My Best Friend's Ex (Edited)

Part 37 (edited)

"No." I take a step back. "It falls under being a decent adult. Remember that conversation we had? Oh, and do you know what else falls under being a decent adult?" I cross my arms over my chest. Of course, that draws Colby's attention back to that area. Good grief, his eyes feel like laser beams heating me up from my toes to my ponytail.

Another step, so now he's only a foot away. "What else falls under being a decent adult?"

Not letting his eyes, smirk, or handsome personal-bubble-breaking self affect me, I poke him in the chest, hard. "Allowing someone to apologize even if you don't want to hear it. I get it, no talking about Sadie, noted. But at least let me apologize for being a shitty friend when you needed someone by your side the most."

"Emma—" "No. You listen here, mister." I try to stand taller but I'm no match for his towering height. "I'm saying I'm sorry and you will accept that apology or I'll . . ."

Errr . . .

What will I do? Kick him in the crotch? Give him a noogie? Purple Nurple to the rescue?

Although they're all viable options I'm not afraid to do, I don't think they'll get the point across.

Leaving no space between us now, he presses his hands on my hips and with his lowered voice, he asks, "Or you'll what?" His breath mixes with mine, the smell of my makeup wipes fills the space between us, and the firm grip he has on my hips is weakening me second by second.

Why is he so touchy? And why the hell do I like it so much?

AND why do I want him to touch me in other places?

Shit, this is your friend, your best friend's ex. Focus!

"Or I'll . . ." I look around and finally say, "Move out. Yeah, I'll move out, leaving you without a tenant. Say goodbye to two dollars a month." Crap, I wish I paid him normal rent right about now.

He bites his bottom lip, holding back a smile, and presses me into his body. Okay, I'm not an expert on friendship or anything, but this hold right here, with the way he's looking down at me, like he's about to gobble me up, I don't think this is how friends act. Although, I might be old school. Who knows with my generation? We're always switching up everything. Who knew you could eat chili from a Fritos bag by just dumping it in there? Millennials knew, that's who.

But seriously, why does he look like he's about to kiss me?

Ah, is he going to kiss me?

He can't kiss me, that has to be against the rules, right? It's against girl code at least, that's for damn sure.

"You'd move out if I don't let you apologize?" he whispers in what I can only say is a gravelly voice. I nod, my throat starting to clamp shut. "Well, I can't be losing out on rent." With another smirk, he nods at me. "Go ahead, babe, apologize."

Is this some sort of trick? I don't understand. Is something going to pop out of me if I apologize? Is this a hidden camera show? Punk'd for regular people? Instead of apologizing, I really want to ask him why he's holding me tightly, and why he's casually licking his lips like I'm his second supper, and why for the love of all pheromones does he smell so freaking good?

"Uh," I clear my throat and try to get my brain to formulate some kind of coherent sentence. "Thank you for this opportunity." Thank you? You're thanking him right now? No, don't thank him, you idiot, he didn't just present you with a royal scepter and make you queen of the night. He said you could apologize. Gathering my wits, well, what's left of them, I try to recall how to form words. "On this day, this wintery day . . ." Why am I making this a speech?

Wait, is he . . . oh my God, he's making small circles with his thumbs on my skin and wait a second . . . Yup, the results are in! This is not happening. I am not becoming aroused by Colby. No. Way. Not me. Not Emma Marks. Not turned on . . . oh shit, that feels so good. It's been way too long . . .

"On this wintery day . . ." he presses, as his hands move up my sides. I swear to the cheese on my pizza last night, if he touches my boobs, there will be no stopping the feral howls that escape my lips.

Just finish your damn apology and get out of this little touch-and-feel play-by-play you're having with Colby Brock.