Chapter 8 What The Hell

Emma's POV:

I washed each plate slowly, using the water as an excuse to linger.

I needed a moment to steady myself. Being near him stirred up feelings I hadn't expected- and definitely shouldn't allow. Two years side by side, and never once did he get under my skin like this.

"Is this what happens when we finally spend time together outside of work? What's gotten into me?"

"Maybe it's the dinner, Emma." His voice broke into my thoughts with a playful laugh.

"I'll blame it on the food." A laugh slipped out as I turned toward him.

"Let's move to the couch," he suggested, flashing a warm smile.

"He took a bottle of wine and two glasses." Together we walked into the living room, his palm lightly resting on my lower back, sending a jolt right through me. I kept my face turned away, certain that one look at my eyes would give everything away.

The moment I sat down, I straightened up and put a little space between us. That lasted only a second-he joined me on the couch and closed the gap, pouring us both a generous glass.

"Thanks," I said with a smile, taking a small sip and leaning back on the sofa.

"Emma, is that your real name? Do you have any brothers or sisters? What about your parents?" he asked, his curiosity genuine.

"I do. My little sister's in London right now, working her way through med school. She's set on becoming a heart surgeon. My parents are still together, still hopelessly in love after forty years," I said, a note of pride in my voice.

"That's incredible!" Brandon exclaimed. Honestly, that's the dream for me-finding a love that lasts like that." His grin was genuine.

"Same here. Maybe it'll happen for both of us someday." I smiled.

A shadow crossed his face for just a moment. I could tell his thoughts wandered, probably to Darcy and the life he once imagined with her.

Without thinking, I took his hand. Our fingers touched, and he turned back to look at me.

"You're going to find the right person, Brandon. If Darcy wasn't it, then someone even better is out there for you," I said to him gently.

"Yeah, I know you're right. It just hurts a little," he said with a hint of sorrow.

"Of course it does. But I promise, it won't hurt forever," I responded to him with a warm smile, hoping he'd find a bit of comfort.

"I wish that time would hurry up already. But enough about me. Weren't you supposed to be sharing your story tonight?" he said, brushing off the heaviness with a laugh.

"Honestly, my story's pretty simple. Life's been quiet for the most part," I replied, offering a shrug.

"Really, I keep things simple. Work keeps me busy, and when I'm not there, I'll grab dinner or a movie with friends if I have the time."

"Why not cut loose? Go have some real fun once in a while?" he asked.

"I do have fun every now and then. Back in my teenage years, I got all my wild out. You'd hardly believe some of it," I admitted, chuckling.

"I knew it. You're not nearly as quiet as you act. Come on, Emma, confess- just how wild did you get? I played it safe as a kid, probably making up for lost time now." He laughed.

I could tell exactly what he meant-nights full of drinks, wild parties, and more than a few flings.

"You're not wrong." I laughed. "Back then, I was a handful-parties every weekend, too many nights sneaking out, drinking when I shouldn't, always landing in some kind of trouble at school. My parents probably lost sleep for years, but they never gave up on me. By nineteen, I finally figured things out," I explained.

"See, I knew there was a wild side lurking beneath that calm exterior." He winked.

"I've toned it down a lot since then, trust me," I responded.

"Hard to imagine, honestly. Something tells me you still have a little wildness left in you." His smile had a teasing edge.

Maybe he was right, but he didn't need to know what actually made me reckless.

"You're welcome to keep guessing, but you're not getting any real answers out of me." My voice dropped just enough to match the playful glint in his eye. He seemed to catch my drift immediately.

"Never say never," he replied. Giving him a pointed look, I raised my brow. He clearly didn't care about subtlety.

Whatever he was thinking, I saw it in his expression- he hoped I'd cross a line I knew better than to cross. I refused to become the woman who got involved with her boss. That just was not who I was.

"In your dreams," I said with a laugh.

"I really hope that's true," he replied, his voice a bit huskier than usual.

A knot formed in my throat, and I took a deliberate step back. His flirting needed to stop, and so did my reactions. Redirecting the conversation seemed like the safest bet, so I blurted out the first neutral topic that came to mind.

*

Two hours later.

Empty bottles covered the table. With wine and beer, laughter came easy and nerves disappeared. Brandon's teasing didn't rattle me anymore. I felt lighter, freer, and more at ease.

My attraction to him didn't feel nearly as dangerous as it had before.

"You really are breathtaking, Emma. How is it possible no man's swept you off your feet yet?" Brandon asked, looking at me.

"Maybe I'm just waiting for someone who feels right," I responded, my teeth sinking lightly into my lower lip as I met his gaze.

A small sound slipped from him, almost like a groan, and I realized the lip-biting had gotten to him.

Brandon moved closer, his face just a breath from mine. One gentle hand tucked a stray lock behind my ear and came to rest at my cheek.

Trying not to let my nerves show, I held his gaze, heart pounding as he leaned in. I should have pulled away. Instead, I found myself rooted to the spot.

His lips found mine before I had a chance to overthink.

A satisfied moan escaped me as we melted into the kiss.

Every bit of resistance faded as I melted into his kiss, drawn in by the warmth and taste of him.

Strong hands found my hips and pulled me closer to him. His lips pressed against mine sent a rush of heat through my entire body, stirring up a fierce longing I couldn't ignore. A deep, urgent sound vibrated against my lips as his tongue swept across my bottom lip, coaxing a needy whimper from me. My mouth parted, and he eagerly slipped his tongue inside, the kiss turning wild and heated.

Suddenly, a jolt of panic shot through me. What was I doing? My heart raced as I broke away, scrambling to my feet and grabbing my bag from the sofa.

"I can't do this. I'm sorry," I blurted out, voice tight with nerves, making a beeline for the door.

My hand barely brushed the doorknob before he caught up, his arms circling my waist and spinning me around. Trapped between his body and the door, I could barely catch my breath. His eyes were dark and burning with lust and longing, and it made me weak in the knees.

"Why leave? I want you. You felt it too, didn't you? All night there's been something between us. Why are you trying to fight it?" he asked breathlessly.

"Brandon, this isn't who I am. I'm not the kind of woman who hooks up with her boss. I just... I can't," I said, trying to maintain some kind of control.

"We're both grown-ups, Emma. None of that matters to me. All I care about is you," he replied.

"Yes, I really do need to leave." I shoved past him, slipped out the door, and hurried through the quiet garage, fumbling for my phone to get a cab.

Putting distance between myself and Brandon was the only thing on my mind. I couldn't believe I'd let things spiral like that.

The dread of facing him at work settled in my stomach.

Damn it! Why did I let myself be so reckless?

The sight of the taxi lights brought a wave of relief as I slid into the back seat and gave the driver my address. The entire ride home, my thoughts spun in circles about how I'd ever be able to look him in the eye at work. Stepping through my front door, I grabbed a bottle of water, downed a couple of painkillers, and changed into pajamas. Exhaustion hit hard as I flopped onto my bed. Reaching for my phone, I double-checked my alarm. Work wasn't going to wait for me to sort out this mess.

Three new messages blinked on the screen, every one of them from Brandon.

He said, "Emma, please come back.

He added, "I'm sorry."

Brandon's last message said, "Just let me know you got home safe, okay? Please."

A sigh escaped me as I typed out a short reply. "I'm home."

I didn't bother saying anything more. After setting my phone on the nightstand, I pulled the covers up to my chin. Sleep came fast, and as I drifted off, I wished harder than ever that I'd wake up and find the whole night erased.