Magnetic Love: A Protector Romance (A Surviving Love Novel Book 3) by Brinda Berry

Author:Brinda Berry [Berry, Brinda]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9780991632084
Publisher: Sweet Biscuit Publisher LLC
Published: 2020-09-24T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Show Me

Dylan

Wind whips around the edge of the front porch where I stand without a coat. It’s bitterly cold today, but it’s just gotten colder. Emerson’s arctic stare could freeze the balls off a snowman.

My gaze swings from Emerson to the receding taillights of Yvette’s car. Yvette, a former girlfriend who somehow still views me as a friend, called me insane for getting involved with Emerson.

“Hey, gorgeous,” I say to Emerson in a welcoming tone so she’ll stop scowling at me. Then my gaze shifts to Veronica and Malerie who both give me murderous looks. A trio of bad vibes pointed my direction.

“You’re gonna blow your chance,” Malerie says and passes by me. “Don’t mess this up. Talk to her.” Malerie raises both eyebrows at me. Her eyes are red with makeup smudges underneath.

I quickly glance away, uncomfortable with the thought of two upset females right now. Emerson’s all I can handle. “Right,” I answer. Emerson’s back is turned to me and she’s whispering with Veronica. I stride over, not waiting for them to finish.

Emerson shakes her head at Veronica in some girl sign language that further confuses me. These two rarely talk to each other much less go places together.

Emerson lifts her chin at me in a way that Jordy might. “Hey, what’s up?” she asks.

“I’ve called and left you voice mail.” Two voicemails on Saturday, two on Sunday, and one today where I did all but threaten to show up at her place if she didn’t call me back.

“Oh. Sorry. I didn’t think it was important. I’ve been busy.” She gives a tight-lipped fake smile and walks around me to follow the retreating Veronica into the house.

What. The. Fuck.

Her flippant tone and disregard for my concern shoots a bullet of anger into my gut. I turn and follow her inside, walking quickly enough to step around and block her path to the kitchen. “If I’ve done something to piss you off, then you should talk to me.”

She folds her arms across her chest and stares into the afternoon sun that streams through the patio doors leading to the deck. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I think you do.” I grab her hand and pull her toward the staircase. “We need to talk in private.”

“I didn’t come here to see you. Veronica and—”

I lean in close, so close my breath stirs a wisp of hair dangling over her eyes. I need a reaction from her so I know I’m not imagining there’s something between us. “You really don’t want to do this with an audience. If that’s how you want it, we can talk about Saturday night with everyone listening. I’m not shy.”

“Ugh,” she moans. “You are so bossy.”

I nod in agreement. “Yes. I’ve been told that. Come on.”

She wrestles her hand from mine as if I’ve branded her with a burning stamp with the letters of my name. “I’ll give you a few minutes.”

“Yeah, right. I have plenty to say and I’m not going to hurry.” I motion that she should lead the way upstairs.

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