Emily opens the door, and a man brushes past her. He’s wearing a button-down shirt, a tie, and kicks that cost more than my monthly rent. He puts down his suitcase, shakes hands with Mr. Madison, and turns to Emily. He starts toward her, his arms outstretched. I step forward to get between them, but Mrs. Madison grabs my arm. “Don’t,” she warns. “This will work itself out.”
Emily lets him pull her into an embrace, but she doesn’t hug him back. She cringes instead. This warms my heart.
She looks over at me, and I see something I don’t quite understand in her gaze. Is it pity? For me? Is she afraid I can’t compete with this man? Who the hell is he, anyway?
I draw a circle around my lips, asking her who he is without anyone seeing me. She crooks her index finger into the sign for the letter x. That’s her ex? Seriously?
Emily’s past has just walked in the door. And if the look on his face is any indication, he no longer wants to be in the past. He wants more.
I look at her father, who’s smirking at me with his arms folded in front of his chest. He doesn’t want the asshat to be in the past either.
Fine. I’ll knock his ass into the middle of next week. That’s the only way he’ll ever be a part of her future.
I take a step forward flexing my fingers as I go. He’s as big as I am, but I’d be willing to bet his jaw is made of candy, just like his ass.
Emily
This is not good. Not good at all. Trip isn’t supposed to be here. He’s supposed to be in LA. But he’s here.
He walks toward me as though we’re old friends. As though just a few months ago he didn’t call me stupid, among a few other choice words. As though I hadn’t left him standing at the altar before my last trip to New York, when I met Logan. As though I would accept the embrace he tries to offer to me.
He hugs me, pulling me way too close to him. I push against his chest, harder and harder until he has to let me go. Logan’s on his away across the room. I shove Trip back and slide my hand into the crook of Logan’s arm. I brush my hair back from my face. “What are you doing here, Trip?” I grit out.
Logan flexes his fingertips, squeezing them into a fist over and over. He looks like he could choke the life out of Trip with his bare hands.
Logan looks at my dad, his eyes open in mock disbelief. “You didn’t tell her, Mr. Madison?”
“Hadn’t had a chance yet,” Dad says, but he’s smiling. “Guess now’s as good a time as any.” He motions for Trip to continue.
“Your dad is moving me out here temporarily. He didn’t like the idea of you being in the city all alone.” Trip looks at my dad as though he needs reassurance. Dad nods. Trip grins and acts like he’s going to hug me again, but Logan places a hand on his chest. Trip looks down his nose at Logan, like he just smelled something bad. “Who the hell are you?” he asks. He takes in the way that I’m holding onto Logan’s arm with all my might, and he drops his jaw for a second. He lets out a quivery breath. “This is him?” he asks the room. “This is the guy?” Then he laughs out loud.
Logan’s arm flexes beneath my hand. I squeeze it tightly, digging my fingernails into his skin to get his attention. He looks at me, finally, and I stare directly into his eyes and mouth the words I love you.
He nods ever so slightly, and the tension in his body eases a bit.
“So you’re moving to New York?” I ask Trip.
He looks at my father, who nods. “Isn’t it great?” he gushes. “Mr. Madison wants me to head up the New York office.”
I look at my dad, watching his face. “We have a New York office?”
He smiles. “We do now.”
“Congratulate me, Em!” Trip cries. “Aren’t you even the tiniest bit happy to see me?” He’s practically giddy, and it’s rather nauseating.
“Oh, Ralph,” my mother breathes as she finally realizes what’s happening. “You didn’t.” She buries her face in her hands and groans. She glances up at me. “I had no idea. I’m so sorry.” She looks at Logan with an apology on her face.
I have a feeling things are about to get worse. My gut clenches in anticipation, and my pulse starts to hammer.
“Why don’t we have a seat?” Dad says. He points toward the couch for my mom, and Trip falls into a chair across the room. I shove Logan in the hip until he drops into a chair, too, and I sit down on the edge of it. He wraps his arm around my bottom, his hand settling on my hip. Both my dad and Trip frown when they see it. I cover his hand with mine to hold him there.
“What’s going on, Dad?” I ask. I look at Trip. He’s grinning. “Why are you here, Trip?”
Trip stands up quickly and claps his hands together. “I’m your new roomie!” he cries.
Logan’s hand tightens on my waist, and I look down at him, holding up one finger to ask him for patience. “I don’t have a roommate,” I say. “Nor do I want one.”
“I can’t believe you did this, Ralph,” my mother says. She jumps to her feet. “I can’t believe you did this without talking to me.”
The room quiets, my mom’s heels clicking against the floor as she paces the only sound in the room.
“I don’t want you to be in the city all alone,” Dad says to me. He looks much too pleased with himself. “And then we realized Trip would be coming to New York, and we thought it would help both of you out. You have two bedrooms after all. And now you won’t have to be alone.”