Taming Johnny (14 page)

Pulling her hand away, she sat up and cleared her throat. “Nigel. This isn’t a good idea. It was great seeing you again, but I think I’d better go.”

He looked at her solemnly and then smiled. Nigel had always been confident enough for the both of them. “Okay. I’ll take you home. But just remember that I think you’re too good for him.”

What he wasn’t saying was loud and clear. “But you don’t think I’m too good for you,” Emma said.

He pulled in a breath. Suddenly the restaurant seemed too quiet. “I think we were right together. And I think maybe you forgot how right. I’d like to show you again someday, if you’d let me.”

“How? From Africa? You live there. I live here.”

“But you could still come over if you wanted to. I know how much you’d love it. How great you’d be with those kids.”

Emma shifted. They’d been over this before. But in letters. Over the phone. Never over a candlelit dinner with him looking so good. Smelling so good. And saying such sweet things that her battered heart was desperate to hear. She shook her head adamantly, as if to clear it of all bad judgment.

“I told you before, Nigel. I want to make my own way. And…” She swallowed again, summoning courage the old Emma had lacked. “I don’t love you. I mean, I
do
love you. As a friend, but not like that. Going there would be a mistake. You have to know that.”

“No, I don’t know that. And neither do you. All I know is that The Peace Corps was all you talked about when we were kids. You wanted to help people.”

“I did. I
do
. But it’s not that simple. We’re not kids anymore. Things change, Nigel. And people change with them.”

He leaned back, away from the candlelight. Shadows engulfed his face, making him look darker and more mysterious than before. “It’s him, isn’t it?”

“What? No, of course not.”

“You don’t want to leave him.”

She glared at him. He’d hit a nerve. If they had been having this same conversation a few months ago, would she have felt the same way? Would she have been tempted to go?

“You were so set on changing the world, Em. One challenge at a time.” Shaking his head, he reached for his wine. “What are you doing now? Working as a secretary in our hometown?” He took a sip and watched her over the rim of the glass. When he put it down, he ran his tongue over his lips, wetting them. “You could be
so
much more.”

She raised her chin, but felt shame wash over her just the same. She’d wondered so many times why she hadn’t really gone to Africa. She hadn’t loved Nigel, that was true. And she’d wanted to decide for herself what direction her life took. That was also true. But was it because she was also scared to go? And now this situation with Johnny. She had gotten wrapped up in a guy who she knew deep down would never commit.
Why?
Was she trying to sabotage her own future? She felt like meek Emma all over again. Letting other people, other circumstances, decide her fate. She tossed her hair over her shoulder and downed the rest of her wine in one gulp.

“Maybe I will go to Africa,” she said, setting the glass back down. “Maybe I will. But not because I was pushed into it by you. And as for…what’s his face…he can kiss my rear end. You’re right. I can do better.” She snatched up her purse, nearly falling over.
No. More. Wine.

“Okay. Okay, calm down.” Nigel dug a wad of cash out of his wallet and put it on the table. He got up and offered her his arm. “I just want what’s best for you. You know that.”

All at once, Emma felt deflated. And tired. Nigel was a good guy. She didn’t doubt he wanted to see her happy. But she had to figure out what happy was first. She smiled wearily and wrapped her arm in his, letting him walk her out the door.

* * * *

Johnny sat in his truck at the end of Emma’s street, not knowing what the hell he was doing there, but not knowing how to turn around and go home either. The husky motor rumbled softly into the summer night, the air conditioning blowing against his skin. He was still in his running clothes, still sweaty, and a little out of breath. He wasn’t thinking clearly. He knew that. He wanted so many things. Wanted to take her in his arms and never let her go. Wanted to yell at her, demand to know how she’d taken control of him like she had. Wanted to tell her she was beautiful, that he wanted to stay the night and every night after this one. Wanted to lock her in her apartment, keep her safe from all the things that could hurt her. Including himself.

He was at a breaking point. A crazy man who was crawling out of his skin. He didn’t feel in control of anything anymore. And control was the most important thing in his life. Up until this point. Now he wasn’t sure what was important anymore. Maintaining this charade of an existence? Pushing away everyone he cared about, just so there wouldn’t be any more pain?

