Embry said. She poured herself a large glass of red wine and curled up on her couch, wrapping herself in a blanket. “Tell me again what he said.” Luke settled himself next to her. Embry went through her entire interaction with Jeremy for the second time. She was still shaken up. He had no proof, and he hadn’t actually accused her of anything, but it hit way too close to home. “I don’t understand why he would even go there. And the sweatshirt thing”—her palm collided with her forehead—”what was I thinking?” Luke pried the wine glass from her fingers and set it on the coffee table before pulling her to him. He smoothed his hand over her hair, kissed her forehead, and rested his chin on her head. “It’s okay, Bree. I promise. He doesn’t know anything.” Embry pulled back, tilting her head to meet his eyes. “How do you know?” “Because neither of us has done anything in the least bit inappropriate. Well”—he rubbed the back of his neck—”let me amend that.
