EMMA

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

The little wall clock Nadine gave to me is the only sound in my condo, mocking me with each moment that passes.

It's not like I stopped everything to wait for his call, I lie internally, eyeing the basket of laundry, still unfolded at my feet. The TV is off, I didn't turn on music as I normally would, and the book I tried to start last night lies discarded on the ottoman. My eyes flicker to the clock again, each minute taking an hour to pass, and yet, somehow still pushing forward.

Another sixty seconds go by and my hope fades - a moron would've given up hope after the hour and a half mark, but here I am, cell phone clutched in hand, expecting it to vibrate to life at any moment.

Concern ebbs at the corner of my mind: I'm not sure there will ever be a day when at least some part of me is not worried for Beau Lewis. And yet, my eyes flash to the hands crawling around the clock, I'm also wildly disappointed.

In him, and in me.

Picking up my cell, I dial Gemma's number, knowing deep down that waiting won't make him call.

"Hey Emmie baby," Gemma's voice is softer than normal. "How'd it go?"

I flinch, cursing myself for admitting I would be confronting Beau tonight. It had been a moment of weakness - a tipsy thought shared in front of the bathroom mirror at the club. I'd learned long ago that I shouldn't reveal when things are bad with Beau - at least not until I've already made them better.

It doesn't paint Beau in the best light - and deep down, I still really want Gem and Nadine to like him.

Feigning nonchalance, I sigh, "He didn't call. It's been," I check the clock as if I haven't been counting the minutes, "Over an hour and nothing. Do you want to go out tonight?"

That would be the second night in a row - very unlike me. I glare at the emptiness of my condo, knowing staying at the lake house wouldn't have been any better. Without him here, it feels lonely. Just like my apartment had before.

"Oh, Emma." Gemma sounds sad but I ignore it, refusing to perseverate on the hurt lying just under the surface.

"Same place as last night?" I ask, already in my bedroom, scouring my closet for an outfit to wear.

"Meet you there in an hour,"

We hang up and I pull my outfit on quickly - a simple band tank top that Beau let me borrow, tucked into ripped jeans. I wrap my arms around my torso, tugging the fabric tightly over my skin, inhaling the last bit of Beau's smell. Staring at myself in the mirror, I suddenly lose grasp of the focus I'd been trying so hard to maintain. Tears well in my eyes as I take in my reflection and wonder if Beau and I will ever really work.

Sniffling, I continue getting ready, pulling my blonde strands into a bun atop my head, and suddenly remember the shaved buzz cut Rey wore so well. I recall her tattoos and the hoop in her nose, the sway of her hips when she walks. Her voice when she sings, the way she and Beau seem to understand each other so well... The way she looks at him.

I begin to wonder if maybe I'm just not... enough. For someone, someday, sure. But am I the one Beau needs?

I close my eyes to block my tears and slip on my black converse, wrapping the laces around my ankles tightly.

Checking my phone, I notice humorlessly how little time has passed, and decide to get to the bar early, sick of the silence.

"Another, please." I nod at the bartender, a larger guy with a spike through his eyebrow, and stare at the bottom of my empty shot glass. The loud chatter around me combines with the music to drown out my thoughts.

I take the next round immediately, crinkling my nose in disgust as the tequila burns it's way down my throat. Somehow, it's even fouler tasting without Beau enjoying it with me. It was only the way he looked at me - like I surprised him by finally taking the shot - that made it sweeter.

This is one thing I don't mind giving up to be with him, I think, while downing the third shot anyways.

"Drowning your sorrows?" Adam's voice is beside me then, shocking me to reality.

"Oh," I meet his wide smile with a pathetic one of my own. "It works for some people," I shrug, patting the bar stool beside me.

"And for you?" He takes the stool and removes a baseball cap, ordering a beer for himself and Connor, and a margarita for Gemma. "They'll be here soon, I just got off the phone with Connor."

I shake my head, "No such luck for me." While the tequila made my belly feel sloshy and the room around me start to blur slightly, it did nothing to numb the sharp pain in my core.

My brows furrow as I wonder if it ever really helped Beau, either. Suddenly, even though I'm angry with him, my heart hurts for him.

"Well, maybe some good friends can get your mind off of things." Adam nudges me with his elbow as Connor and Gemma arrive. I plaster a pretend smile on my face before I stand to greet them.

"You okay?" Gemma whispers into my hair as she hugs me.

I nod and quickly change the subject, running my fingers through her hair. "Sticking to blonde then?"

She blushes and I almost fall off my stool. Gemma never blushes.

"Connor really likes it," She giggles but immediately stops herself. I kick myself internally - she shouldn't hide her happiness just because I'm going through some things.

