“We can talk about whatever you want to talk about,” he murmured, prompting me to exhale in gratitude. I even managed a laugh because of how ridiculously breathless and flustered I’d gotten. “Easy. Drink some water,” Emmett smirked, handing me my glass.
“Thank you,” I snorted, taking a drink and a breath. It probably wasn’t healthy for me to have damn near a panic attack at the mere thought of discussing the past with Emmett, but that was just what it was. Maybe someday, it would change.
Maybe.
“Breathe, Aly. You good now?” Emmett teased when I finished my water and switched back to my champagne. His blue eyes glimmered as he grinned at me, somehow putting me at ease. But just as I finally caught my breath and found my bearings, a sharp voice rang out behind me.
“Oh my God – Seafood Girl? Is that you?”
Fuck.
Seriously?
I winced at the nickname because one, I hated it and two, the only person who addressed me with it was a loud, demanding socialite who I pretty much never enjoyed seeing.
Looking over my shoulder, I found myself staring at Britt Heatherton, one of my regulars at Stanton Family Market. She had a notoriously sharp voice and a less-than-favorable reputation among the wait staff. She usually came by for power lunches dressed head-to-toe in Tory Burch, but tonight she was wearing a gorgeous mint green dress that reminded me that I’d come here in faded denim and a T-shirt with my café’s lobster logo on the breast.
“Oh my God, so hilarious to see you here of all places,” Britt crowed, leaning in to kiss my cheek. “Are you catering some event? Did you meet my bestie Emmett Hoult? Isn’t he just dee-vine?” she asked, dancing around to his side of the table.
My eyes fluttered as Britt ran her hand all over Emmett’s chest, like she was showcasing a prize on a game show.
Dammit, Britt, I thought as Britt’s creepy stroking drew my eyes back to Emmett’s body. I had a twelve-minute streak of not looking at it since getting out of the car, but now it was hard for me not to stare at how sinfully good he looked in that white shirt. It was fitted to show off the perfectly tapered V of his torso, and every time he moved his arms, the sleeves hugged his biceps tight.
Ugh. Pretty much every inch of Emmett’s body was a breathtaking view, and it made me feel suddenly and shamefully possessive. It made me want to snatch Britt’s hands right off of Emmett’s body and reclaim it as mine.
Not that it was mine.
I definitely wasn’t supposed to want it to be. I was supposed to be answering some question Britt asked me forever ago, but now I couldn’t even remember what she said. Lucky for me, Emmett cut in.
“Actually, Britt, Aly here is one of my oldest friends. She’s the only person I’ve pretty much known since I was born,” he said, prompting Britt’s smile to tighten.
“Oh. Is that right? So she’s known you longer than I have?” Britt cocked her head then turned to me with a proud look on her face. “I’ve been BFF with Emmett for like, ten years now. I interned at the events place that did his fraternity’s Black and White ball, and I guess we pretty much hit it off from there, right?” she asked, her bejeweled hand squeezing his shoulder as she beamed down at him.
Emmett flashed me a deliberately awkward smile as he answered her. “Yes, Britt. I guess we did.”
“Mm-hm. And – oh! Speaking of events, I happen to be planning the party for Emmett’s big fundraiser next month,” Britt told me, glowing with pride. “I’m not even exaggerating when I say it’s going to be the event of the summer, so you should totally come.” Her big smile became half-cringe as she pointed at my shirt. “But definitely don’t wear that. Right?” she giggled, giving Emmett’s shoulder another squeeze.
“Don’t worry. Aly’s got some pretty killer dresses in her arsenal.”
My heart gave one loud thump as he referenced the dress he’d peeled halfway off my body the other night. But before I could react, Britt cooed again.
“Oop! Looks like my date’s here!” she said, holding her tanned arm out to a gorgeous but noticeably sullen redhead who made a show of sulking over in her heels. She rolled her eyes elsewhere as Britt said, “Emmett, you know Natalie.”
“Of course. How have you been, Natalie?” Emmett asked, though Natalie refused to make eye contact let alone answer. All she did was whip out her phone and type furiously as we all kind of stared.
When she angrily hit send with her thumb, Emmett’s phone dinged on the table, its screen glowing with a new text.
The drama. It felt like I was watching a reality show.
“Ookay. Maybe go a lil’ subtler next time, babe,” Britt snorted before flashing us her favorite cringe-smile again. “Guess I’ll escort her away. But talk soon, both of you! Have a good evening!” she sang before hustling a glaring Natalie to their table.
Once they were gone, I couldn’t help directing a bewildered but thoroughly amused look at Emmett. I knew he sensed it because he was laughing to himself, reluctant to look back at me.
“What?” he finally asked.
“That was actually going to be my question because what the heck was that?”
Emmett played dumb. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”