When Sparks Fly (Holiday Hunk Book 6) by Sarah Spade

Author:Sarah Spade [Spade, Sarah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-07-10T16:00:00+00:00

6

Felicity

Emile doesn’t answer me right away. Finally, when I’m beginning to suspect that he’s just going to pretend I didn’t say anything at all, he leans back in his seat.

“Why are you surprised? Especially after last night. I can’t look at you and not think about sex. I thought you were into it, too. Shit, I hope I wasn’t wrong.”

He wasn’t. I might not have planned what happened in the backseat of my car, but I was definitely into it. Can’t find it in me to regret it, either. But that doesn’t mean I’m eager to follow him into a stall like who knows how many others.

He’s always been a bit of a horndog. I’ve always been the jealous type.

I guess we didn’t change even a little bit.

“You know what? Forget I said anything.”

“That’s worse than ‘nothing, honest’.”

“What?”

He shakes his head. “The Felicity I know would finish this conversation without running away from it again.”

“Maybe I’m not the Felicity you know anymore, Emile.” I try to bring a smile to my face. It comes out more like a grimace. “Five years is a long time. People change. They make new friends, meet new people, sleep around…”

Oops. Did I really say that out loud?

Emile’s handsome face closes down, going expressionless.

Yup. Totally did.

“So that’s what this is about.” He lets out a soft breath, an exhale that has that long strand of hair hanging forward flopping against his forehead. Emile moves forward again, leaning in, keeping his voice low. This discussion is for me and him. “Let’s put everything out on the table. I made some mistakes. Had some fun. Met a couple of girls—but that was all after you left.”

“Because you dumped me.”

“You agreed we needed to take a break.”

“You told me we were. What could I say? No? Besides, it doesn’t matter. You’re grown, Emile. So am I. We made our own choices—”

“How many?”

“Excuse me?”

Emile’s jaw is clenched, the edge so sharp I could use it to spread jam on my toast. “Your choices. The guys you met at school. How many?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“I’ll tell you about mine,” he offers.

“No, thanks.”

A muscle tics in his cheek. “I want to know. Please.”

It’s the please that gets to me.

I know I shouldn’t tell him. It really is none of his business and it will only make me feel worse that he knows how pathetic I was while he was busy with any chick that would have him. I don’t regret my choices—I’m sitting across from the only regret I’ve ever had—and if he wants to know so damn bad, I’ll tell him.

“None. Okay?”

“None?”

I shrug. “It wasn’t because of you or anything. It just… I never had the opportunity.”

I’m lying. We both know it.

And that’s right about when I realize that I’m in even bigger trouble than I initially thought.

Emile raises one eyebrow. I could never figure out how he did it. I asked him to teach me once, years ago, during a really boring study hall. He laughed at each

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