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“Wren, you can’t make people do what you want,” Bennett says from behind me.
“Danson, she’s speaking her truth, saying what’s important to her,” Emmett says. I still don’t know why he’s always calling Bennett Danson. I wasn’t in their crowd back in high school, but I’m sure it’s a nickname. “You’ll want her to have that when she starts dating.”
“Dating? Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” Bennett walks around me and slides the jacket on Wren with her help.
“Okay, next time you see me, I’ll open my arms,” I say. “Now turn around real quick.”
She does as she’s told, and I feel all their eyes on me as I take out her haphazard ponytail and fix it so it’s in the middle of her head.
“Love your shoes, by the way,” I say once I’m done.
“That was good. Complimenting me,” Wren says. “She’s a good one.” She looks at Emmett.
He shakes his head, sitting down and stealing what I think is Wren’s plate of food that isn’t quite finished. He shrugs. “She’s a woman. They live for compliments.”
I narrow my eyes at him.
“Gotta go. Last goodbyes.” Bennett grabs her backpack from Emmett since he took over Wren’s seat.
Wren goes around the table and hugs everyone, including me. “And I like hugs goodbye. It’s a security thing.”
Bennett glances at Darla, and she frowns. I’m missing something there. I hug Wren, but not nearly as tight as Darla.
“I should get to the studio and set up.” I move to climb out of the chair to make my escape.
“You need to eat properly,” Darla says, lifting her coffee mug. There’s nothing in front of her to eat. Maybe she already did.
“How do you expect to stay in shape and be limber without the proper nutrients?” Emmett asks, finishing off what looks like french toast with strawberries. If I was comfortable, I might cut a piece off for myself, it looks so good.
“Why are you here?” I ask, stripping my eyes away from his french toast that’s dripping with syrup. I’ve never wanted a sugary breakfast more in my life.
“It’s my break time.”
“He stops by to see Wren. They have a close relationship.” Darla is clearly telling me the truth.
I can’t help but wonder why Emmett was trying to hide it. His relationship with Wren is endearing. Could there be a soft heart under that jokester exterior?
“That’s nice.” I shift again to flee the room.
“I’m letting you get away with it this time, but tomorrow, you eat. I’ll have Jensen prepare something for you.”
“She’s eye-fucking my french toast, so maybe that’s a good choice.” Emmett lifts his fork with a strawberry and french toast, syrup streaming down it, toward me. “I promise I don’t have cooties.”
I roll my eyes.
Darla laughs.
“No, thanks.”
He slides the fork into his mouth, his eyes shutting for a moment as I’m sure the sweetness from the strawberry and syrup mix together to explode on his taste buds. His expression shifts to pure enjoyment, and I find myself jealous as hell. Damn him.
“I gotta go.” I stand from the chair.
Darla waves goodbye, watching me with her coffee mug poised in front of her mouth. She has a smile I can’t decipher, but I choose to let it go and focus on getting to the studio.
On the way there, my stomach clenches, and I curl in on myself for a moment. I grab the edge of a door frame to steady myself, taking long, slow breaths until the nausea retreats. It always hits at the worst and most unexpected times.
“Boo,” Emmett whispers in my ear.
