Be the Girl

Heads turn toward us as we stand in the doorway. People watch Cassie curiously.

Cassie shrinks into herself, her shoulders curling inward, her eyes wide and unsure of where to look, the easily induced smile replaced by stony shock and discomfort.

She’s fully aware they’re looking at her.

I lean in. “Are you okay?”

She shakes her head and shouts, “It’s loud!” She presses her hands against her ears. “It’s too loud!”

I look to Emmett. He nods to the front door.

“Okay, let’s go outside.” I hook my arm through hers. She stiffens, but she lets me lead her out. In moments, we’re back on the porch and Cassie is making a dramatic point of coughing and waving away the cloud of cigarette smoke that lingers, glowering at it.

“We’ll walk you home, Cass,” Emmett says softly.

“No. I don’t want to leave.” She shakes her head furtively, her jaw set with determination, even as wariness flickers in her eyes. “Where’s Zach?”

“Probably in there.” Emmett slips out his phone and sends a quick text. He watches his screen a moment. “Oh. Sweet. Okay, follow me.” He leads us farther down the driveway, behind the house, to a separate garage at the back of the property. “Go up,” he instructs, pointing for Cassie to lead us up a set of wooden stairs that end at a second-story door.

“Better?” Emmett asks as we step into the small apartment.

Cassie nods, her eyes zeroing in on Zach. She grins and Emmett’s shoulders seem to sink with relief. Zach is sitting with four other guys on a sectional around the flat screen, battling it out in a game of hockey on the PS4.

“Who lives here?” I ask, taking in the beige walls and basic furniture. A simple, all-white kitchen runs along one side. A small hallway leads off the other side of the living room, I assume to a bedroom and bathroom.

“Mower’s older brother, when he’s not up in Fort McMurray working.”

“Harty,” Zach croons, dragging the ending, barely glancing over his shoulder to add, “Beer’s in the fridge.”

“Thanks, man.” Emmett shrugs off his jacket and tosses it to a chair, then heads for the kitchen. “AJ?” His eyebrows raise in question.

I consider it a moment, my mother’s “Make good choices” lingering in my mind. Having one or two beers and walking home versus five or six and driving is definitely a good choice. As was grabbing that extra-minty gum. I nod, slipping off my jacket and setting it on top of his.

“Hey. Little Harty’s here, too!” Zach flashes a sloppy grin. He’s already had a few beers. And possibly some weed, based on his lazy red eyes. “Come on over here, Cass.” He shifts his big body, squishing the guys next to him, making room for her in the corner.

“Okay, Farmer.” She laughs as she heads for the couch, shrugging off her coat, letting it land on the floor. She settles in, her eyes locking on Zach, studying him. In this unknown and unsettling arena, she has found her anchor.

Emmett snaps the caps off the bottles and hands me one as he takes in the scene before him—five hockey players and his little sister at a party—with a smirk.

“See? She’s going to be fine,” I assure him.

“You’re right. I’m glad we brought her out. She deserves to do things like this. She’s like everyone else. She just wants to have fun.” He tips the neck of his bottle and clanks it against mine. “Cheers. Happy birthday.”

“Not for another”—I check a clock on the wall—“three hours.”

“Just practicing.” He leans in to press his lips against mine in a teasing kiss and my knees weaken.

“Wait … what?” Cassie exclaims, and we turn to see her staring at us. Her eyes flip from our faces to the bottles in our hands, and to our faces again—as if she’s trying to decide if us kissing or us drinking beer is more bewildering.

Emmett’s free hand curls around my waist, pulling my body against his.

“Oh, you didn’t know about them yet?” Zach grits his teeth as his player loses the puck. “Your brother stole AJ from me.”

“He did?”

“No.”

Cassie grins. “You’re joking.”

“I am joking.”

She considers us another moment and then mutters, “’Kay, whatever.”

“Exactly, Cass. Whatever.” Zach jabs at his remote control with feverish thumbs. A loud chorus of curses explodes as his opponent—I think his name is Ben—throws his remote on the couch and climbs out of his seat, heading for the fridge, an empty beer can dangling from his fingers.

“Get over here so I can finally kick your ass at something, Harty.”

With one last kiss that makes my legs wobble, Emmett joins the fold.





“No, no, no, no … ah!” Emmett tosses his remote and sinks into the couch beside me with a groan, as a round of raucous cheers erupts. His hand slips over my knee to casually rest on my thigh.

“Time to give someone else a shot.” Zach turns to Cassie. “Want to try and beat me?”

“No. It’s okay.” She shakes her head, her eyes flickering across the faces surrounding us. People have been trickling into the apartment over the past hour and, where it was once eight of us, there must be forty people milling in here now, everyone save for Cassie drinking. I’m guessing she doesn’t want to bring attention to herself.

The door creaks open and Emmett curses under his breath, his jaw tensing. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

A quick glance and I see why. Holly’s there, arm in arm with Adam.

“That guy is such a dick,” he mutters.

“Jen told me you fought him?”

“He told Cassie that there was no such thing as Santa Claus last year. I know, she was fourteen and it was probably time someone told her, but he did it to hurt her.” Emmett glares at the stocky guy. “We were friends for years. We played on the same team. Our families hung out a lot. But I got better and he didn’t, and they cut him. He got pissed that I didn’t drop down a division to keep playing with him.” Emmett shakes his head. “I can’t believe she’d go after him.”

“Do you care that Holly’s with someone else?” Jealousy flares inside me with the possibility.

He seems to consider that. “I’d be lying if I didn’t say it’s weird to see her with someone else, but no. She’s not the person I thought she was. At least we’ve both moved on.” He leans into me. He’s downed three beers already and his body is relaxed against me. “Maybe she’ll see us and leave.”

If only … “Is the bathroom down that hall?”

With Emmett’s nod, I squeeze his knee and head for it, thankful it’s available.

I take my time, checking my makeup and clothes, fluffing my waves, hoping Emmett’s right and she’s gone by the time I come back.

Something tells me that’s not likely to happen, though.

I reemerge to find Emmett waiting in a casual pose, his back pressed against the wall, his hands in his pockets.

“All yours.” I gesture behind me.

“I like the sound of that.” With a grin, he herds me against the wall in the corner, his face dipping into my neck, the smell of his body wash and shampoo teasing my senses. His lips skate across my skin, sending my blood racing through my veins. “How much longer do I have to wait?” he whispers, his grip on my waist tightening.

“Uh … I …,” I stammer as my body tenses. Is he asking what I think he’s asking? “I’m not sure?”

“Two hours left till midnight?”

It dawns on me that he’s talking about my birthday, and I release a nervous laugh. “Oh. Yeah. Just under.” It’s ten after ten now.

He pulls back. “Wait. What did you think I meant?” A moment later, as if replaying his words and realizing, his eyes widen. “Oh, shit. No. That’s … no. I’m not asking for that. I mean, it’s not that I don’t want to—”

“I do, too,” I blurt out, but quickly add, “just not yet.”

“Yeah. Not yet.” He brushes a strand of hair from my face, swallowing hard, hesitating. “Is it because … I mean, are you …” His jaw tenses as he fumbles awkwardly around the personal question.

It’s so endearing to see Emmett not confident about something for once that I can’t help but laugh. I decide that I don’t mind him knowing—I want him to know.