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of his body to mine, here in the middle of the empty parking lot. The sound of a car engine passes in the distance, and then it’s silent again, nothing but shadows, and the faint drift of noise and laughter through the tavern windows.
    I stare at him, frozen. Muscle memory, they call it; when you do something so many times, that it becomes automatic, beyond all rational thought. To be so close to him, and not reach out… Hold him… Kiss him. It takes all the self-control I have not to give in to the temptation.
    I can see it in his eyes, Emerson feels it too. And he was never about the self-control.
    Before I can react, he’s closing the distance between us in a few powerful strides. He stops, just inches away, so close, I can feel the heat of his body radiating through his T-shirt.
    Close enough to touch.
    But still, I fight it, desperate. I clench my fingers at my sides to stop myself reaching up and running them through that dark hair of his, to feel the soft scratch of his stubble, trace the outline of his jaw. I always thought, I could draw his face by heart, but now, so close, I want to discover it all over again.
    Emerson stares down at me, his eyes piercing my every defense until I’m sure he can see everything I’m feeling: my whole soul open and waiting for him. His eyes are hot as he reaches out, and slowly traces the line of my jaw.
    I shudder. A shock sparks through me where his hand brushes my face: hot, and wild, it courses like quicksilver through my body—pooling low in my stomach.
    Desire.
    But still, I can’t move. I’m caught in the mesmerizing trap of his gaze, powerless to do anything as Emerson’s fingers slowly traces down my face. His thumb comes to rest on my lower lip, rough against my skin.
    I gasp a ragged breath. Every nerve in my body is lit up, sparkling with need. My world shrinks, contracting to just his eyes, and touch, and the low, deep pull in my stomach.
    I ache for him.
    Emerson leans closer, breath hot against my cheek. I shudder again with the physicality of it, the pure, overwhelming desire. My eyes drift shut, so there’s nothing but feeling—no light, or world outside, just his body pressing closer to mine. A distant part of me is screaming to break away, but I can’t move, I can barely even breathe.
    His lips find my ear. He whispers, rough and low.
    “Well… Almost nothing.”
    I feel a sudden rush of cold air as Emerson steps back away from me. I open my eyes to find him staring at me. His face is harshly set, a cruel smirk of triumph on his lips.
    Triumph!
    I gasp, humiliation crashing through me. This is all a game to him, trying to prove some point. And I fell for it! My cheeks burn, desire falling away as quickly as it came. Instead, it’s replaced with fury.
    “You asshole!” I yell, shoving him away from me.
    Emerson laughs, hard and metallic, like it’s all a big joke.
    Inside, I’m cringing. I can’t imagine how I must have looked to him just now, panting after the smallest touch. Like a desperate little girl, I realize, shameful. Like a total miserable loser.
    “You fucking jerk!” I scream again, trying to block out the humiliation with anger. “Get away from me!”
    Emerson backs off, hands raised in surrender. His expression is mocking, and in the dark, he suddenly looks like a stranger: so harsh and remote.
    I fumble my keys into the Camaro lock. “Just leave me alone,” I yell again, my whole body shaking. The door finally opens, and I slide into the seat. I slam the door and yank the keys in the ignition, sparking the engine to life. I speed away, tires squealing, but as I roar out of the parking lot, I can’t resist one last look back in the rearview mirror.
    Emerson is nowhere to be seen. He didn’t stay to watch me go.
    I force my eyes onto the road again, but I can’t keep the tears back any longer. They spill down my cheeks, hot and anguished. Pain floods my chest, a wretched ache.
    That isn’t the man I fell in love with.
    The