The evening passes slowly - I laugh at the right times and even make a few jokes of my own, but part of my mind is still waiting for Beau to call. Part of me is here - enjoying the mozzarella sticks and the stories of Adam and Connor at summer camp - and the other part is wherever Beau is.

Is this how it will always be? Living in parts - never fully being present because I'm always thinking of someone far away, in more ways than just the physical?

"Let's dance!" Gemma literally pulls me back to the bar, tugging my arm to get me to my feet, and I can't help but give in.

Taking her tiny hand in mine, I follow her to the dance floor, oddly busy for a week night. A few minutes in, Connor arrives with a drink for each of us, but he doesn't stay. I suspect Gemma told him I needed some girl time. I make a mental note to thank her for, well, a lifetime of having my back.

Whatever Connor ordered is strong - strong enough to make me wobbly on my feet as more bodies press onto the tiny dance floor. The lights dim and the bass is turned up, shaking the floor beneath our feet. I'm not sure how long we dance for, but soon my neck is slick with sweat and my throat is dry.

"I'm going to grab another drink," I tell Gemma, knowing what I really need is water. "Any requests?" I decide to have whatever she's having - no questions asked.

"Mmm," She rolls her head back to me, cheeks flushed as she sways to the music. "A Sex On The Beach would be divine,"

I smile, liking the sound of that myself. As I wait at the bar for the man to mix our drinks, I feel a body close beside mine.

I turn slowly, expecting to see Adam. Instead, a tall man with stringy dark hair leers down at me, making no attempt to hide his oogling.

Oh, how I wish it had been Adam.

"Can I help you?" I snap, hoping my face is as unapproachable as I feel. I almost wish he'd say something, give me a reason to explode the way I've been holding in all night.

His grin widens, "I'm sure you can, baby."

The drinks are ready. Finally, I take them wordlessly and walk away, willing myself not to turn back and smack the man upside the head. He's not worth it.

"I'm going to get some air," I tell Gemma anyways. She doesn't mind - too wrapped up in Connor dancing behind her now to notice my absence.

I push past sweaty bodies until I'm through the side exit. Leaning against the brick wall, I chug my Sex On The Beach in only a few sips, grateful for the refreshing taste on my tongue and the coolness on my throat. Instantly, my head feels heavier and my limbs less manageable.

Without really realizing, I sink to the ground and hug my knees to my chest. The door squeals open and my head snaps up at the sound, worried that the creep may have followed me outside.

"Adam," I breathe a sigh of relief. "It's you."

"Expecting someone else?" He chuckles, sitting beside me without bothering to ask why. He must find me strange, always off on my own, I realize.

We sit in silence for a couple of minutes: him leaning against the wall, and me, holding my head in my hands. The alcohol has caught up to me now, making things unfocused and slower in my brain.

"You okay, Emma? I saw that stuff online and..." His forehead crinkles in concentration. Finally, he just shakes his head, as if in disgust. But not disgust with me. "Well. Are you okay?"

I look to Adam's face and find no judgement. His chocolate eyes are so kind, so ready to listen to whatever I have to say. His full lips turn down in a frown and I don't like it.

His smile is so happy. He should always smile.

"Adam," I mumble, still leaning on my hands and barely audible.

"Yeah?"

I let out another sigh. "I don't know,"

I turn to face him, feeling my cheeks burning red in embarrassment. It's not often that I'm drunk and incoherent. Still, the statement stands - I don't feel like I know anything anymore.

"I know," He offers a half smile. "That's okay, too, you know."

Tears well in my eyes as I take in his smile. I struggle to find words to express my gratitude, but settle on resting my hand atop his. He leans back against the wall and sits with me, wordless for the time being. I lean back too, closing my eyes to stop the trees from swaying side to side along the road in front of us.

Tired and drunk, my mind quickly wanders in a million directions. Wouldn't it be so easy, if I were to be with someone like Adam? Someone like Nadine and Gemma wanted me to be with? Years ago, Nadine had said I deserved someone uncomplicated.

Well Adam isn't complicated. There would be no press, no publicity. No painful history.

My eyes flicker to his lips right as he turns to face me again, ready to speak.

Meeting my eyes, Adam stops mid-sentence and just stares. I notice him look down to my mouth and back to my eyes again and for just a second, I wonder what it would feel like to kiss him.

Immediately, I'm filled with shame.

No, I don't want to kiss Adam.

I turn my head away slowly, trying to focus on the warm glow of the streetlights in front of us.

There's only one person I'd like to kiss tonight, the same person who's haunted my dreams from the very first kiss. Admittedly, even when I was with Riley. While I might wish the situation were different, I'd never wish for anyone else in Beau's place.

I cross my legs in front of me, wondering if that will really be enough.

Thanks for reading loves ❤️
Things are picking up soon, I promise! Let me know what you think - Why oh WHY did Beau stand up Emma for their phone call?