Chapter 7

seven

DID SOMEONE CALL FOR A KNIGHT?

I fucked up last night.

I fucked up so badly, I have no idea how to make it up to Torryn or Baylor. There’s no one else to blame but myself. I was in my head, too distracted to be doing the one thing I promised to do. Keep an eye on Torryn.

It was hard to keep my eyes from searching out Emery’s with every laugh, joke, smile, and cheer. The thing between us pulsing with the erratic beat of my heart and grew stronger with every passing moment I attempted to ignore it. To forget it. To deny it.

My mind spun with the promise I made to myself. To put distance between Emery and I until I could remember she is only ever going to be my best friend’s little sister. It’d become an almost never ending mantra I repeated to myself all day in preparation for seeing her again last night. But the hurt she couldn’t quite hide pierced me even more sharply than my guilt over betraying my best friend.

Conflict I wasn’t prepared to deal with distracted me. Kept me from being on my toes. Tore my mind away from how serious the problem we faced was and it was my call to let Torryn go to the bathroom alone. To let her out of my sight when I knew the danger.

Because I was too consumed by my own thoughts and feelings.

And Torryn was the one who had to pay the price. I don’t know how Baylor hasn’t punched me in the face for my fuck up. Lord knows I deserve it.

I would punch myself.

As if on cue, my phone vibrates in my pocket with a text from Tate, assuring me for the hundredth time it wasn’t my fault Torryn was attacked. It does nothing to ease my guilt, only worsening my mood as I can’t help but wonder if he would still feel the same way if he knew the reason behind my distraction.

There’s nothing I can do to go back and fix it, but I can grab food for everyone since no one has eaten yet today and then pick up the one thing that is sure to bring Tor comfort. Not that I can take credit for the idea.

I take the time to text Tate back so he doesn’t freak out, letting him know I’m at the restaurant. There’s no use in wallowing. Torryn sure as hell won’t be. I’ll offer to let her kick my ass in order to be even.

The last person I expect to see is the very girl haunting my thoughts. On a date. With that same dickweed who was with her when she was dropped off at the house the other night.

The night I let my jealousy get the best of me.

The same way I’m about to let it happen all over again.

My fingers curl into fists as I clench them at my sides. Every part of me wants to do all of the things she accused me and her brothers of doing. Interfere, scare him off, and inevitably embarrass her.

The rational thing would be to walk away, to pick up our food, and act as if I never saw her .

If I’ve proven anything in the last few days is that when it comes to Emery Moore, I’m anything but rational.

The question is how do I play it this time?

I lean against the wall, off to the side, waving off the hostess when she attempts to get my attention to assist me. I’m not ready to be assisted yet. I need to observe first. So far, I’ve never crashed a date where she was actually having a good time. Doesn’t mean it’ll stop me, but it might give me a place to start.

Getting comfortable I watch where Emery sits, pushing her salad around her plate without taking a bite. Her eyes are locked on where she fiddles with her food, never looking up to meet her date’s eyes. That tells me everything I need to know except why the hell she even came?

Her lack of interest in this fuck is so apparent, I’m surprised the entire restaurant isn’t feeling uncomfortable with the waves of unease she’s giving off.

I fucking knew it was strange when Tate said Emery wasn’t coming with us to the hospital. She was in tears last night the entire time after we realized we had lost track of Tor. She’s surely blaming herself as much as I am. Though it’s not her guilt to carry. Only mine.

I watch until I’ve seen enough. Emery barely eats her food, taking only a small bite every few minutes. She barely speaks, mostly nodding noncommittally every so often. Meanwhile, her date doesn’t shut the hell up. I don’t know how she’s surviving. She doesn’t just look bored, she looks mortified to be here.

Shaking my head, I grab a menu and look over it quickly before spotting a panini I know Emery will actually eat and enjoy. I smile at the hostess, aware of the wary look she’s giving me after I’ve been acting like a creep for the last ten minutes or so .

“I’m picking up an order for Isla,” I tell her, flashing a smile I know will lower her guard.

She nods, tapping on her computer before she returns my smile, something flirtatious in it now. “Perfect, it’ll only be a few more minutes.”

“Is it too late to add this turkey panini to it?” I ask, pointing to the one on the menu.

She’s already typing into her computer. “Of course not, as long as you don’t mind waiting a few minutes longer.”

“That’s perfect,” I assure her. My eyes flicker back to Emery’s table to find her pushing her plate away. I point to the table she sits at while her date pushes his chair back from the table and heads presumably to the restroom. The timing couldn’t be better if I was writing it myself. “Could you do me a favor as well?” I ask.

Her earlier suspicion returns. Damn. This girl is too smart to fall for an easy smile. I push forward, careful of how I word it. “I spotted my friend over there.” I point to where Emery now sits alone, tapping away on her phone. I pull out my credit card and hand it over. “Could you add her tab to my check?”

Her suspicion fades. “That’s sweet. Of course.” She rings me up and hands me back my card, the whole thing barely taking two minutes. I thank her and nod over to Emery and the hostess tells me she will call when my order is ready.

Making my way toward the table, I look around and there’s still no sign of the dickweed.

Emery still hasn’t caught sight of me, but I wouldn’t be surprised if she was calling in for a fake emergency with the way she’s typing away on her phone.

I pull up at a seat from the table next to her and situate it right next to her so my body brushes against hers when I sit down. She startles, her phone falling to the table with a clatter as it hits the side of her nearly full plate. Her free hand flies to her chest as she glares at me, hissing out my name between her teeth. “Xander! What are you doing here?”

Anger flares in her wide eyes but I tsk before she has a chance to ream me. “Can you really call it crashing your date when you’re so obviously in need of a rescue?”