Feverish (Bullet #3) (29 page)

“I explained that to you, Em. Damn it. Don’t
you get it?”

Emily didn’t laugh on the outside, but his
reaction was comical. Bryce was usually quite reserved, but he was
losing it. “I told you I needed time.”

“How much goddamn time do you need? It’s been
months.”

“Listen, Bryce. Right now, I’m willing to
talk to you about working for your father. All other bets are off
right now.”

Bryce’s expression tried to match her chilly
demeanor. “What makes you think he’ll take you without me?”

She shook her head. “I have no guarantee, but
I don’t care. I would be an asset to anyone’s company.”

“Not as much as you seem to think.”

She knew he was just trying to get her goat,
and she wasn’t going to let him. She couldn’t. So she said nothing
and sipped her coffee.

“Look, Emily, I don’t think it’s too much to
ask where I stand.”

That was it. She couldn’t help it. A trickle
of emotion entered her voice. “I don’t have an answer for you,
Bryce. If you hadn’t screwed around—”

“That was
months
ago, Em. I want to
know exactly what that rock star is doing to influence you.”

Clay entered the kitchen then, right on cue.
She looked up at him from the table and felt the breath leave her
body. He only took a couple steps inside the kitchen, as though he
didn’t want to intrude. “He bothering you?”

Emily took a breath. As much as his presence
was welcome, she had to deal with Bryce on her own, for better or
for worse. “It’s fine.”

Bryce stood. Emily had never seen the man
fight or so much as lift a fist to someone else, but she could feel
the testosterone today. He didn’t move a step, though. And for some
reason, she couldn’t read Clay, not like she usually could. He
said, “I’m gonna head out for a while. If you need me,” he said,
staring Bryce down, “text or call.”

She nodded. “Okay.”

Clay nodded back and turned, walking out of
the kitchen. It wasn’t long before she heard the Corvette revving
and peeling out of the garage and down the street. That was when
she took the ring out of her jeans pocket, because now she could
talk to Bryce and say everything she needed to without worrying
about being overheard.

Chapter Thirty

ALL THE WIND was taken out of his sails. Just
as he’d feared all along. It didn’t matter that they felt perfect
for each other. She was going to go live that life she thought she
needed. Somehow, Emily believed those stupid romance novels. She
thought she had to go live the perfect life in the suburbs with two
kids, a dog, and her slick douchebag husband who didn’t love
her.

Clay parked the car and walked toward the
door of the bar. It was a place he’d frequented off and on over the
past year and a half, because it was only about five minutes from
his house.

He walked in and let his eyes adjust to the
dark. Somehow being in a dark bar made it easier to drink at three
in the afternoon. But he wasn’t going to drink yet. Not yet.

No. The plan was to drink a water and watch
whatever shit they were playing on one of their widescreens. She
had two hours. If she didn’t call or text within two hours, then he
would know she didn’t need him. Or want him. That would be the
reality. Two hours would be more than enough time for her to tell
Bryce to fuck off and then call Clay. Less than two hours, he had a
chance.

He realized too that Emily might call him if
she was having a hard time getting rid of Bryce. That’d be fine
too. Nothing he’d like better than to sink his fist into that
motherfucker’s perfect teeth. That wouldn’t mean she’d chosen
Clay
, though, and that was the part that was driving him
mad.

What the fuck was wrong with him? He’d let
down his Jet armor way too early with that woman. He’d trusted her
far more than he should have. As a PA, sure, it was necessary, but
he should have listened to Mary and kept it business only. He had
no one to blame but himself, and he was a fucking idiot for having
believed she would choose him over douchey rich boy.

He didn’t get it. He and Emily had serious
chemistry. He’d never felt that way with anyone else before. That
didn’t mean he hadn’t had some good relationships, because he
definitely had. But he and Emily clicked at a base level that he
didn’t think he ever had with anyone else. He’d been able to tell
her stuff he’d never told anyone else, and she understood.

And so knowing that she was just going to
piss that away on a guy who obviously didn’t love her made both
Clay and Jet fighting mad. He finished the water and left the
bartender ten dollars since he wasn’t going to get his business
after all.

