Nick hadn’t really done either in the end. And I hated the time I’d wasted with him, leaving me right back at the starting line after so many years.
“What about you?” I asked. My light tone directly contradicted the loaded nature of the question. Since the moment he appeared at the ball, none of our conversations felt like simple catching up. Our entire interaction was heavy with subtext, weighed down with some unnamed intent. “Anyone back in Florida have stories to tell about you?”
The frown on his face eased, his eyes searching my face as I asked. “Not really.”
“I find that hard to believe.” I nudged him with my foot. “The golden boy of the beach state.”
He snorted. “I don’t…” Emmett paused. “I’ve gone on dates over the years. Rarely more than one or two, though.”
“No Florida girls can put up with your horrible dance moves?”
“Apparently not.” He nudged my foot back. “It’s easy to find someone who’s only interested in me because of my job. Not so easy to find someone who can look past it and have that person be what I’m looking for at the end of the day. Or be worth the distraction.”
Right.
Emmett didn’t—and had never—allowed much in the way of distractions. It was only around his family, the place I met and got to know him, where he was able to relax and be himself.
But that wasn’t where he lived his life. I was strangely glad to hear he hadn’t lived a completely isolated existence because the Emmett I knew was too good, too warm, too thoughtful to always be alone.
Even knowing that, I couldn’t bring myself to ask what he was looking for. What he couldn’t find in those one-to-two date girls.
Because it didn’t matter.
“It is hard to find someone who can look past it,” I agreed. “And I’ve met more than my share of women who only want the man in the uniform.” I laughed softly. “Some of them would pretend I wasn’t there, even if I was standing right next to Nick.”
“That must’ve been tough.”
I shrugged. “Oddly enough, that was one of the easier things to brush off. Not fun,” I conceded, “but of all the things that were going wrong with Nick and me, I never worried that he would stray.”
Emmett gave me a dry look. “Oh, don’t go making me think positively of him.”
I grinned. “What do you have against Nick?”
It was meant as a joke, but Emmett’s eyes couldn’t meet mine for a moment. And my stomach went weightless at whatever unspoken implication was behind that evasion.
I didn’t want weightless stomachs. I couldn’t handle them. And it would do us both good to have that reminder.
“What I said when we were dancing,” I said evenly, “about how I would’ve been sad if you were an athlete?” His jaw clenched, but he didn’t interrupt. “I meant it.”
The words stuck like mud in my throat. Sticky, wet, disgusting mud. And I needed it to be said. Before anything else happened.
Before weightless stomachs and intense deep blue eyes had me promising things I wasn’t ready to promise. Maybe someday I would, but it wasn’t now.
“I learned a lot from dating Nick. About what I’ll tolerate and what I won’t. Maybe I put up with certain things for too long because we were comfortable, and it felt safe. But what I learned, it’ll be the number one thing I bring to any relationship—where I am now, it’s the farthest I’ll ever live from my family. Greer, Cameron, and I promised each other in high school that we’d stay within a half a day of home. That we would have the ability to drop what we were doing and help if my mom or Tim needed us.”