The Distance Between Us (Book Two ✓)

twenty-five

EMMA

"Ow, shoot," I grumble, balancing my coffee cup with my chin and stack of manuscripts, while juggling the keys to my office door. Saving the manuscripts, I dribble coffee down my arm, leaving sticky residue under my sleeve.

"Need a hand?" Adam asks behind me. "It's okay to ask for help, you know,"

I turn to him sheepishly, grinning politely, feeling a flush of embarrassment as I recall the last time I saw him at the bar. When I stared just a little too long before finally turning away.

"Thanks," I mutter as he pushes my door open, dressed impeccably today in a crisp button up and navy dress pants. "For everything," I add as I dump my belongings on my desk, hoping he won't push it any further. I don't want to even think about Beau right now, never mind discuss him with Adam.

Just hang in until Boston, I remind myself. I'll see Beau and we'll talk, and things will all be better. At least that's what I'm trying to convince myself.

"Hey, I've got a lunch meeting today, so don't wait up for me." Adam reminds me and I feel my heart sink. Lunches without Adam are always the worst.

"Knock 'em dead," I smile encouragingly before watching him return to his office, sending me one last apprehensive look over his shoulder.

With a sigh, I start up my laptop, drumming my fingers over the cool surface of the trackpad. The hallway is quiet today - Jerry is on vacation and Wren has been sick the past few days, leaving Adam, Lizzie, Tori, and I to have the space to ourselves while Jess mans the front desk. I turn on some music to tune out the silence and focus on getting next weeks calendar organized.

About an hour or so goes by before my belly begins to rumble. Reaching for my bottom desk drawer, I find I've officially run out of office snacks. I'll have to grab some more, I make a mental note, deciding I'll refill Adam's M&M jar, as well, since I so often am the one to polish it off.

On my way to the break room, I stop outside Lizzie's office, a familiar tune catching my attention. As quietly as I can, I press my ear to her door, making sure no one else is coming down the hall. By now, the lyrics are fuzzy in my memory, but some part of my brain still remembers the rhythm. Once Beau's voice joins in the chorus, the old MisFits song is nearly rolling off my tongue.

Lizzie hums along, the sound of a pen tapping the desk in time accompanying her voice.

That's when something clicks, sending me backwards a couple of steps. I almost smirk as the realization becomes fully clear: it's not that Lizzie doesn't like me, it's that she's jealous of me.

For all of her snide comments about me being with a celebrity - Beau is exactly why she acts so nasty. But not because he's a rockstar - rather, because she is a fan.

I let out a content sigh, mood infinitely improved by this revelation. I shake my head slowly: I'd bet anything that Beau was even her favorite MisFit.

I nearly stumble into the break room, preoccupied with my recent discovery, and am shocked to see Tori curled up on the couch, a book in her hands.

There goes my mood.

Saying nothing, I search the cabinets for any "up for grabs" snack I can find, the hunger rumbling in my stomach once more. Maybe I'll bring Adam a coffee, I decide, not liking the tension between us.