He couldn’t bite his tongue anymore. And if
that slick little shit said one word—
one word
—about getting
the girl anyway, he was gonna fuck him up. He didn’t care if it
meant his ass would be in jail for a while or if the guy’s lawyers
decided to sue the pants off him. It didn’t matter. He had to tell
Emily what he felt. If
she
laughed, well, then, he could
wish her a happy life and ask her to leave.

He wasn’t worried about the PA part. He could
hire someone else. A new person might not be as good as Emily, but
she wouldn’t want to work with him if she decided to run off with
Bryce anyway.

He pulled into the garage. He was nervous
then, because douche boy’s red car was nowhere to be found. Emily
hadn’t called so she might have left with him. Well, yeah, that
would make sense too. If you’re gonna have a reunion fuck, you
don’t want your boss-slash-fuck buddy walking in on it.

Oh, he shouldn’t have been thinking of that.
His blood started to boil again. He was an emotional mess—angry,
hurt, feeling betrayed. He was all Clay inside, which was why it
was more important than ever to be Jet on the outside. He hoped
against hope that she’d be inside. If she wasn’t, he was going to
have to call her, and keeping Jet on was still just as
important.

The house felt quiet. Yeah, she was probably
gone. He walked back toward the kitchen, almost afraid of what he
would find.

But there she was, sitting at the table,
staring into her cup of coffee. Douche boy was gone. Clay didn’t
even want to sit in the chair where the guy had been, but it was
closest to the doorway. Part of him was even afraid to say
anything, but he had to let it out or he was gonna explode. He was
like Mount Saint Helens. The pressure was building, and if he
didn’t let it out, some bad things were going to happen.

He kept calm, though. He had to. He had to be
Jet one more time. He wasn’t going to let her shred his heart
apart. No…that was a given. He wasn’t going to let her
see
that she was shredding it. That she hadn’t called told him
everything he needed to know. She was composing herself to give him
some bad news. With or without her slick suburban asshole-to-be,
she needed to tell Clay something he wasn’t going to like.

He swallowed. His mouth felt dry but he had
to get the words out. Start simple. “What’s going on?” She looked
up at him. She’d been crying. Then he felt like a shithead. “Did he
hurt you?”

“No.”

“So what’s going on?”

“I was trying to call you.”

“That made you cry?” Yeah. All hope was
definitely gone.

She laughed in spite of her watery eyes. “No,
silly.” She wiped at her eyes. “I was crying
before
that.”

Be Jet. BE JET, goddammit.
“What made
you cry?”

She looked down at her hands on the table.
They were so delicate, so beautiful, and Clay noticed. There was no
ring on her hand. “What I told Bryce.” He wanted to keep asking
questions, start grilling her, but he knew he’d already gone too
far. It might not be any of his business…and maybe he didn’t want
to know. He nodded and clenched his teeth together, waiting for her
to say whatever it was she needed to say. “Can you believe he
really couldn’t understand why I didn’t want to stay engaged after
he slept around on me?” She shook her head, but she was still
looking at her hands. “Like he’s a prize, you know? But…this
summer, you’ve made me realize something.”

“I have?”

“Yeah. Life’s way too short to spend doing
something you don’t want to do.”

Clay let out a half chuckle. “I did say that,
didn’t I?”

“Yeah.” She looked at him then. “So I gave
him back his ring and told him to have a nice life.” Clay nodded.
Still too soon to celebrate. “And I had to tell him I was also
going to decline his dad’s offer.”

“Life’s too short?”

She smiled then. “Yep.” She looked down at
her hands again but then made eye contact with Clay. “You weren’t
planning to fill my position with someone else anytime soon, were
you?”

He shook his head. “No.” That was only the
plan if she’d left…and he wasn’t going to say anything.

“Something I realized the other day. You
remember how pissed I was that you had paid off my student
loan?”

“Like I could forget?”

“But then I started to appreciate that you
had to jump through a lot of hoops to make sure I didn’t see it
taken out of your checking. You went out of your way to do
something I could have done in two seconds if I’d written it in
your checkbook. And I somehow suspect you wouldn’t do that for just
anybody.” He shrugged a shoulder, hoping he still looked
nonchalant. “Would you?”

