A Kaleidoscope of Butterflies - Christina Lee Page 0,55
the strands of her shoulder-length hair that was a shade lighter than his. “It’s a lot to take in, and I’m sorry you’re caught up in my decision. I don’t want Rhys to feel guilty for anything he can’t control, and I wish you hadn’t walked in when you did.” He took a deep breath, trying to sound more like the wiser adult he was supposed to be. “Thing is, hard decisions are part of life, and in this case, I’m asking you to let it go or at least give it more time. It’s not your stuff to share, Audrey.”
She swiped at her eyes and drew back to look at Emerson. “I think I sort of understand what you mean.”
“Yeah?” Emerson wasn’t prepared for such an easy acquiescence.
She bit her lip, subtly leaning forward. “There’s this boy I’m friends with.”
She’d recently begun talking about a kid at school that she was paired with for an art project. The way her eyes lit up, Emerson wondered if she had a crush, but inquiring about it even a little bit would’ve gotten him shut out in an instant. But now that she’d opened the door, maybe they could have a decent conversation.
He arched an eyebrow. “Kevin?”
She was more willing to discuss the birds-and-bees stuff—God, he sounded like his mom now—with Aunt Janice, and don’t even get him started on menstruation and any number of things he was woefully inept at sorting through. He was ever grateful he could count on his aunt for help. “Just you wait,” she’d said to him, and he believed her.
“Yeah.” Audrey blushed profusely. “I…well, I sort of like him.”
Emerson tried like hell to keep his lips in a neat, straight line. He did not want to blow it. “Ah, okay. So…”
“So, I get where you’re coming from. Like, if I told Kevin I liked him and he didn’t like me back, it would be so awkward.” Her blush deepened. “And then it might change things.”
“Like your friendship?” he asked, and she nodded. He felt relief that she seemed to understand the crux of the problem.
A worry line appeared between her brows. “Except, how will you ever know?”
“It’s definitely hard to read the signs.”
“And what if you end up being wrong?”
“Exactly why matters of the heart are so tricky.”
“Maddy said sometimes you just have to go for it,” Audrey said. Maddy was one of her friends, who was always talking about one boy or another. At least that was what he noticed when he sneaked a peek at her texts. Aunt Janice said it was a safety measure parents needed to take, but he still felt guilty about it.
“You’ll have to let me know how it goes,” he replied with a smile, hoping this was the start of something new for them. Maybe she’d actually confide in him more. Wishful thinking.
“I’m sorry I got mad.” She averted her gaze. “But I still think when it comes to Rhys—”
“That he’s been through a lot?” Emerson countered. “So he really needs our support right now? There will be time for other decisions later.”
She huffed out an impatient breath. “Are you going to see Neil again?”
“Well, I see him every day at work, silly.” Which was a whole other tricky thing. He playfully knocked her shoulder. “But he did ask if I wanted to catch the next game with him too, so we’ll see.”
“I better go before the bell rings.” Conversation over, she slid from the car and was engulfed by a group of friends, led by Maddy, who whispered furtively in her ear.
Emerson couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief as he pulled into traffic and drove straight to work. He had a busy day of Excel reports and phone calls ahead of him, which meant he didn’t really have an opportunity to talk to Neil. The one time he passed him in the hall on the way to the break room, they smiled and high-fived about the game.
He was glad Neil was acting normal because even though the evening was fun, there was one awkward moment when Neil asked about Rhys and pointed out how handsome he was. It made Emerson feel possessive of Rhys, which was just ridiculous. But Neil also seemed to have a question in his eyes as he asked about their friendship, and maybe it was because he saw the tension radiating off Emerson as he ushered them quickly out the door.
Had Emerson not still been getting over that kiss—Christ, why the hell