Leaning his head back against the rest, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Just what would he do when he saw her? What would he say? Anything worth saying, or was he too chicken shit and stupid to say anything at all?

He saw the flash of headlights through his closed lids and opened his eyes to focus on the vehicle down the street. The battered blue Jeep from the night before. It pulled up in front of Emma’s apartment and idled for a minute before she got out the passenger’s side. Johnny did a double take at the sight of her. The long blonde hair, the lovely rounded figure, the stubborn tilt of her chin. He’d started falling for this woman the second she’d stepped foot inside the PD. Seeing her now had no less effect on him than it had on that very first day. But this time he had so much more to lose.

They were far enough away that he was sure his dark truck in the distance blended well into the night. But he could see them perfectly. His eyes were sharp, good at seeing things others might miss.

So when Nigel got out and came around to take her in his arms and pull her close, Johnny didn’t have to see the exact look on her face to know what was there. She went willingly enough, her body molding into his with ease. Maybe even eagerness. And when he bent his head to hers, Johnny very slowly put the truck into reverse and backed quietly away from the curb. It was better this way, he told himself. She’d be better off with someone like him.

Chapter 14

After a second, Emma turned her head, dropping her hands to Nigel’s forearms and pushing with a strength she didn’t know she had until now.

“No,” she panted. And then with more finality, “
No
, Nigel.”

He stopped immediately, but she could see the disappointment on his face. His brows were furrowed, his lips set in a frown. “Okay. I’m sorry.”

Emma shook her head, feeling maybe for the first time, how much time had passed between them. How different they really were. And knowing how nothing with Nigel would work. Now, or ever. She loved another. And even though he didn’t love her back, she had to get her head on straight again. She had to figure out where to go from here.

“Don’t be,” she said. “You’re a great guy, Nigel. I’ll always love you as a friend. But what you said was right. I do have a thing for this guy. And I need to deal with that. It wouldn’t be fair to lead you on. I need to get right again.” She looked up at him, swaying a little, and with genuine affection in her heart. He would always be her first. Nothing would change that. But in the last few weeks she’d learned what
really
falling for someone felt like. And she wanted that. She wanted it more than anything. If it couldn’t be with Johnny Street, she’d just have to get over him and move on. Try to find it with someone else. It wouldn’t be easy. But she’d do it. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Nigel rubbed her bare arms. “I just want what’s best for you, Emma. If it’s not me, then I want you to be with someone who appreciates how great you are.” His eyes were as dark as the summer evening they were standing in. They were kind eyes. And it felt nice to see how she looked in them. “Promise me that, okay?”

Emma smiled and stood on her tiptoes, kissing his stubbly cheek. He smelled good. Familiar. She hoped they’d always be friends. And maybe when she got her crap together again, she’d visit him in Africa. On
her
terms.

“I promise,” she said, then turned and walked away.

* * * *

Work.

Emma blinked up at the ceiling, ignoring the cheerful rays of sunlight which were making their way through the cracks in her curtains. Turns out the sun didn’t care if you had a broken heart or not. It rose and set anyway, living by its own rules and saying
screw off
to everything else.

She rolled over and put her face into the crook of her arm. She’d been awake all night, going back and forth. Go to Johnny and make him talk to her. Force him to give a relationship a chance.
Or
, the current, and most inviting scenario, which was to never speak to him again outside of work and try to go on about her life like he had never changed it.

She groaned and squeezed her eyes shut. They were puffy and hot from crying and lack of sleep. Her ‘leave him in the dust’ plan was gonna go quickly to shit if she showed up looking terrible. She had to make him regret his decision, right? That meant getting up, picking a killer outfit, showering, and curling her hair. She just didn’t know if she had the energy for revenge hair right now. Or revenge outfit for that matter. What she’d really like to do was curl up in front of the TV, put on the ridiculous Snuggie her mother had gotten her for Christmas, and eat a pint of Haagen-Dazs.

