Never Say Never

was just… She was the most gorgeous woman Emily had ever seen.
“Wow,” Stephen said, rising to his feet, “you look—”
“—beautiful.” Emily said it so quietly that no one else heard it. But her lips formed the word, and Camila must have seen it, must have noticed the awestruck look on Emily’s face; if Camila had been oblivious to the effect she had on Emily before, she sure as hell was aware of it now.
Emily dragged her gaze away from Camila to look down at her feet.
“You look great,” Stephen finally choked out, and Emily almost scoffed because was that really the best he could come up with?
“Thank you.” Camila’s eyes were still on Emily, she could feel them, but when Emily looked up, Camila was at Stephen’s side. “Are you ready to go?”
“Sure.”
“Be good for Emily, sweetheart.” Camila leaned down to press a lipstick kiss to his head. “And I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Night, Mama.”
“Have a good night,” Emily said, and Camila waved as she and Stephen moved toward the door, the team of stylists close behind.
Emily watched until the door closed behind them, then fell backward onto the floor. Jaime snuggled up next to her, and they stared up at the ceiling together for a moment. All she could think about was Camila in that dress, and she wished more than anything that she was the one by her side.
She had to get over this before it killed her.
* * *
The second Camila arrived at the gala, she wanted to leave.
She hated events like this, rubbing shoulders with the city’s elite, people she knew would gossip about her as soon as she turned her back.
But it was a necessary part of her professional life and she only attended a few every year, so if she made it through this night, she’d have a few months before the next one.
She had hoped that Stephen would keep her entertained, but she realized pretty quickly that he wouldn’t. He was nice enough; she’d known him for a while, met him at a dinner like this a few months ago, so when he asked if she wanted to go with him to this event, she had readily agreed. But she hadn’t realized that he had the personality of damp cloth.
He was a banker and seemed incapable of talking about anything other than work, which Camila might have found interesting if his stories weren’t so boring. Even after three drinks, his personality was still so bland that Camila couldn’t wait to be home and never see him again.
Home, where Emily was waiting.
Camila let her mind drift to Emily whenever Stephen droned on. The look on her face when Camila had stepped into the room… God, it haunted her.
Because Camila wasn’t stupid—she knew that Emily had a bit of a crush on her. The girl didn’t exactly hide it, and Camila had caught her staring on more than one occasion. She had to admit that she enjoyed the attention; Emily was young and striking, and the fact that she thought Camila was attractive was flattering—and appealing.
But now she wondered if it was more serious than a harmless crush, judging from Emily’s reaction that evening. Emily had called her beautiful, and her own heart had beat a little faster when she saw desire flash across Emily’s face. It had sent a thrill through her, like a bolt of electricity straight to her core.
It was then that she started to wonder if maybe her own attraction was growing into something more.
And that could be dangerous because Emily was… Well, she was so young and innocent and far, far too good for her. Camila blackened everything she touched, and she would never touch Emily’s sweet young heart, no matter how much she might want to, because she refused to ruin Emily Walker.
Especially considering how much Jaime loved her.
So she lingered a little longer at the gala than she wanted to, let Stephen talk her ear off all night, and when she got back to her apartment, she invited him upstairs, even though she had no intention of letting him stay the night.
But Emily might think otherwise, and it was the gentlest way to let her down. The look in Emily’s eyes when she spotted Stephen over Camila’s shoulder drove a knife into Camila’s chest, but it was better to do it now rather than later. If Emily saw her with someone else, maybe it would get her to move on.
“Everything go okay?” Camila asked as Stephen helped her out of her coat.
“Yeah. Jaime went to bed fine. He tried to sneak out a couple of times, but he eventually stayed put. Did you, uh”—Emily fidgeted, eyes flicking between Camila and Stephen—“have a good night?”
“Wonderful,” she lied.
“Great.” Emily smiled tightly, and Camila’s resolve almost broke. “Well, I’ll, um, leave you guys to it.” She reached for her coat, and Camila tried not to look at her shaking hands. “See you tomorrow.”
“Goodnight, Emily.” Camila watched her go, her heart heavy but knowing this was for the best. The girl would bounce back, any ideas she had about Camila forgotten, and Camila would have to push her own thoughts about Emily somewhere deep, deep down until she forgot too.
Not that that was likely. She hadn’t known Emily for very long, but it was long enough for Camila’s world to have been turned upside down, and she didn’t know how to ignore the way her heart pounded when she saw Emily with Jaime. It made her ache for a family, for a partner, for someone to share her life with—and God, how had Emily with her disarming smile torn down her carefully constructed walls so easily?
She needed a drink.
She made one for herself and one for Stephen, tried to chase away the memory of the sad look in Emily’s eyes with the bitter taste of scotch, but it didn’t work.
Stephen turned to kiss her, and Camila let him—it had been a long, long time—but it felt wrong, and she quickly pushed him away.
“I