"Oh, I'm enjoying myself." He smirked as he ran a finger up her inner thigh. "So do you have a boyfriend?"

"No," she answered.

"Wrong." His fingers stilled dangerously close to an indecent area for public viewing.

She cocked her head to the side.

"You do have a boyfriend, Emma. He brought you coffee today and fucked you last night."

"Tim!" She slapped him on the arm.

"So, when you left Nashville you just picked Savannah?"

"Not really. It was kinda picked for me." Truth.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I needed to get away from Nashville and my friend Rachel directed me to Savannah and here I am."

"Rachel, huh? She was the one at the dance club with you?"

Emery nodded and sipped her coffee.

"Why'd you have to leave?"

"Tim..."

"You don't want to answer that?"

Emery shook her head.

"I can deal with that." He shifted and lay on his back, staring up at that sky. "My parents were the kindest people I've ever been around," he said, swiftly changing the subject.

She ran her hand down his arm and he caught her hand.

"I actually don't remember if that's true or not," he admitted.

She squeezed his hand.

"It's been so long with so many people talking to me about them, I can't tell my own memories from what people say."

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "My dad died when I was young too, but I feel like the opposite happened to me. No one talked about him. The memories are seared into my mind because I was afraid to lose them."

"Me too, but I'm glad we've found each other," he said softly. "You understand the sense of loss I feel. I can see it in the crease in your brow and how it sometimes takes you a few seconds to figure out a response to a question. I can see it in your grimace when you think no one is watching and I see it in your focus on the concreteness of what you can do." He ran his thumb over her knuckles.

"I do know loss," she agreed.

"And pain," he said.

Silence.

"And..."

"Tim," she urged him to stop. He knew her better than she wanted to admit and she'd told him nothing.

"...regret," he finished for her.

A tear slid down her cheek before she pulled her hand from his and wiped it away.

"Don't cry, Emma. I don't want you to cry again. I want to show you there are things that will allow you to live again. I want to be one of those things."

"I don't think..." She stood up and left the thermos of coffee on the ground and ran toward her house, away from him. She needed to think. He was too close. She needed to be more careful.

"Emma, don't run from your boyfriend!" he called from behind her, his voice amused.

Emery ran faster, but when she saw Rex's nose in her periphery, she gave up. She didn't feel like being tackled by the furry beast today. Tim's touch was immediate and he pulled her to him gently by her neck. His lips crushed into her, his hands traveling down her sides. Rex moved in between them and buried his nose in her crotch.

She yelped, jumping back.

"He really likes you. I think he has good taste." His thumb rubbed her knuckles again and her eyes snapped from Rex to Tim.

"Why? Why me?"

"Oh, Emma, you really don't know, do you?"

"Know what?"

"Know that your soul shines through your eyes. You work tirelessly for kids that will never be able to pay you back. You want to repair their damage and make them whole again like no one did for you. And on top of that, you're smoking hot and do that thing with your tongue."

Emery was stunned into silence.

"Oh, I do love a challenge," he whispered, "and you've proven to be one."

"This...this is too much." Emery started walking toward her place. "You're too much for me, Tim. It's not a game. Even if it were a game, I'm pretty sure you wouldn't want the prize if you won."

"Emma, let me date you. There's no harm in that, is there?"

"I think you know there is." She smiled without meaning it.

"I promise I won't hurt you."

"I can't promise you the same thing."

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR.

Dancing with the Lies we Tell

With her workload, the next Saturday morning came quickly, creeping through her blinds and tickling her eyelids. Emery yawned and stretched, feeling the familiar ache of missing him, but the him now was Tim, not Noah. It had been a week since Emery left Tim at the park with the promise that she would hurt him. He hadn't called, texted, or stopped by. She'd been busy, but missed his arrogant comments and easy company. She wondered if she'd finally scared him off enough to be done with her. It's probably for the best.

She'd enjoyed the last few months, the teasing, touching, and feeling somewhat normal, but all that had to come to an end. At least she did it before he meant even more to her. Or was it already too late? His absence felt like a part of herself was missing already. A buzzing of emotions lay just beneath her surface when she was with him. Her heart felt bigger, fuller, stretched... She didn't know what that meant, but she'd never felt it before.

The last time he was over he'd left a shirt at her house; she'd been sleeping in it. Emery was afraid for her sanity. She hardly knew this guy and just wanted his nearness; she felt the absence of his smile and laugh when he wasn't around.

The silence in her apartment was shattered when the buzzer sounded. She looked at it, puzzled.

"Yes?" she asked, but only heard the door open. "What the hell?" She hadn't let anyone in. The knocking on her door startled her and she froze. Hoping there wasn't anything to be scared about, she leaned her eye to the peephole. She ran her hand through her hair in either frustration or relief, she wasn't sure.

Stepping back from the door, she opened it. Tim was standing there in his uniform with a bag of food in his hand. He gave her a lopsided smile and walked in without asking permission.

Emery shut the door and leaned her forehead against it, then watched him walk around like he owned the place. She tried to rationalize why he was here and what she should say. When she turned around he was there, in her personal space, his eyes clouded over with desire.

