Tell me what I did, baby, so I can fix it.

Let me make it right.

“Do you still want to hang out?” I ask her hesitantly as the rest of my friends disperse at the end of the night, waving their goodbyes and leaving us standing alone outside the restaurant.

Emma shivers, tucking her hands under her arms. “Yeah. I’m going to take a rideshare to my house, though.”

“You are? I can drive you. We’re going to the same place.”

“I… I think I need a few minutes alone.”

“Oh. Okay. Can I… Is there anything I can do? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I’ll see you at there.”

I don’t even get a goodbye kiss as she climbs into a car five minutes later.

Double shit.

I definitely fucked up. The drive to her house is nerve-racking, and when I park my car in her driveway, she’s sitting on the steps outside, waiting for me.

“Hey,” I say, shutting my door and slowly approaching her. She looks up, eyes red and puffy.

“I don’t think you should stay over tonight,” she starts, voice rationally calm. She brushes her jeans, giving her hands something to do, before standing up.

“What? Why not?”

“You were flirting with another woman, Henry.”

I stare at her, flabbergasted. “What are you talking about?”

“Being partial to red? Touching her dress? Twirling her hair around your finger? What would have happened if I didn’t walk up when I did? Would you have pulled her into the bathroom like you’ve clearly done before?”

Fuck.

“Nothing would have happened,” I say with conviction. “I was complimenting her. It was no big deal.”

“Do you touch Jo when you compliment her?”

“No, but I—”

“Do you touch Lola when you compliment her?”

“Also no, bu—”

“So why did you feel the need to touch this woman?”

“I… I don’t know. She put my hand on her shoulder and I guess I didn’t stop it. But I didn’t like it, either.”

“Would you be okay if I did that with a guy? If I ran my hand over his shoulder and talked about what pair of boxers of his I like the most? If he touched me while you watched?”

“No, I’d be fucking livid and then I’d punch his nose in.”

“Then why would you think it’s okay to do it with a woman?”

I groan, scrubbing my hand over my face. “I don’t know! It wasn’t flirting!” The frown on Emma’s face tells me I’m clearly wrong. “Okay, maybe it was flirting, but it wasn’t intentional. I didn’t go up to the bar expecting to run into another woman. It wasn’t planned.”

“What Neil said got me thinking. It’s what Betsy said, too.”

“Neil? Don’t listen to him. He’s an idiot.”

I’m going to fucking murder him.