Forever And Ever

55. Emery

"I don't understand how he keeps finding us everywhere we go. How the fuck is that possible?" I whisper.

He runs his fingers over my back soothingly.

"I don't know, pretty girl," he kisses my head. "I'm so so sorry he's doing this to you, baby."

I take a deep breath and inhale the scent of him.

"Are you sure you still want to watch a movie?" He asks quietly.

"Mhm," I murmur.

"Alright," he kisses me and gets out of the car. He sets me down on the floor and I take his hand.

"What are we going to watch?" I ask as we walk inside.

"That depends," he raises his eyebrows at me. "Are you planning to sleep through it?"

"I don't always sleep through movies," I stick my tongue out at him as we wait in line.

"You kind of do," he smiles.

I shake my head, smiling softly.

"Do you want a soda? Popcorn? Candy? A slushy?" He pulls my back against his chest.

"Can I get a slushy?" I grin up at him.

"What flavor?" He asks.

"Blue," I hum.

"Blue isn't a flavor, Emmy," he sighs.

"It is too," I protest.

"You can't taste blue, Emmy. That's not—"

"Okay, whatever," I pout. "You know what I mean."

"I'll get you your blue-flavored slushy," he says against my ear.

"Thank you," I kiss his cheek.

When we get to the counter, the guy working looks at me.

"Which movie are you seeing, darling?" He smiles.

"Uh, I'm not—"

I look up at Grayson and he glares at him.

"Love, which movie?" I grab his hand.

"The one at 1:30," he says, wrapping his arm around my waist.

"I wasn't exactly calling you darling," the guy says.

"Really?" Grayson says sarcastically.

"I was talking to this gorgeous girl," he looks me up and down.

"I'm not interested," I smile weakly.

"Just the tickets?" He says, ignoring me.

"Popcorn and a slushy," I say.

"Which slushy?" He smiles again, his eyes going to my lips every few seconds, and I feel myself losing my patience with him.

"The blue one," I grab Grayson's hand. I look up and his jaw is clenched and his eyes are narrowed.

"Sure, darling," he says. He hands me the bucket of popcorn and slushy. "That all?"

"Yes," I say.

"Alright. $23.71," he runs his fingers through his hair and I catch a glimpse of a ring on his finger. This dipshit.

"Yeah, I'm definitely not interested," I say, moving closer to Grayson.

"Your brother doesn't need to speak for you," he cocks his head.

"He's not my brother, dickhead, he's the love of my life. How old are you, thirty?" I arch my eyebrow at him and he narrows his eyes.

"I'm twenty-four," he says.