Page 44 of Cerulean Truth (Sapere #1)

“Walker,” Jackson exclaimed enthusiastically, “Did you know this amazing lady would’ve made it as one of America’s foremost lawyers, if we hadn’t intervened?”

“Is that so? I grunted slightly.

Fucking spaz.

Jackson raised his eyebrow at me, silently gesturing, "What's wrong?" My face must have displayed my eighty shades of pissed off.

Then Emma, with her knack for amplifying awkward situations—especially at my expense—chimed in, her tone playful yet cutting. "James, you look positively bothered and exceedingly annoyed. What happened, did you finally hear yourself talk?"

Jackson choked on his champagne and masked his laughter with an unattractive cough. I patted his back with a little more force than necessary.

“What? No comeback?” She continued relentlessly, “Drowned your wit in all that hair gel maybe?”

Okay, so I had a little product in my hair. Sue me. It was a fucking reception; she could hardly expect me to show up looking like a mess. Not like she rolled out of bed in a cocktail dress.

There was a hint of playfulness in her teasing though, almost like flirting...or was I imagining things?

"Why don't you go take a look in the mirror, maybe that'll cheer you up a bit?" she suggested, her grin widening.

"No thank you," I replied quickly, trying to recover from her verbal attacks. "Wouldn't want to make you miss me." Damn, that was a weak comeback.

"Don't worry," she said, smiling wickedly. "I'm fine right here." With a wink, she touched Jackson's arm again . I nearly tore it off . He backed away a bit, understandably so, as I must have been radiating rage at that point.

Emma giggled like an overgrown high school girl and delivered her deathblow.

"Jackson just told me I looked 'bluetiful'," she said, her gaze sharp as she turned to gauge my reaction. “You know? Because of my blue dress…?” she added when I didn’t immediately respond to my now former best friend’s pathetic attempt at a joke.

My blood was ringing in my ears… Godsdamn it, she was absolutely trying to make me jealous. And fucking succeeding. I really didn’t want to give her the satisfaction but my non-jealousy was morphing into full-on rage, and I was about to throw Jackson through a wall.

“If you’re going to hit on my friend, you really should have considered brushing your teeth first,” I retorted, trying to inject some playful flirtation?and failing miserably.

"Well, if you hadn't hogged the bathroom the entire time to do your hair, I might have had the opportunity," she shot back too quickly.

“Weird,” I responded sharply, “as I never knew you to shy away from a man in a bathroom.”

Her expression fell instantly and I realized I had gone too far. Bringing up that night with that guy… I took it too far.

She didn’t respond, maintaining a stony silence. And just like that, it was awkward. Incredibly awkward. I took another sip of champagne, desperate to fill the uncomfortable silence.

Jackson coughed nervously. He obviously had no idea what was happening and honestly, neither did I. I had always been rather good at flirting and bantering with witty comebacks, but with her, I got lost somewhere between desire and anger. And jealousy, apparently.

“So uhm, Emma,” Jackson tried to change the subject, “how come you weren’t found by us until recently?” Emma practically dropped her glass. We both stared at him in shock.

“Okay, I’m sorry, I panicked. You guys are being really weird and gods, do I want to change the subject badly.” He apologized desperately.

Emma chuckled softly, and I joined in. Jackson flashed us a grin before returning with three more glasses of champagne. As he turned away to chat with Philip, I switched my focus to Emma, locking my gaze solely on her face.

“So,” she began, he tone light, “want to help me understand the whole point of this evening?”

"I know it's difficult to understand. The political climate right now is very delicate; we're on the brink of something huge," I explained.

"The Great Exposure," she nodded.

"Yes, indeed. Glad you've heard about it, but it's more complicated than that."

"Why?" she frowned.

I sighed. "I wish I could divulge all the details, but I'm bound by a strict confidentiality—the Council and my position in it complicate matters."

"You mean your position as Leader?" she asked sharply.

My brows shot up in surprise. "You've heard about that?"

She nodded. "Yeah... why didn't you tell me you are to become some sort of president?"

I shrugged. "It's just a job."

She rolled her eyes at me. "I'd prepare a better speech for your inauguration, if I were you."

I snorted. "Noted."

She met my stare through her long eyelashes, and I couldn't tear my eyes away from her.

Our eyes remained locked, and I sensed a shift in her demeanor. The energy between us was charging, becoming tangible and a dark hunger started simmering beneath the surface, tempting me, making it near impossible not to touch her.

Her maddening perfume filled my senses once again, stirring some primal urge within me. Her lips parted, drawing in more oxygen, and I watched as her breaths grew irregular. Her pupils dilated and goosebumps manifested on her arm.

Leaning in, I whispered her name softly near her ear. “Emma…”

She placed her slightly trembling hand on my chest and closed her eyes. The rise and fall of her chest quickened, mirroring the pace of my own heartbeat, and I felt my manhood twitch.

All I wanted to do was get her away from everyone and go somewhere we could be alone.

Swallowing hard, I struggled with the dryness in my throat.

My finger traced down her arm, the touch so light it was barely the ghost of one.

My lips hovered over the tip of her ear and I nearly dropped them a few inches, to press them against her neck.

“James?” I heard someone calling me. I jerked back, seeing Justine standing five feet away from us. And she was glaring.