Page 65 of The One Timer

“Since when do you want to hide from attention?” Kathleen says to me under her breath as we walk outside the garage to find the limo.

“Since Em is uncomfortable with it,” I whisper back.

“I don’t know about this place you’re talking about dragging us to,” Uncle Walt says as we pile into the back and I snuggle next to Emery, an arm around her shoulder like I’m shielding her from the world—or from my family. Not that they’re bad—in fact they’re great, but I know they’re strangers and I have a feeling Em doesn’t have a lot in common with them—except me.

Hell that probably makes her more uncomfortable than anything else. And she is uncomfortable. I can feel the tension in her stiffness.

“It’s a fun place. You can let your hair down Uncle Walt—oh sorry, I forgot you’re short on hair these days.”

“You’re not too old to throttle,” he says chuckling.

The limo pulls up after a two-minute drive and I’m gratified by the smirky-smile on Em’s face. I squeeze her shoulder and we get out.

"I haven't been to a joint like this since college," his sister says.

"I don't think I ever have," his uncle says. They both look at Emery.

She shrugs. "I don't get out much period."

"Don't worry. The food won't kill you and the staff is friendly enough to take platinum cards from your blue-blooded asses."

"Have some respect for your elders, Chase. I may not be your favorite uncle, but I'm still your uncle." He suppresses his smile, but I see through him.

"No worries. I have nothing against you, Uncle Walt." I turn to Em. "What did you think of my goal?"

"It was incredible. I was so happy for you. Everyone in the place was so happy. What a thrill to be part of all that positive energy."

"That's one way of looking at it," sister quips, giving the impression she's rolling her eyes on the inside. She takes a swig of her whiskey.

"So tell me about your relationship, Chase. It appears more serious than I'd expected."

"Why? Because I got carried away and had to share my goal with my girl?" I nod. H stiffens next to me, holding her breath as she watches me, waiting for what my answer is. "Hell, I suppose that does make it serious." I turn to her. "Sorry, babe. I know you don't like all that attention. I swear I'll keep the media off you, but it'll be hard now because some asshole reporter found out your name."

"What's the big deal?" My dear clueless sister asks, shrugging. "Just smile and look pretty."

"I suppose you're right,” Em says. “I'm not used to being in the spotlight. It's not exactly my jam. But I'll deal." She turns to me. "Don't worry about me, Chase. I don't go on social media anyway and I'll handle whatever comes up."

I know this is code for shit her so-called family might give her. I don’t know about them. In spite of her denial, it looks to me that they take advantage of her, that she feels like she owes them something or some kind of crap.

When we get home, the house is quiet and I’m more than ready. I help Em take off her old jacket and then slide my arms around her. She’s wearing my new favorite soft red sweater and I let my hands caress her back as I take in the special scent of her.

“You ready for bed?” My voice comes out gravelly, but I study her, unapologetic about my directness.

She smiles, but I see the hesitation in her eyes even in the dim light of the kitchen.

“Don’t over think it, Em.” I shift closer.

“You’re right.” She wraps her arms around my neck and tilts her head up and I kiss her, tasting that familiar sweetness, the soul deep essence of her. Then I sweep her into my arms, lifting her, on a burst of kiss-fueled adrenaline.

She laughs and I carry her upstairs.

“Are you sure you can make it, big boy? You’re such a beast.” She mock whips me, making the sound effects.

I laugh. “Don’t make me laugh or I’ll drop you,” I say as I reach the top of the stairs.

“Shh. You’ll wake Gran,” she says.

“Now you’re calling my grandmother Gran? You insinuating yourself into my family?” I’m grinning as we reach my bedroom door, but her smile fades.