glanced down at her wine, feeling a bittersweet pang as she realized that every one of them had just used the word us. Come with us to Connecticut. Come with us to Brooklyn. With us to Wisconsin.
Emma wasn’t part of an us.
Because no matter how good things were between her and Cassidy in bed, no matter how compatible they were outside of it, there were some things they couldn’t overcome. It was like their sexual chemistry had set off some sort of adrenaline kick that prevented them from feeling the pain.
And once that adrenaline wore off…
Emma knew what that heartbreak felt like.
“Ems?” Julie asked, touching her arm, softer this time. “You okay?”
“Yeah. I’m good. And thank you for the invitations, truly. But I’m actually headed to North Carolina for the holiday.”
Her friends exchanged puzzled looks. “Since when? I could have sworn we just talked last week about our plans—”
“Since Saturday. My dad’s been bugging me about it for weeks and I’ve been saying no, but…he wore me down.”
Actually, that wasn’t entirely true. Her father had gone ahead and bought her a plane ticket without her consent. Something Emma could have ignored if not for…Daisy.
Her twin still responded to Emma’s texts, but she never initiated them anymore. And whenever Emma called, it went straight to voice mail. Emma wanted to see her sister in person to dig beneath the surface.
Even if it meant sitting around the table and playing nice with her father while he prattled on about Sinclair Media and the fact that he had no successor for the company since neither daughter was interested, and Daisy had gone and gotten herself a “damn divorce,” and Emma…well, Emma up and left the table whenever her father dared to mention Cassidy.
So. The holiday should be great.
“Well, that’ll be fun!” Julie said brightly.
Emma gave her a look. “It won’t be. But can we just…not talk about it? Holidays are supposed to be stressful, right?”
“But—”
“Subject change,” Emma pleaded. “Please.”
“Oooh, I have one!” Grace said, sitting up straighter and directing her attention to the guys at the table. “Hey, Cassidy, is it true that you’re hiring a sports editor?”
Julie and Emma twisted in their seats to face the men.
Cassidy squinted at Grace over his whiskey tumbler. “Where’d you hear that?”
Grace pursed her lips and glanced at Jake. Cassidy gave his employee an annoyed look.
“Okay, look, it’s like this,” Jake said, setting his glass on the table. “I may have been in your office earlier today, and I may have seen something on your desk that I shouldn’t have. And I may have mentioned it to my pretty wife.”
“I don’t even know where to start,” Cassidy said.
“Oh, I do!” Sam said. “I got this. Mr. Malone, son, why were you in Mr. Cassidy’s office?”
Jake stared at him. “Are you trying to do a principal impersonation?”
Sam gave him a patient look and Jake squirmed. “You’re good at it. Okay, um, I was in Cassidy’s office because I was looking for something.”
“Looking for…” Sam prodded.
“Condoms,” Jake said matter-of-factly.
Julie snorted, but Sam merely gave a sage nod. “You were seeking contraceptives.”
“Yes, to, um, fornicate with my wife.”
“Actually,” Emma said, peeking over the top of the couch as she watched the interaction, “one can’t fornicate with one’s wife. Fornication by definition is sexual intercourse with someone you’re not married to.”