Page 41 of Fate In Fiction

He bites back the obvious remark that’s eager to fly from his mouth, but shoots me a raised eyebrow instead. “Are you taking the entire day off?” He takes another bite of his bagel as my eyes trace around the kitchen.

“I might attempt a normal domestic day and see if Emery is available to teach me how to make a decent meal.” I need to learn how to do this basic task for myself.

“Good girl.” He smirks into his next bite. “Don’t give up.”

“What time do you plan to be back home tonight?” I choose to ignore his comment as I still try to rid my mind of knowing what is under his suit.

“Why? Do you plan to have the bathroom free of whatever you were hiding in there?” His eyebrows wiggle as he puts on his shoes.

“I wasn’t hiding anything,” I defend, lifting my mug to cover half my face.

“Mmhmmmm,” he hums, and continues to make a buzzing sound as an implication.

“Oh, grow up.”

“Admit it. You have a grown-up toy.” Emmett picks up his workbag. “Actually, don’t. Your blush is wicked cute right now.” He walks over and pinches my nose. “I’ll be home around seven.”

“I don’t have––” Emmett closes the door before I finish.

There shouldn’t be any humiliation, but a part of my goal is to keep things as platonic as possible unless we are in the company of others. The other part is helping him discover himself. Now, for me to master a meal without burning down the place. I open my phone and send off a text to Emery.

* * *

The week passed with Emmett out of town for last-minute work travels. I spend the week curled up with Advil and excruciating period cramps. Thankfully, he wasn’t there to witness my moment of weakness. Not something he needs to hear about, especially the extent of my hormones. I shut the timer off and pull the chicken out of the oven and figure I can get this plated before Emmett walks through the door. For once, I’m proud of what I made.

“Honey, I’m home,” he sings as I manage to plate the perfectly roasted chicken and vegetables. “It smells amazing in here, Josie.” I smile, proud of the great week I’ve had. Between work and cooking lessons, I’ve managed to keep busy enough to avoid thinking about Emmett.

“I’ve been Emery’s kitchen bitch this week, and she’s worked with me to perfect a signature dish.” I scoop mashed potatoes onto the plates, then turn to face him. “It’s nothing fancy, but it’s my first successful meal without relying on staff.”

Dropping his work stuff, his smile beams as he walks up to me. “I’m so proud of you.” Staring down at the plates longer than needed, he clears his throat. “I have to admit, I thought it would be hell living with someone, but I’ve found myself looking forward to spending the evenings with you.” My stomach flutters from his honesty.

“I feel the same.” My chin tilts up, meeting his eyes as the energy changes in the small distance remaining between us. “You’re not as terrible as I imagined living with a reformed playboy would be.” Invading my personal bubble, his expensive scent overtakes the smell of food. I’d like to blame my hormones for the plumpness of my lips because they’re noticeably kissable, but that’s not the case. My heart hammers in my chest, thinking how this moment would almost be a waste if he didn’t kiss me. Emmett flicks his eyes down to my lips, lingering as he visually debates his next move. They’re hooded and tell me he’s waiting for my approval to lean in.

Europe, Josie. I shake my head and jump into motion by setting the plates in our preferred places on the kitchen island, trying to erase the past minute. Walking back to the counter, I busy myself.

“Hey.” Emmett’s hand rest on my shoulders, steadying me as I open the drawer for two forks. “I’m trying to keep myself at a yellow light, at best red, around you.” Closing the drawer, I spin around and realize that wasn’t the best idea, now that I’m pinned against the counter. “You wanted to keep physical activity for the public, when needed. If you give me the green light in private, my charm will hit you in full force, locking you under my spell.” I roll my eyes, even though my insides are screaming “green light!”

“Get over yourself.” To my surprise, my voice stays level instead of its usual fake confidence. “A guy won’t tend to stand that close, or stare at my lips if he doesn’t plan to kiss me. You threw me off, Rookie.” A smirk appears, and as he takes a deep breath, it brings him even closer. I stifle my lungs as long as I can, trying not to focus on his next move.

“Your dinner looks amazing. Let’s enjoy it while it’s warm.” A silent whoosh of air leaves me as he walks over to the island bar stool and takes a seat.

“And not burnt!” I smile, taking the first bite before he joins me.

“Wow.” Emmett sits back in his chair. “This tastes phenomenal. Thank for cooking for us.” He takes another bite before he’s even finished his first, making me prouder than I thought I could be of a meal.

“You’re welcome.” We finish eating in silence, but Emmett’s forehead scrunches as if he has a busy mind. “How was your day? It seems your assistant did a great job of rearranging your schedule.”

“I… I may have overstepped my boundaries a bit,” he admits slowly, like he’s never been wrong before. “I meant well, but…” He stands, taking our plates to the sink with a sigh. “I don’t want to bore you with my work life.”

“I’m here to listen.” And just as that leaves my lips, my phone lights up with my father’s name.

“Take that. I’ll go change out of my suit.” He heads to his room as I pick up my phone from the counter.

“Hi, Dad.”

“Good evening, Phinie.” My heart drops with his formality, but what else should I expect from him? “Am I interrupting you on this gloomy Friday night?” If he really cared about interrupting, he could have sent a text to call him instead.

“Not at all. Me and Emmett were just finishing up dinner.” Pacing back and forth, my nerves kick in. His people usually reach out during the week if something is needed, or when I run into him while visiting with Julianne at our house.