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"So you and Jas are going clubbing tomorrow, eh?" Emmett asks, a wide, amused grin surrounding the Italian sub disappearing into his mouth.
"Yes," I answer, attempting to stem the inevitable mocking I know is heading my way.
He reaches over and thwacks me in the arm. "Ready for some patented Emmett Cullen dance moves?"
"Uh, no thanks, Em. I've got my own."
He laughs out loud and quickly covers his mouth with his forearm, as half-chewed chunks of shredded lettuce and hot peppers escape and fly across the tiny round table we're sharing.
"Jesus, Em. Raised by wolves much?"
-o-
"Sorry, Edward. But you forget, I've seen those moves, and…" He shakes his head so furiously I'm afraid the pencil behind his ear is going to become the next projectile rocketing from his person.
I attempt to wipe the humiliations of dance floors past from my memory, but the bitter aftertaste remains.
Without considering the consequences, I blurt, "Bella showed me some stuff."
His expression changes from condescension to awe. "You really are getting your groove on, aren't you, bro?"
I shrug, slightly remorseful to have shared something so private. But it's Emmett, and I know I can trust him.
-o-
"I mean, just look at you. New hair, new clothes, new bed. You smile all the time now…"
"We done here, Em? I gotta take a leak." I stand for emphasis, hoping he'll take the not-at-all-subtle hint.
"Sure, yeah," he says absently. "Me, too."
It's not until I'm unfurled at the urinals that I realize my fatal error. I quickly take myself in hand, but Emmett's already seen it.
In an uncharacteristic move, he clamps his mouth closed, turns his eyes forward and doesn't say a word. But I see the edges of his lips quirking upward.
"Fuck off, Emmett."
A/N: Okay, I was DYING to get you guys to the urinal. Poor Emmett cannot quite...hold it in...Aaargh! XXX ~BOH