Something About Emmett (Billionaire Romance) [COMPLETED]

Chapter 13 - Something Proven

Nervous was an understatement. I was wired, humming underneath my skin with the blood of me coursing much too rapidly. Nonetheless I poured the wine into two separate glasses, careful not to spill the liquid.

"I know you prefer scotch, but I didn't find any in the cupboard," I said, placing the glass before him.

He took it, giving me a long, calculated look. "The drink of choice isn't what's on my mind," he announced.

I stared at him, taking in every detail of his face. Was it possible that his hair had grown in the short while I had seen him? Were his eyes greener today? And what was it about his bronzed skin that seemed darker, perfect?

I kept those questions silenced, asking instead a seemingly more sensible question. "What is on your mind, Emmett?"

Did I truly want to know the answer to that question, or should I have stayed quiet? Suddenly a sliver of alarm passed through me.

"If I tell you," he started, smiling so softly it was almost unnoticeable, "I'm afraid I'll upset you."

My eyes narrowed involuntarily. "I'm a grown woman. I think I can handle it."

"Alright," he said, standing from his place on the counter stool. The unexpected movement startled me, caused my heart to speed. "I'm thinking all kinds of things about you... Some soft, some strong. But they're all about you, nonetheless. Where's your bathroom?"

It took me a few seconds to recover. My voice was then shaky, unrefined. "Down the hall and to your left."

I watched him as he retreated, his tall, muscular body taking misleadingly graceful steps.

"Soft. Strong..." I repeated, muttering under my breath. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

I started to cook the steaks I had left thawing before work, thankful they required nothing other than a simple seasoning and a few minutes on the stove. Apart from the meat, I tossed up a salad with balsamic vinegar, some olive oil, and salt, and called it a meal.

I was already working on the stove when he returned.

I tried to cook as calmly as I could, hoping the pretense would disguise the tension in my body. The tension, like a plucked string that never broke, seemed to arise in my body whenever he was near, and it was at its peak point tonight.

We ate quietly. Avidly, I searched for those moments of his unawareness where I could steal just one look at him. A single glance.

But this time he caught me, and he did not dare to look away from my curious eyes.

"Don't lie to me, Jules. What are you thinking about, right now?"

"You didn't come to the show tonight," I blurted.

He seemed taken aback for a moment before he let a smile touch his mouth. "You noticed."

"Yes, I've grown used to you." I murmured, looking down as I pinched a piece of steak with my fork. Yet I wasn't hungry; my stomach was too filled with nerves.

"I thought you wanted me to 'pet a dog', rather than go see you," he said, smirking at me.

My face froze for a moment, before I burst out in laughter. He seemed pleased as he watched me, chuckling quietly underneath his breath.