Page 19

19

HEIDI

T he first thing that hits me is the smell of gas, oil, and self-loathing that overwhelms me the second I open the door to the garage. The other thing is the music assaulting my eardrums.

Emmett looks up from under the hood of the car, an eyebrow cocked as he stands, his biceps in his short sleeve shirt a little too distracting for my taste.

“You WOULD be someone who listens to Creed,” I mutter.

“What was that?” he asks as he cleans his hands.

“I was just saying that it’s not shocking that you’d be in your garage, moping while blasting Creed.”

“What’s wrong with Creed?”

“It’s like the epitome of divorced dad rock.”

Emmett’s face twists in confusion. “Never mind,” I wave him off. “I’m here to bombard you.”

The second I got home I had burst into tears, and Mila slapped me.

There’s been a lot of moments in my life where I have felt overwhelmed and emotional. There’s been a lot of moments my friends have been as well, and what do we do when that happens? We go to them. We spend time with them whether they like it or not, and we make them smile. We do our best to make their days better, no matter what.

Whether it be pancakes and dancing, or coming here with beers in hand to hang out and listen to, well, Creed, everyone deserves someone showing up for them.

The problem is, Emmett doesn’t seem to ever tell anyone when he’s feeling like this.

I come to stand in front of him, placing the case of beers on his workbench, right where the empty cup of protein shake sits. Leaning against it, I watch as he cleans his hands on a rag he throws to the side of the car.

“What are you doing here?” he asks.

I tilt my chin up, attempting to look more confident than I actually feel. “We’re friends. Friends are there for each other when they’re down. And you seemed like you needed someone earlier.”

His blue eyes pierce mine, breaking me down in every single way as I struggle to stand. I feel naked.

I sniff, breaking eye contact. “Look,” I start. “I know that I invaded your privacy, and I didn’t mean to. I was curious, and I let it get the best of me. I’m sorry.”

I can’t look him in the eye as I await his response.

“It’s okay,” he says quietly.

“What?”

He shakes his head. “I’m not mad.”

“I just,” my eyes start to water as I think about opening up to him again. He knows my story, but I need him to really understand. “I was thinking about my dad. And how fragile life is. And how I don’t have a lot of photos of him anymore. And I don’t know. I just loved looking at those.”

Emmett licks his lips, placing his hands in his pockets.

“I just wanted you to know that there was no malice in what I did. She was gorgeous, Emmett. And I’m so god damn sorry that you lost her.”

I’m not sure I should have said what I did, but I think it’s important. As Emmett shuts his eyes, squeezing them tight, I have second thoughts.

“Thank you,” he says as he opens them, the glossy blue piercing my heart. “And I’m sorry that it reminded you of your dad.”

I shrug. A lot reminds me of my dad. So much. But they’re all happy memories.

I had a lot of time with him. Just not enough.

“I’m scared of losing people too,” I tell him. “I don’t think you ever really get over the fear once you’ve lost someone for good. You see it in every person you meet. But you have to promise to live for the person you lost. I’m living for my dad. He wouldn’t want me to hate this life. He’d honestly be disappointed if he saw how I’ve been the last few years. He’s always wanted so much for me, and I’ve been wasting my life away.”

Emmett shakes his head. “You’re right. It doesn’t get better. But you also aren’t disappointing him, Heidi. You’re exceptional, and I don’t know how to get you to see that, but I hope that one day we can make it happen.”

I blush, not quite knowing what to say.

“I just want things to be easy,” I whisper.

Instead of answering, Emmett crosses the space, closing in on me, and he grabs my hands. Pulling me in, he envelopes me in a bear hug, his large hand at the base of my skull, pulling me into his large chest.

I won’t lie, I’ve dreamed of resting my head here quite a few times, and I still wasn’t ready for what it felt like.

Because I was right. He did smell even better up close. Like leather and oil mixed with something warm... like vanilla, but not quite.

Guaiac wood, I think as a sob rampage through me suddenly, his shirt instantly dampening. A scent I only know because of the stupid fucking candle I bought years ago on a whim because it made me feel like I was wrapped in the warmest, fluffiest blanket. I immediately regretted it.

But frivolous purchases can still become important, and I burned that candle every single time I had a bad day and wanted to feel some sort of comfort. After awhile, it started to feel like hope and better days and the passing of time, the emergence of new eras of life and the promises that there's something truly wonderful out there if I. Just. Tried. Hard. Enough.

It's a scent that's burned in my brain, a distant memory of another life I lived and lost and now it's here, on a man I don't think will ever have me.

Because we are friends. Maybe even less.

Despite all of our connections, all of our similarities, all of our love we’ve lost and all the love we have to give, there’s nothing between us, and there never will be.

We stand like that for a long time, my arms wrapped around his muscular, firm body, one of his hands cradling my head, the other firmly on my back, pulling me closer as I cry.

Eventually he pulls away, his hand still tangled in the hair at the back of my head.

Pulling my hair just a little, he forces me to look up at him. Despite the action not meaning to be sexual, something stirs deep in my belly.

“Why don’t we go for a ride?” he asks with a small smile.

“A ride in what?” The Subaru? His SUV?

But Emmett gestures behind him. “I just finished fixing it.”