At that point, Cohen is laughing so hard I fear he might break something. The only thing I can do at this point is to pray this is all a joke, but when I look up and meet Nate’s eyes again, I know if it is, then the joke’s on me.
His lips are tipped up in what can only be described as a shit-eating grin sinful enough to melt panties, pink lips and all. I don’t even try to figure out what he’s thinking because all I can focus on is trying not to throw up.
EMBER’S TAN SKIN HAS HELD a blush on her cheeks for the last two hours. Dinner continued as normal after the announcement of the big plans for her birthday, but other than that moment when she looked at me in shock, she hasn’t given me those eyes once more. I’ve tried because I can’t understand for the life of me why there was pain dancing in them when she found out she would be spending her birthday at my club.
How have things gotten so strained between us?
Sure, we had a moment when things were awkward years ago, but we had settled into our friendship easy enough after some time passed. Things were never the same— fuck, far from it—after she admitted her feelings toward me. Feelings I had been fighting for her for a damn long time surfaced and obviously haven’t gone away, but they have never put this kind of tension on our friendship.
It’s been bothering me for months, but I still can’t figure out what I fucking did to make her look at me like she wishes she had a knife to stab into my back. Hell, up until Dani and Cohen got married a year and a half ago, things had been fine. Then she started skipping out anytime everyone was together. When she did show, she avoided me like I had the plague. I can’t even remember the last time we had a conversation, let alone a time that I was on the receiving end of a genuine smile from her.
Plates pushed aside, everyone continues to talk and catch up. I look back across the table as Evan pulls on my hair, ignoring the pain in my scalp as he tries to pull my hair from my head, and kick my leg out in her direction. She jumps but doesn’t move her attention from Cohen’s brother, Cam. She listens to whatever the fuck he’s carrying on about and ignores me as usual.
Fuck this shit.
“Ember, mind giving me a hand getting this shit off my face?” I ask, knowing she has too good of manners to ignore me when I’ve spoken directly to her. Especially as I did it loudly enough that those around us look over and laugh at what Molly did to me earlier.
I watch her take a deep breath before looking away from Cam and fucking finally giving me those eyes.
“I’m pretty sure you can handle it,” she says softly, and once again, I see that pain just below the surface.
“Might be so, still asking for your help.”
One way or another, I’m getting to the bottom of this shit. I finally have everything in my life going on the right track, full speed ahead, and I want my little firecracker along for the ride with me.
Her lips thin for just a second before she catches herself. Right when she’s about to open her mouth, I assume to give me another line of bullshit, my mom interrupts her. “You can use my bathroom, honey. Ember, the makeup remover is in the second drawer on the left.”
I raise one of my eyebrows at Ember, daring her to fucking say no now. Panic briefly crosses her face, so fleeting I question if that’s what I saw, before she stands from the table and starts to walk up the deck stairs and into the house. Not even saying a word.
“Come here, little prince,” my sister coos and takes her youngest from my arms. “Be nice,” she whispers at me when I move to stand. I look at her with confusion, but she just gives me a sad smile.
What in the fucking hell? I swear all the women in my life are insane.
I unsnap the tutu I had made for myself when Molly told me she wished I had one just like hers as I walk up the deck stairs, dropping it on the couch when I enter the house. The silence around me is so thick I want to knock something off the wall just to ease the trepidation it’s creating. Shaking off the ridiculous feelings, I walk through the house, up the stairs, and into my parents’ bedroom at the end of the hall. I find Ember in their bathroom pulling out some girly shit, and I stop in the doorway to wait for her to acknowledge that I’m there.
“How long are you planning to stand there?” she asks a minute later, not looking away from what she’s doing.
“Depends. How long are you planning to ignore me, babe?” I shoot back, my confusion growing when her shoulders pull tight.
“Don’t call me that,” she seethes, only pausing briefly in her task.
“What the fuck, Em?”
“Just don’t. Do not call me babe. I’m not your fucking babe,” she says with so much hate in that one word I’m struck dumb.
“Right,” I stutter, finding my feet and walking into the room. Maybe it’s her lady time? I sit on the chair in front of my mom’s vanity and look up at her. Her eyes are pinched tight and her chest is moving rapidly with her rushed breaths. “It’s just a word, Em. I didn’t realize it was offensive.”