Page 42 of Fate In Fiction

“Your mother and I used to eat later before we had children as well.” The light reminiscent tone in his voice brings a smile to his face. “How are the both of you doing?”

“We’re doing great,” I say, and Emmett emerges from his room, looking cozy and huggable in his hoodie and sweats. “He says hi.” I wink toward Emmett.

“I like to hear you’re both doing well. I called to invite you two to dinner on Sunday night.” I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and hold in a groan. “It’s been a while since I have seen you. I bet you both are even more lovey-dovey.” Who the hell is this man and why is he using those cringy terms?

“Let me make sure Emmett doesn’t have anything planned first.” I give my desperate eyes to Emmett, but he’s too focused on chugging a water bottle. How can this man make something so normal look so sexy? “He likes to surprise me.”

“Well, isn’t he right beside you? Ask him.” My father laughs.

“Hey, babe,” I call out in my own sweet, cringy voice. “Do we have any plans for Sunday night?” Emmett’s cocky grin widens.

“None that require leaving this suite.” He projects his voice with pride and winks. “Why?” My eye daggers zone in as my father chuckles on the other end of the phone.

Too creepy. Shouldn’t he not want to know about my bedroom life?

“My father invited us to dinner.” I shake away the shiver going up my spine.

“He can be sure to have the table set for us.” We finalize the time, and I hang up, switching my phone to airplane mode for the time being.

“You could have gotten us out of dinner, moron.” I sit on the couch, remembering he just opened up about a crappy day at work. I can’t shut him out if he’s trying this vulnerability thing. “Come on, I want to hear about your week. What happened?” I smile, waving him over as he reluctantly sits at the other end.

“I’m not used to talking about my feelings.” His palms rest on his thighs as he rubs them anxiously.

“You have them?” Maybe now isn’t the time to be a smartass.

“Today sucked.” He sighs, laying his head back, and stares up at the ceiling. “I thought she’d be happy.”

Turning to face him, my legs tuck underneath me. I’m in an oversized sweater and no pants, which could easily give him a peep show if I’m not careful. One hand rests in my lap while the other props my head up as my elbow rests on the couch.

“Josie, I can’t do this.” The pain in his voice grows as he assesses me and looks back up at the ceiling. “I should probably go to bed and sleep this off.”

“Emmett, talking is healthy. This is obviously bugging you.” I reach over and gently rub his shoulder. “You’re so tense.”

“Tense? I haven’t been laid in months and sex has always been my remedy to burn off steam.” Glancing at my teasing outfit, I take it my choice of clothing around the house probably doesn’t help. But he’s been respectful enough to never say anything. If my tension and needs are running high, then his must be at an extreme, given his playboy past.

“I’ll tell you what,” I begin, choosing my words carefully. “Tomorrow night, I can stay with Stella. You can take care of whatever you need. Or you can skip town and go under the radar to fix your needs. No questions asked.”

“I’m not skipping town to fuck a stranger, Josie.” His voice has never sounded more disgusted. “I’m trying to break the playboy stigma. People think you’re mine.”

“Right, but in normal circumstances, you’d be railing me whenever your dick desired.” I giggle, stating my point as he swallows roughly. “But that’s not our case, nor do I fit your past choice of women.”

“Josie, you’re beautiful, and I find you very attractive. I value your need for freedom more than my own sexual needs. And that’s why nothing’s happening between us.” Well, that’s not helping on my end to keep this strictly friendly... “I swear you talk like you’re completely repulsive to me.”

Maybe so I don’t throw myself at you.

“Yeah, the red hair, freckles, lives in giant sweaters and knee-high socks, with a book in hand, clearly spikes interest.” I laugh.

“It spikes something,” he mutters, and I hate how quickly my eyes drift to the hands folded in his lap.

“Stop avoiding the conversation.”

“This is the first time I almost lost an assistant, and not from firing her. She almost quit today.”

“How many assistants have you had to fire?” Is he that hard to work for?

“I’ve lost count. Usually when they try to sleep with me or discreetly set something up for blackmail, they’re gone. Adrianna is different.”

“Because she didn’t try those things?”