How to Steal Your Best Friend's Fiancé - London Casey Page 0,67
get all philosophical on me. I’m not happy with you right now.”
Emily took off up the stairs and I followed her.
“Wait… Em…”
“Miss Crabapple takes each day as its own version of life,” Emily said. “I caught her one time trying to walk on her own and I thought she was going to collapse. So I helped her. We’ve been friends ever since. She doesn’t want to be treated like something is wrong. And neither do I.”
Emily opened the rooftop door.
I hurried after her and my hands slipped to her hips and stopped her.
“Em…”
“This gigantic moment happened in your life and you holed up,” she said. “And then I never heard from her either. So what does that mean?”
“That means we both know who she really is,” I said. “We’ve known it for a long time.”
“You wanted to marry her.”
“I don’t think I ever did.”
“Then… why…”
“It was the next step,” I said. “The second I saw you smile, Em… when it was just us… sitting at the counter that night… it was like I stepped off this fucking treadmill.”
She shook her head. “I can’t hear that right now. I don’t think I can be that person.”
“What person?”
Emily looked back at me. “I tell people she’s my best friend. Now what? I’m the woman who…”
Emily stepped out of my reach.
“It wasn’t working for a long time,” I said. “This Boston trip just proved all we both needed to see. I didn’t want it to happen over the phone, but it did. And it’s for the better. The reason why I stayed in my apartment and lied to you…” I looked up to the night’s sky for a breath. “The truth, Em…” I looked at her again. “I was excited and happy. After that phone call, I wanted to find you and kiss you. I wanted to scoop you up off your feet, kiss you like you deserve to be kissed, and then show you how beautiful you are. I can’t get it out of my head the night you told me you think you’re too curvy or not pretty… I’d give up everything in my life just to hear you realize how perfect you are.”
“Liam…”
“It’s fucking insane,” I said. “I know that. I did the right path thing. But what if I want to ride a skateboard, get drunk, end up at a beach somewhere, with you in my arms under the stars?”
“That can’t happen, Liam. You know that.”
“One part of it can. The only part that matters. You, Em, in my arms.”
She stepped toward me and then stopped. “No. Wait.”
She looked ready to cry. “You should go.”
“Okay. Want me to walk you home?”
“I’m fine up here.”
I turned and walked to the door.
I thought about Jackson.
That prick.
He told me to just show up and fuck Emily. He told me the second she opened the door to just grab her and have her.
He was right.
But I didn’t want to just fuck Emily.
I wanted her.
“Liam,” Emily shouted.
I looked back with the door open.
“Everything you said… I want it too,” she said. “Are we really going to blow up our lives like this…?”
“I know my answer to that,” I said. “You can figure out yours. You’re worth the wait, Em.”
I let the door shut behind me.
I took a deep breath.
This slow burn shit was good for the movies, but not for real life.
Then again, both Emily and I knew when we finally did jump into the fire, there was no coming out.
And again… she was worth it all.
Chapter Thirty
Emily
I wrote four versions of a text message to Liam.
And not a single one was sent to him.
The version of me being a good friend to him.
The version of me being a good friend to Miranda.
The version of me being a lover to him.
And the version of me being a horny woman, wanting him to come over, fuck me, and then we could see where our feelings were.
Sleep wasn’t my friend.
Self-soothing didn’t help much.
I couldn’t come because I couldn’t get Liam out my mind.
And if I was going to be in bed, touching myself, thinking of Liam, why not just have him there with me?
At one point, I pictured Miranda and that just dried everything up.
I sat up in bed and shook my head.
What a bitch, right?
She had been the same way throughout college. Yet when she went to law school - with Liam - she would keep in touch with me. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized the friendship was her