Empty

When Embry woke up the next morning, Leah and Jacob were sitting in his living room engaged in a lively chat with his mother. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he traipsed barefoot across the rug and threw the two a confused look. "What are you two doing here?"

Tiffany, his mother, glanced at him. She was rebuking him for being so rude; he could tell. If there was anything Embry knew about his mother, it was how upset looked like in her eyes.

"We wanted to come check up on you," Leah said cheerfully. And to see if you and Kara got anywhere last night, Jake added jokingly. He was seated across from Ms. Call, smirking. Leah tried not to laugh.

That too.

Rolling his eyes, the standing boy made his way to the kitchen. He wasn't in the mood to talk about it. Jacob didn't let him get away that easy. "Ms. Call, I'll just join Embry in the kitchen."

Tiffany waved the boy in and turned to a rising Leah. "How's your mother doing, Leah? I haven't seen her since last week."

Leah bit back her growl and sat back down. She had wanted in on the conversation too.

Jacob, in the kitchen, faced Embry's back with arms crossed across his chest. He was smiling. "So, how did it go last night?"

Embry poured himself a cup of hot chocolate before turning to his friend. "It didn't have to happen like that if you and Leah had minded your own businesses and kept her away from there."

Jake remembered the shove and frowned. "I'm sorry about that, really. I'll apologise to her when I get the chance. But duuddee..." he said this with added emphasis, "you carried her home. Please tell me you at least got her number for that?"

Embry felt the irritation rise and take hold. Shaking his head, he put the mug down and glared at his friend. "You don't get it, do you? You put an innocent girl's life in danger just so that I could get close to her? What kind of sick game is that?"

Jacob's smile fell off. "Ok, first of all, it wasn't some sort of sick game. What Paul did was completely uncool. But if I hadn't stepped in, he would have taken your chance!"

The chair that Embry had been clutching broke. It was only then that Jake understood just how mad his friend really was. "It wasn't your decision to make, Jacob. I had no intention of making a move on Kara Powell. I have no intention on ever making a move on her."

Jacob's frown deepened. "What do you mean? It's obvious you dig her. Why are you being such a dick about this?"

"Because I just am, okay? She's just some girl I find pretty and you had to be an ass and tell everyone that I had a crush on her. Now everyone thinks I'm like..." Embry stopped talking. He ground his teeth together and kicked the chair across the room. It shattered when it hit the back door. The sound ricocheted through out the small kitchen.

"Like me," Jake finished for him.

Embry said nothing.

Leah's warning voice echoed through their heads. What the hell are you doing in there? she started, Your mother's having an aneurysm!

Embry glared at Jake for a few moments before he shook his head. "You'll never understand why I don't want Kara involved in any of this," exasperated, he waved his hands around the room, "you'll never understand why I like to keep my private life as private as I can."

Jacob was still stinging from his friend's admission. Dropping his eyes to the floor, he made for the door. "Forget it then. Last night was a mistake. We'll never do it again."

Embry felt a twinge of regret but he was too upset to apologise. Yes, he'd liked the girl the first moment he saw her. Yes, every inch of him was dying to go up to her and ask her out. But he didn't appreciate being pushed into something he wasn't ready for. He didn't want to take what he felt for Kara to a more tangible level because... well, just because. He was tired of being made to feel like the pack's pet project. He was tired of the link that stayed him to them and he was tired of their constant teasing. Was it really that hard for his brothers to just leave well enough alone?

Or was that just too much to ask?

His peripheral hearing picked up the closing front door and his mother's impending footsteps. Glancing at the broken chair, he knew that he had to do something about that before she came in but he didn't really care, honestly. Not right now. When she flung open the door, she took one glance at the chair, at her still trembling son and shook her head.

"I don't understand you sometimes, Embry," she told him.

Embry shut his eyes and leaned against the sink. That was okay. He didn't understand himself either, sometimes.