Eddie wanted to keep Emily in his arms forever. She felt right there, like she belonged. Like she was meant to be his.
Which was exactly why Eddie stepped back. Emily was still in his t-shirt. Her clothes had been moved to the bed, but nothing was missing from the pile he’d painstakingly created the night before. Picking up her skinny jeans and deep purple sweater hadn’t been that difficult, but when he pressed the clothes to his nose he’d filled himself with the scent of her, soft and sweet and perfect. The tank top she’d been wearing under the sweater showed off her peaked nipples when she’d stripped the other clothes. And when that was gone and she stood before him in her matching purple thong and push-up bra Eddie stopped breathing.
Then those garments hit the floor and she stepped toward him.
Eddie pushed the thoughts away as he backed out of the room again. “Get dressed and come have breakfast,” he grumbled on his way out the door.
He knew he was acting like an ass, but he couldn’t help it. She wasn’t his and she never would be, and that made him a grouchy asshole. He knew it. He’d known it for a long time. Eddie got close enough to Emily to know exactly how much he loved her, then stepped back whenever Nick showed up.
Eddie’s best friend.
Emily’s boyfriend.
The man who never deserved her.
The man who always had her.
But all that changed on New Year’s Eve. Eddie knew Nick would screw it up eventually. Nick wasn’t good enough for Emily, even though he’d thought the opposite. Nick had told Eddie more times than he could count that Emily wasn’t enough of a tiger in bed for him. That he was just biding his time with her until someone who could really get him going showed up. Eddie told him to let Emily go, but Nick would just laugh. He wasn’t willing to step back and let someone else have her unless he was done with her.
And apparently he was done.
But Emily was crushed. She’d started drinking. Eddie watched her closely. He hated seeing her upset. He wanted to do something for her, tell her how perfect she was, but when he finally managed to say the words she was too drunk to even notice.
Eddie knew she wouldn’t remember what he’d said. The way he’d held her on the dance floor and kissed her gently, tipping her lips up to his. Softly meeting her lips and feeling like his heart was going to burst out of his chest. She wouldn’t remember her telling him she deserved better than Nick when she’d admitted he’d broken up with her. She wouldn’t remember her asking him to make her forget him, make her feel better.
Which also meant she wouldn’t remember him refusing once he realized how drunk she was. Telling her he would only make love to her when she could remember every swipe of his tongue on her flesh, every brush of his fingers across her body, every thrust of his body into hers. And she wouldn’t remember the way she gasped and her eyes dilated as his words turned her on.
But Eddie was fairly certain all the things she would never remember, he would never forget.