Jet finally rose to the surface. “Wouldn’t
you like to know?” She smiled but said nothing. Clay couldn’t wait
any longer. She was beating around the bush, and he’d had enough.
Fine. He was going to let her have his heart and if she did a tap
dance on it, so be it. At least he could say he tried. “Emily.” He
took those slim hands in his. When she looked up at him through her
watery eyes, he felt like he lost his footing. He had to push on.
“Something I’ve realized over the last couple of months.” He
swallowed. “No, let me start over.”

She removed her right hand from his and
pressed her index finger to his lips. “No, let me finish.” It felt
like she’d tied a cinderblock to his heart and it was sinking. Come
on, Jet, don’t let that shit show on your face. “Something I hadn’t
thought about until recently, Clay, is that I really don’t want to
spend life doing things I don’t want to do. It would have been easy
enough for me to walk down that path, but then you opened a door
for me I thought would always be closed. And doing that made me
start to look at everything around me in a different way. It made
me look at
you
differently. When I first met you, I thought
you were just a spoiled rock star who wanted to party all night and
sleep all day, but then you showed me there was so much more to
you.”

He grinned and moved his chair close but said
nothing. He had so much he wanted to say, but he still didn’t know
where he stood with her. Clay wanted to run ahead so badly, but he
had to wait. He took Emily’s hand. She smiled back. Her voice was
soft. “I guess it’s pretty stupid, but a couple of weeks ago, I was
trying to picture the rest of my life, and Bryce doesn’t belong
there. I don’t think about marrying him and get excited. See…I used
to date a lot of bad boys and fringe bad boys, the guys who’d make
my stomach feel like it was full of butterflies, the guys my dad
hated, but the ones who’d go hot and heavy. Those relationships
always ended badly, but I had fun while they lasted. The nice
guys—or the
proper
ones—a lot of times would treat me fine,
but there was nothing fun about it. There was no spark, no passion.
Bryce was one of those
nice
guys, but he wound up being a
real ass…and you.” Clay felt his mouth grow dry again but he kept
his focus. “You were supposed to be the guy who fizzled out, you
know? The passion was supposed to fade, or you were supposed to
turn into a dick or something, but…” Clay saw tears well up in her
eyes again. “But you’re still here, and I still care.”

He found his voice then. He took her face in
his hands. Jet was gone, off playing somewhere, and Clay was ready
to just throw it all out there—his heart, his guts, his very soul,
and this woman could do with them what she would. “Emily Brinkman,
I love you. Okay? I love you, and if you don’t love me back, my
life will go on, but I can’t go any longer without telling you. Not
telling you would be a mistake. If telling you winds up also being
a mistake, at least it’s one I can live with.” His breathing was
shallow then, and he just clenched his jaw, waiting for her to
speak. Part of him wanted to kiss her, but not anymore—not until he
knew how she felt.

She smiled as a tear welled over one of her
eyes. “I love you too, Clay.” Then he couldn’t hold back and
brought her face to his. The dryness in his mouth had gone with his
words, and he knew why. This woman—she was his water, his life. She
was everything.

Their kiss was magical. Emily caught her
breath when their lips parted again. “I’m not a planner, Emily.
Never have been; never will be. I don’t give a flying fuck about
the economy or what the cocksuckers in congress are doing to fuck
up our lives further. I’m just not that kind of guy.” He took a
deep breath. “If that’s the kind of man or life you need, then you
should walk away now.” He clenched his jaw. He was going to get
this out if it killed him. “But if you want to have nonstop fun, if
you don’t mind some spontaneity, a lot of fucking killer music,
then I’m your man. Unlike douche boy, I will always be
faithful.”

She started laughing then. “
Douche
boy?
”

He laughed with her. “Yeah, that’s my name
for the asshole who was here earlier.” He couldn’t bring himself to
say the guy’s real name. Just couldn’t. He got serious again. He
had to finish what he was thinking. “I told you a while back about
the women I loved, right? Abby and Val? I don’t love easily, but I
love hard. And it’s a forever kind of love. I’m hoping the third
time’s a charm.”