Southern Hotshot (North Carolina Highlands #2) - Jessica Peterson Page 0,96

God for that. Thank you for that. Hank, you’re the reason I stayed. If it wasn’t for you, I’m not sure I would’ve survived those first couple of weeks.”

That jaw muscle tics again. “But you still chose him.” Hank scoffs. “Nice guys really do finish last.”

“No, they don’t. Samuel is a nice guy. I just had to dig a little to find him.” I meet Hank’s gaze. “I’m sorry I wasn’t upfront about my feelings for Samuel, and I’m sorry things are such a mess because of it. I just don’t feel the same about you, Hank. You’re a wonderful coworker and even better friend. But that’s as far as my feelings go.”

He dips his head in a slow nod. “Okay then.”

“It’s not okay. I know that. But can we at least agree to try to sort this out together? The three of us?”

Hank hesitates. Takes a breath through his nose. Hesitates some more. His eyes flick above my head. I turn around to see what he’s looking at, but I only glimpse the bar. Lindsey raises her eyebrows, sticking her thumb up. If only she knew how much of a thumbs down this situation is.

“Okay,” Hank says at last.

“Good. Now can I give you a hug?”

He scoffs again, but this one is less angry than the others. “You can always hug me, Emma. No need to ask.”

I don’t need to go up on my tiptoes to hug him the way I do with Samuel. But there’s something weirdly familiar about the way Hank wraps his arms around my waist and holds me against him. His body is warm and solid, and I silently ask the universe to send someone his way. Someone who deserves his unique brand of awesomeness.

I start to pull back at the same moment I hear footsteps behind me. Hank’s eyes flick above my head again. The look in his gaze darkens.

“Hank? Everything okay?”

He looks back at me. A beat of charged silence passes between us.

And then, without warning, Hank ducks his head and kisses me.

“What?” I say against his mouth, freezing. My heart bangs loudly against my breastbone, and my blood rushes cold. The sensation is awful, like what I imagine walking barefoot through the snow would feel like—a chill so deep it burns.

There is no tenderness in this kiss. Just hurt.

I jerk backward, our lips making this terrible smacking noise as I break contact. From the corner of my eye, I see my sister launching off her barstool.

That’s when the voice behind me spits out, “What the fuck?”

Chapter Thirty-One

Samuel

That twist in my center—it’s the knife. The one I thought for sure Emma would plunge into my back the second she got the chance.

Turns out it was my brother who ended up stabbing me.

Emma’s eyes go wide. What is she doing here? She pulls Hank’s arms off her waist and opens her mouth, but he beats her to the punch.

“Now you know how it feels, brother.”

I don’t need to ask Hank what he means by that. I can tell by the hard, mean gleam in his eyes that he did it on purpose.

He wanted me to see him kissing Emma. Because I lied to him. Often, though not without remorse.

But I had my reasons. Good reasons. If he’d only let me explain—

No. This fuckwad is the one who owes me an explanation.

“What are you doing here?” I growl.

Hank’s nostrils flare. “I followed you.”

“What the f—”

“What else was I supposed to do? You’ve been lying constantly to me. You’ve been checked out, mentally anyway, for weeks. When I ask how you’re feeling, you shove me aside like I don’t matter. I was worried.”

“Jealous,” I snap. “You were jealous. Don’t you dare confuse the two.”

I stare him down, rage ballooning inside my body down to my fingertips. His face is bright red.

I ball my hands into fists.

A blonde with Emma’s chin and cheekbones appears at my elbow. “What in the world is going on?”

“I’ll explain everything in a minute, Linds.” Emma turns to Hank, holding the back of her hand to her mouth. “Why’d you do that? Kiss me?”

“Because he wants to hurt me,” I say. “Biggest dick move in the book.”

The blonde gasps. Emma grimaces.

Hank just stares me down, his shoulders starting to tremble as he takes deep breath after deep breath.

I’m trembling too. I’m not used to feeling this way. Like I’m raw inside and out, bare nerve endings breaking through my skin to deliver shock after shock of agony. The depth of the pain

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