Peter found Ryce waiting for him in the lobby of the gym. "Where's Em?" he asked. His mood hadn't improved during the time he'd been gone.
Ryce stood. "She went home to change. She'll meet us at Wrongdoings."
Peter nodded and headed out the door. He didn't say anything at all about the kiss.
"I shouldn't have kissed her," Ryce quietly admitted when they pulled up outside of Nate's club. He didn't want to go inside with hard feelings between them. It would affect the rest of the night, and the guys were bound to pick up on it. And Em. As the only girl and the cause of the tension, she wouldn't feel comfortable.
Still, Peter said nothing.
"Man, let's just get this out before we go inside," he said. "I don't want Em feeling uncomfortable because of the kiss. It didn't mean anything."
But kissing Emille meant everything to Peter.
"Say something."
Sharply, Peter turned his head to glare at his friend. "What do you want me to say, Ryce? I asked you not to mess with her, and ten seconds later your tongue's down her throat. What do you really want me to say?"
"Tell me if you're still in love with Emille."
"I was never in love with Emille," Peter said derisively. "She and I have always been friends. That's it."
"Fine. You fell in love with her, became friends, and the attraction went away. If you're falling for her again, you need to do something about it this time."
Women came easy to Ryce, and so he couldn't understand that Emille wasn't interested in dating Peter. Nor would he consider that if Peter showed any real interest in her, Emille would believe that it was because she'd recently lost weight. A knock on his window stopped him from having to respond.
Emille was standing outside, a wide grin on her face. "Y'all ready? David and Jack are here."
They climbed out of the car. Peter was already braced for what he'd see, but he worried that Ryce would blurt out the thing that came first to his mind. It was late September, but Emille was wearing one of those dirt sweeping long dress that women wore during the summer time in a mash-up of all the dark colors. It was too big for her. Over that she'd tossed a long black cardigan. Again. It was too big for her. Since she wasn't either on the same level or taller than Peter, he guessed that she wasn't wearing heels either.
"I thought you'd be showing off those sexy legs I've been hearing so much about," Ryce said, coming around the hood of the car. "Man, I remember how you'd stop traffic with them."
Emille frowned. "Legs?"
With a quick glance at Peter's cold expression, Ryce backtracked. "Come on, babe. I'll buy you a margarita."
They went inside together, Peter trailing behind them. While the guys were busy saying hello to them, Peter went over to the bar and ordered her a glass of mineral water.