Sighing, she sat up and rubbed her eyes. It was crazy how much this hurt. Abnormal, really. This kind of pain should be reserved for divorces and funerals. Not break ups that weren’t really break ups because the guy didn’t even care enough to want to be your boyfriend in the first place. And she guessed that’s what hurt the most. Sure, there was the sappy romance movie chance in hell that he could care for her, but just be too damaged to take a chance. In that case, she should fight for him. Any Lifetime actress would. You’d never see Jaclyn Smith turning her back on a chance at love.

But deep, deep down, there was the chunky, insecure Emma who was too afraid that he didn’t really care. That she’d make a fool of herself trying to fight for him, and in that case,
she’d
end up being the damaged one who’d never fully recover. She hated herself for being so weak.

No, that wasn’t entirely true. She’d had the presence of mind to push Nigel away. As attracted as she was to him, he would have been a disaster. So, at least there’d been that. But when it came to Johnny, she was reduced to this. A puffy-eyed, exhausted, emotional wreck, who’d like to chow down on a bucket of ice cream before noon.

Disgusted with herself, she threw the covers off and climbed out of bed. Work was waiting. And so was Johnny.

* * * *

He’d been staring at the computer screen for the last forty-five minutes. It was useless. He couldn’t concentrate on a goddamn thing.

Emma had walked through the door right on time, looking gorgeous, if a little tired. She’d given him a polite smile, but that was it. She headed stiffly to her desk and sat down without so much as another look, effectively shutting him out altogether. Which, of course, was what he deserved.

Pushing away from his desk, he laced his hands behind his head and looked over at the bookcase where the picture of he, Jake, and Eli sat. Six years. Six fucking years, and he’d only managed to get worse. Was this what his life was coming to? He knew the answer to that already. He hated himself. Absolutely hated himself for what he’d done to Emma. But he didn’t know how to let her in. That would violate every single rule he’d made for himself in the interest of self-preservation. He didn’t have to be a psychologist to figure it out. He knew how he was. And he knew why. But it wasn’t enough to know. The whole thing was creating a fissure inside him that, left to grow, would eventually break him in half. He knew this, just as sure as he knew he was powerless to stop it.

Rubbing his chin, he looked back at his computer. The words were blurry, as usual. He opened the drawer to his right and got out the glasses he never wore.

Suddenly, he was tired of going without the things he really needed.

* * * *

Emma pulled her turtleneck up and tucked her chin underneath, a comforting childhood habit. Sally sat across from her, sipping her mocha and reading the morning paper. The coffee shop was quiet, filled with the soft murmur of the patrons around them. Emma turned and looked out the rain spattered window. Fall had pushed summer aside, like a girl who craves all the attention. The trees were turning and the Texas air was damp and cold.

Sighing, she tried to remember why she’d come in the first place. Oh, yeah. Sally had insisted she get out of her apartment and back into the land of the living. The only problem was that she didn’t feel like it. What she really wanted to do was go home, curl up on the couch, and mope some more.

Her friend looked up from the paper and raised her brows in a very motherly
knock it off, we’re here to enjoy ourselves
kind of way. “Want the entertainment section?” she asked sweetly. “There’s a review in here for Bradley Cooper’s new movie. Yum.”

Emma shook her head and looked back out the window. “No thanks.”

Sally folded the paper and put it down. Emma could feel her staring. “Emma.”

“Hmm?”

“Emma, will you look at me?”

Turning, she braced herself for what was to come. Another lecture about getting over him, he wasn’t worth it, blah, blah, blah. “Yeah?”

“How long is this gonna go on, honey?”

“How long is what going to go on?”

“
This
. This sad routine.”

Emma shrugged. “I’m not sad.”
Lie.

“Depressed?”

“Maybe a little.”

“What’s going to change things for you? It’s been over two months, sweetie.”

Emma could tell Sally was in full intervention mode. Her terms of endearments were at an all-time high.

“I’m fine. Really. It’s just going to take some more time. It’s hard seeing him every day, that’s all.” That was the understatement of the century. Seeing Johnny at work was like pouring salt into a gaping wound. She was dealing as best she could, but it wasn’t easy. And to make things infinitely worse, he wasn’t being himself at all. He was polite, kind, considerate. It was as if his rough edges had been softened somehow. Like he had peeled off a layer of bitterness, and underneath was new, pink skin. And she wasn’t the only one who’d noticed. Everyone had.