Emma That is Dead (FREE!)

Chapter Twenty-Four

There it is. My gaze moves away from his, and settles on the collar of his jacket. "We're not. But I think she's nice, and I'd like to get to know her better."

Smith gives me a funny look.

"Is that weird?" I ask, fighting back a cringe.

He shakes his head. "Not at all. It's just ... unexpected."

I imagine it is. In all the years we've known each other, I've never strayed far from our social group. Soccer doesn't count. I'm a different person on the field than I am off. On the field, I'm confident. Ready for anything. But off, I'm more reserved. I prefer predictability, no surprises allowed. It's why I Google the spoilers for every book I read. If I know what's going to happen beforehand, I won't feel as anxious by the end.

"I'm glad you came out tonight." The conversation's over. Smith inches closer, closer, until my back presses against the SUV. The corner of his mouth inches up, a smile meant for only me. "I missed you."

And just like that, all the air leaves my lungs. When my hands clasp his hips, the curve of muscles beneath his shirt tease my fingertips. The way he's looking at me now says he's no longer thinking about our friends.

Neither am I.

His voice suddenly thickens, radiating from some place deep. "Can I see you tomorrow night?"

My heart loses control in my chest, and for a moment, words fail me. When I regain the power of speech, I try to keep my voice casual, and not sound as desperate as I feel. "I'd like that. Oh, wait—" My stomach plummets to my toes. "I can't, I'm watching Rowan. My dad and Meredith have a dinner party to go to and won't get back until late. I'm spending the night."

He finds a way to step closer, and the heat from his body somehow penetrates our clothes, sending a delicious rush of warmth across my skin. Or maybe I'm the one who's overheating?

"I can come over after your sister's tucked in bed." His jaw clenches, unclenches, as he dips his head closer.

Alone time with Smith. It's exactly what I've been wanting, what I've been waiting for for so long. Just me and him and no one around to interfere. Dad's dinner parties are elaborate affairs. I remember them from when I was younger. Influential people discussing influential things. Any reason to talk about themselves over bottles of bubbly.

They'll be gone for hours.

My fingers crawl up Smith's chest and curl around the back of his neck. "She's usually asleep by eight-thirty."

"I can be there by eight-thirty-one."

I can't hide my smile. "Do you remember where they live?"

"The gated neighborhood on Gull Lake," he murmurs, his breath against my lips. His fingers guide my chin upward until his mouth captures mine, slowly, so slowly, his tongue probing its way inside.

The tension that's been plaguing me melts away, taking the recent drama with it. I want to stay in this moment forever, cancel the rest of the world. But a car careens into the parking lot, kicking up stones, and the moment's over before it begins. The black Range Rover pulls into a spot nearby, and more kids than what can fit comfortably in the rear seats spill out the back doors. They migrate to neighboring vehicles, whooping and hollering their goodbyes, as their voices echo around us.

I glance at the time on my phone. "Shit, I have to go. I told Mom I'd be back by midnight."

Smith lets out a dismal sigh. "I should get home too. Booker has an early lacrosse game and I'm expected to show my support." He rolls his eyes. "But I should be back in time to catch the last half of your game."