The Crush (14)

Greer: You never sent me a picture of the finished product. Did you go for the lip??

Me: I did go for the lip. And I have stories.

Attaching a picture I’d snapped in the hotel mirror before I left for the party, I laughed when my sister responded with seven flame emojis.

Greer: HOT. Are they good stories or bad stories?

Me: A little bit of both. I’ll tell you tomorrow.

Me: Love you bunches.

Greer: Drive safe.

No texts from Emmett, but there wouldn’t be. As far as I knew, he didn’t have my phone number. In fact, there was only one social media channel where he followed me. And on that app, when my eye strayed toward it, there was a little red notification signaling a message.

“Don’t be a coward,” I whispered. My thumb tapped on the app, then opened up the message section. His name was at the very top.

Emmett: So … maybe I should have warned you this was going to happen.

Emmett: It was my idea. Parker had nothing to do with it.

Emmett: I’m sorry if it was a terrible surprise. I thought

Emmett: Damn it. My stupid thumb hit send before I finished. I thought you’d recognize me, and then when you didn’t … I don’t know. I’m sorry. Can I talk to you? I’m staying at The Heathman until tomorrow.

My cheeks were a thousand degrees, and I tried to imagine meeting him. In my pajamas. With his face and his tux and the shoulders, and I couldn’t do it. We were at the same hotel, for crying out loud. He could be down the hall for all I knew.

Something about Emmett had always thrown me off-kilter. Which, as previously established, was not normal for me. Hell, if I thought really hard about it, spontaneous confessions of feelings were something I swore never to do again after the first time I’d crashed and burned at his very large feet. With Nick, I kept the “I love you too” locked the hell down until he said it first.

Professional athletes and I are not a good mix, apparently. And it was good for me to remember that. I needed someone normal.

A lawyer maybe. Or a teacher. Or a builder, like my brother, Cameron.

As I thought it, a green circle popped up by his picture, indicating he was online.

I blew out a deep breath and tapped a message.

Me: I’m sorry I ran. I don’t do very well with surprises.

Emmett: Hey. I was worried.

Emmett: Where are you staying? I can come to you.

Me: I’m already in bed for the night. I think I’m too mortified to show my face in public tonight if that’s okay.

Emmett: Why are you embarrassed?

Me: I plead the Fifth on that. I’m driving home to Sisters tomorrow morning and plan to hit the road around eight. But if you can be up earlier than that, I’ll meet you in The Heathman lobby for coffee.

Emmett: Can I call you?

Behind my ribs, my heart thrashed. It was like being a teenager all over again. I settled my hand on my chest, grew some lady balls, and carefully tapped out my phone number.

Immediately, an unknown number popped up on my screen, the phone buzzing in my hand.

I tapped the button to answer, then put the call on speakerphone.

“Hi,” I said quietly.

“Hi.”

I closed my eyes at the sound of his voice.

Emmett blew out a hard breath. “Not my best entrance, huh.”

Was he down the hall? On another floor? I tried not to think about it.

I cleared my throat. “In hindsight, your entrance was pretty epic. Impeccable timing.”

“I looked for that guy after you left,” Emmett admitted.

I smiled. “You did not.”

“I did.”

Lying in bed and talking to him felt a wee bit too intimate, so I sat up and wrapped my arms around my shins. “Did you find him?”

He let out a disgruntled sigh. “No.”

We both went quiet.

“Why are you—”

“I shouldn’t have—” he said at the same time.

I laughed, and he told me to go ahead.

“Why were you there instead of my brother?” I asked. “I’m going to kill Parker, by the way.”

Emmett paused. “Can I plead the Fifth on that too?”

“I suppose I can’t argue with that since I did the same.”

“But,” he continued, “I do have to admit something to you, and I didn’t want to do it over a message.”

“Okay.”

“I’m going to Sisters tomorrow too. Parker invited me to do some conditioning over the weekend, and I’ve never … I’ve wanted to see the place.”

My mouth fell open. “You … you’re going to be at my house this weekend?”

“Surprise,” he said with a quiet laugh.

The thoughts in my head were racing because what started as a nice, simple visit home was now going to be anything but.

“I can’t meet you for coffee because I chartered a flight from Portland to the Sisters Eagle Airport, and it leaves early.”

I rolled my lips together, imagining his big ole body sprawled out on a buttery leather seat in a private airplane. Then I tapped my forehead because that was not helpful.

“Fancy,” I said. “Looks like you’ll beat me there then.”

He was quiet for a moment. “You can hop on the flight with me if you want.”