Emily coughs through a choke.
“Don’t judge,” I say.
“I’m not,” she whispers.
“You are, and the worst type of people are the ones who judge and don’t think they do. If you want to judge us, do it, but at least own your opinion.”
I expect her to digress into meek and keep her head down because I told her off. Sure as hell shocks me when she narrows her eyes and spits out, “Fine. This place is disgusting and it’s a slap in the face to women everywhere. So which one are you going to do? Judge me in silence or own your opinion?”
A chuckle rumbles out of my throat and I’m drawn in by the mysterious smile forming on her face.
“You’re crazy,” I say.
She giggles and, screw me, I like the sound. Emily hops up on a stool and props her elbows on the bar. “You wear the crazy crown. For real, who carries a knife and, seriously? Who walks in with a bra on and is okay leaving without one? Those things are expensive.”
“What do you know about money? Your dad’s a doctor, right?”
“He is,” she says in slow, methodical way. “But how do you know that?”
I shrug. “Eli talks about you.”
She’s silent. Too pensive for someone her age. I can practically hear her brain ticking, which causes me to be more curious about Emily. I like girls with brains and I like girls who don’t mind using them.
“What else do you know about me?” she asks.
This is where Eli drew the line. “I know you live in Florida. I know Eli visits you once a year. I also know that Olivia almost canceled her doctor’s appointment today so she could hang with you.”
Her shoulders hunch over at the mention of Olivia. I should let it go, but I can’t. “Spend time with her tonight and not in your room hiding or staying silent in the corner. Play cards. Can’t have too much of a conversation when you’re trying to hustle each other.”
Emily’s mouth moves to the side like she’s considering what I said, which I admire. It means she listens and I’ve not met many girls who hear what anyone else has to say. They prefer to listen to themselves talk.
“I can do that,” Emily eventually says, “but what about the other stuff? That photo of me and Olivia...she said that Mom and I lived here for a while. What do you know about that?”
More than her, but not as much as others. “You know we’re the same age, right?”
Her eyebrows furrow together. “You’re seventeen?”
“Eighteen. I’m a year older, but the whole point is, we were sharing a crib. I know as much as you do.” It’s a lie buried in the truth, but that true lie will make me a prospect.
“Were we really sharing a crib?”
Mom has a picture of me, Chevy, Violet, Razor and Emily in Reign of Terror shirts hanging out in a Pack ’n Play that was set up in this very bar. “I was proving a point.”
“Do you know what Honeysuckle Ridge is?”
My eyes dart to hers. I do. But she shouldn’t. It’s family property ten miles up in the hills. Can be difficult as hell to reach and the reason it’s a secret is because it’s the hideout in case everything goes to shit. “No.”
She digs into the skirt, produces a piece of paper and unfolds it. I blank my expression as I read Eli’s handwriting: “Meet me at Honeysuckle Ridge at 8.”
“Got a secret admirer?” I ask. “I wouldn’t try going. Could be the Riot going after you again.”
“Whatever. My dad told me the Riot isn’t a big deal and that everyone is overreacting, so stop trying to scare me. Olivia gave this to me and I need you to tell me what Honeysuckle Ridge is.”
As if her dad knows us. One more hater who thinks he gets to judge what he doesn’t understand. “Ask Olivia.”
“She won’t tell me, and I think you know what and where this place is and I also think you know my past.”
“You’d be wrong.”
Emily taps her fingernail on the bar as she stares at me. I stare back. It’s the same damn look Eli had right before he pulled the gun on me last night. If I didn’t break with him, I sure as hell am not breaking for her. She slams her hand against the bar. “I don’t believe you. I think you know everything Olivia knows.”
Not everything. “Not my problem what you believe.”
“Well, it should be.”
This, I have to hear. I lean forward on the bar and gesture with my hand for her to continue. Hell, maybe I waved at her so she’d come nearer. She’s already inclined in my direction and my heart skips a beat when she nudges closer. Her shirt dips and a hint of her beautiful cleavage is on display.
Won’t lie. I peeked. “Why should I care what you believe?”
“It’s an integrity issue. If you’re lying now, then I won’t believe anything you say in the future, even when it’s the truth. Is that what you want?”
What I want is to be a prospect. What I want is to begin my job with the security company. What I want is for Olivia to come home and tell me that a miracle happened and she’s cancer-free. What I want is for Emily to stop nibbling on her bottom lip so I can kill the fantasy of reaching across the bar and pressing my mouth to hers.
“You’ll last a week before you call your mom crying to go home, so I can live with it.”
“The longer I go without knowing, the longer I’ll be here,” Emily offers. “Are you excited to spend an entire summer following me around?”
Something flashes inside me. A warning. A thrill. A combination of both. I’m already imagining pushing her up against a wall again and kissing her until her knees go weak and my hands roam free. Not a good thing when touching her would be a death sentence. “Is that what you want? To stay in a place that disgusts you?”
My tone is lower, huskier than it should be and Emily’s chest expands as she draws in a shaky breath. I will her to look away, but she doesn’t and I’m secretly proud the girl won’t back down. I hate this connection. I crave this connection. She’s continually messing with my head.
“I need to know,” Emily admits.
“Why? You’ve lived your whole life not knowing. Why now?”
“Because.”
“Because why?”
“Because I need to know if my mother is lying to me,” she shouts. “Because if my mother is lying to me then everything I know is wrong and that’s not okay.”