As she spoke, Emily realized she meant it. Despite her reservations, there was something about Lucas that made her want to take a chance.
Sophia nodded, her expression turning serious. “It’s understandable if everything with Ryan has made you nervous,” she said softly. “But Em, you shouldn’t let that hold you back from being happy. If Lucas makes you happy, you should embrace that, whether it’s short term or long term.”
Emily rolled her eyes, but a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “When did you start making sense all the time?” she asked, trying to mask her vulnerability with sarcasm.
“Oh, please,” Sophia scoffed, flipping her auburn curls dramatically. “I’ve always been the voice of reason in this friendship. You’re just finally listening.”
Emily snorted, picking at her lunch. Her mind wandered to Lucas, to the way his hands felt on her skin, the sound of his laugh. She couldn’t deny the spark between them, but the fear of getting hurt again lingered like a shadow.
“I hear you,” Emily said finally, meeting Sophia’s gaze. “It’s just… Part of me wants to dive in headfirst, but another part is screaming to be careful.”
Sophia reached across the table, squeezing Emily’s hand. “That’s normal, babe. Just don’t let fear rob you of something potentially amazing.”
Emily nodded, her chest tightening with a mix of hope and apprehension. “I’ll try,” she promised, both to Sophia and herself. As she glanced at her watch, realizing their lunch break was nearly over, Emily couldn’t help but feel a flutter of anticipation for the evening ahead.
Emily’s heart pounded as she and Sophia walked back to the office, their heels clicking a staccato rhythm on the polished floor. The love bites on her neck seemed to throb, a constant reminder of her night with Lucas.
“Shit,” Emily muttered, tugging at her plait. “I’m so screwed.”
Sophia squeezed her arm. “You’ve got this, Em. Just… maybe don’t mention the spanking, yeah?”
Emily choked out a laugh, grateful for her friend’s attempt at levity. “Christ, Soph. Not helping.”
They parted ways at Sophia’s desk, Emily’s stomach churning as she approached her office. She took a deep breath, steeling herself before pushing open the door.
Her parents stood by the window, silhouetted against the afternoon light. They turned as she entered, their expressions a mix of concern and something else Emily couldn’t quite place.
“Mum, Dad,” she said, her voice steadier than she felt. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Her father cleared his throat. “Emily, dear. We… noticed something during the meeting.”
Emily’s hand unconsciously went to her neck. “Oh? And here I thought my presentation was flawless,” she quipped, buying time.
Her mother’s eyes narrowed. “Emily Jane Carter, don’t play coy with us. Are those… hickeys?”
Emily felt her face flame. “I’m twenty five, not sixteen,” she shot back, defiance rising. “My personal life isn’t up for discussion in the workplace.”
Her father’s brow furrowed. “We’re just concerned, sweetheart. After everything with Ryan-”
“Don’t,” Emily cut him off, her voice sharp. “Lucas isn’t Ryan. He’s… different.”
Her parents exchanged a look. Emily’s mother stepped forward, her voice softening. “We just want you to be careful, love.”
Emily sighed, the fight draining out of her. “I know, Mum. I am. But I’m also…” she paused, searching for the right words. “I’m happy. Really happy.”
Her father’s expression softened. “That’s all we want for you, pumpkin.”
Emily nodded, a lump forming in her throat. “Now, if you’ll excuse me,” she said, gesturing to her desk. “I have actual work to do.”
As her parents filed out, Emily collapsed into her chair, exhaling heavily. She pulled out her phone, firing off a quick text to Lucas.
Emily’s fingers flew over her phone’s keyboard, a mixture of exasperation and amusement colouring her message:
Baby Girl: Just had the most awkward conversation with my parents about your handiwork. Next time, go for spots more easily hidden, yeah?
She hit send, then dropped her phone on her desk with a clatter. Leaning back in her chair, Emily closed her eyes, replaying the uncomfortable exchange. God, she felt like a teenager again, getting caught sneaking in after curfew.
Daddy: No promises, baby girl ?
Baby Girl: You’re impossible.
Daddy: You love it.
Emily rolled her eyes, but couldn’t deny the truth in his words. She did love it. Love his confidence, his playfulness, the way he made her feel alive in ways she’d forgotten were possible.
Glancing at the stack of reports on her desk, Emily sighed. Work could wait a few more minutes. She fired off one last text:
Baby Girl: Maybe. But you’re still in trouble later.
Daddy: Counting on it, sweetheart. Now get back to work before I have to come down there and punish you properly.
Emily set her phone aside, a warm flush creeping up her neck. She had a feeling it was going to be a very long day at the office.