"I like that you're wearing my shirt to sleep in, Emma," he said, his voice low and gravelly. He lifted her off her feet and wrapped her legs around his waist.

She moved her head away from him, looking into his eyes, and cocked her head to the side in confusion. He claimed her lips and slid his tongue into her mouth. Her body ignited at his touch.

Tim kissed her jaw, then tugged her earlobe into his mouth and moaned. "Emma...what this week did to me...God, you wouldn't believe."

They stared into each other's eyes; hers full of longing and confusion, his of desire and determination.

He sighed and started walking toward her room. "I'm going to fuck you and then take you to my favorite place on earth," he growled as he threw her on the bed.

Emery gawked at him as he tore off his uniform in record time. Indecision gripped her; she'd pushed him away and he came back. She'd kept her distance and he kept bringing her back to him. When she was with him, she felt a pull and a knowledge she wouldn't say no to him. Ever.

"Tim-"

He cut her off by pulling her over to the edge of the bed by her ankles, then grabbing her shirt and ripping it over her head. "I need to touch you everywhere. I'm not..." He stared at her. "I can't help myself."

He grabbed her panties and pulled them down her legs, throwing them in the same direction as his shirt. He buried his face between her legs and she jerked at the suddenness of it.

"Oh...my..." she groaned and disappeared from the room at the apex of her undoing.

All she heard was the buzzing of the tires over the asphalt as she and Tim made their way to who knows where in his truck. They were driving over the Talmadge Memorial Bridge into South Carolina. Emery put her arm out the window and let the wind blow her hair back from her face. The morning was chilly and the sun was just rising, sitting on the edge of the earth like a yolk.

Tim took a right on a heavily wooded road and drove several miles before turning onto a long dirt road. The Spanish moss dripping from the trees looked straight out of a movie.

"You sure you want to be out here all day? You must be exhausted." Emery watched the landscape as they moved deeper and deeper into the woods. When he didn't answer her, she spoke again. "You're not driving me here to kill me, are you? This is like out of a movie or something."

Tim stopped the truck next to what looked like a cinderblock house. "This is it," he said, getting out of the truck. He stretched and took out the thermos of coffee Emery had made that morning for him. He took a sip and spat it out immediately.

"What's wrong?"

"That, my dear, is the worst coffee I've had in my entire life." Tim wiped his mouth off on his arm. "Shit. You drink that?"

"Yes, it's fine." She pouted.

"Emma, that's putrid. You must have a stomach made of lead to drink that."

She took a sip of hers. "It's fine," she repeated.

Tim grabbed her travel mug and took a sip. His face registered disgust. "You just can't tell because you have a half bottle of cream in there."

"You're a coffee snob."

"Um, no, I'm not. You just don't know how to make it properly."

"Whatever, asshole," she muttered, looking around. "It's pretty out here."

"This is my favorite place in the entire world. I come out here to think, to be by myself, to get away from everything." He took her hand and led her into the building. "My buddies and I used to come out here and have bonfires and drink beer when we weren't supposed to. Eventually, I made my grandfather help me bring these bunk beds out for when we were hunting or too drunk to drive."

The building was one big room. There was a small kitchen in the far left corner with a table for six people nestled near it. That area was separated by three La-Z-Boy recliners and a gigantic television. The three bunk beds lined the wall at the far right, with a door at the back wall.

"Cool," she said and she meant it. It looked like a pretty simple place to hang without parents when he was younger. "Do your grandparents come out here a lot?"

"Here?" He shook his head. "Meme wouldn't be caught dead out here." He shrugged. "Let's walk around a bit and you can tell me all about yourself and growing up." His tone was casual, but Emery knew this was planned. He wanted to see if she was going to open up to him. He needed her to. This was either the beginning or the end, and the decision was up to her.

Emery looked up at him, trying to come up with a way to dodge this conversation. "I'm starving. Can we eat first?"

He smiled. "Of course. Let's take the truck down to the river. We can eat there."

As they drove deeper into the trees, the greens got richer and the woods more dense. They came to a clearing with a couple of grills, tables, and what looked like a shell of a garage. She could also see the edge of a river from the truck. Tim swung the truck around, putting the bed toward the water. He turned on the radio and pulled out what they'd packed for breakfast.

"We'll eat on the tailgate." He motioned for her to grab a blanket behind the seat.

Emery followed him and spread the blanket out on the bed of the truck, then hopped up on the tailgate, kicking her legs a bit. Tim set out bagels, fruit, and cream cheese. They prepared their bagels and Emery sipped her coffee.

"I missed you this week," she admitted.

He looked up from his bagel. "Busy with work and trying to figure out if I can walk away from you."

Shocked from his admission, her mouth fell open.

"What, Emma? You basically told me to fuck off, but in a really nice way."

She shook her head. "I didn't...I just..."

"Listen, I'm not stupid. I know something has happened to you. I know you ran from whatever it is. I know it has to do with your mom. I know that you refuse to tell me anything about that time in your life and I just needed some time to see what I would do with that."