I took a deep breath before I began. "Look, Emerson, it’s not what you’re thinking…. We weren’t discussing anything….." The words came out shaky, and I knew I sounded unconvincing.
I was stuttering all over the place, unable to find the right balance between honesty and avoidance. I couldn’t meet his eyes and I was looking for something to say while running short.
He watched me with those sharp, knowing eyes. “You don’t want to tell me, do you?” he asked suddenly, his tone calm but edged with a hint of something like disappointment or Frustration, I couldn't tell.
“No!” I answered quickly, a bit too quickly. “It’s not that I don’t want to tell you, Emerson.”
He didn’t wait for me to finish. He cut me off, his voice quiet.
“We’re going to be late. It would be rude if we, as the hosts
