The Crush (19)

Her eyes softened. “He’s here, though. And it was his idea to take Parker’s place. He thought it would be fun to surprise you.”

Now why did that make me feel all panicky and cold? “Who told you that?”

“Parker. When he got here last night.”

I swallowed hard. “I’m … choosing to ignore that fact.”

“Ahh, I see we’re taking the road of denial. Solid coping mechanism.”

“Screw you, okay?” I said without heat. “There’s nothing between Emmett and me except a mildly embarrassing story that will not be repeated. You watch. We’ll have a friendly weekend hanging out, then we’ll go our separate ways, and everything will go back to normal.”

Greer grinned. “Mmmkay.”

I flipped up my middle finger, my other hand tugging my extra bras out of my suitcase. “You’re single too. No one’s giving you shit about him being in the house.”

One dark eyebrow rose slowly. “Does that mean if I wanted a shot with the sexy quarterback, you’d stand back and let me?”

My skin went hot and prickly, and without even realizing it, I narrowed my eyes in a glare. Greer fell back on the bed in helpless laughter.

It took her a solid twenty seconds to get herself under control.

“I hate all of you,” I muttered.

“Even me?” His deep voice came from the doorway.

Just … kill me now. From the time he finished his run to when he came upstairs, the shirt had covered whatever glorious collection of muscles contained on his upper body. But the shirtsleeves were ripped off, a large gap in the sides showing glimpses of his obliques, the rounded curves of his arms and shoulders.

“Hey,” I said. Breathlessly. Like an idiot.

Greer smothered a grin, and I wondered if it would be too obvious if I stepped forward to kick her in the shin.

Emmett smiled, his eyes bright and sharp with interest. It didn’t matter that I’d been around him the night before because I didn’t know it was him. There’d been no breathless greetings or reading through all the subtext of eyes and smiles because he’d simply been a hot guy in a mask who asked me to dance.

It was different in the light of day, in these familiar surroundings.

Greer glanced back and forth between us. “Hey, Emmett. I think my mom just called my name.”

She widened her eyes meaningfully as she passed me.

“Did she?” I asked.

“Nope,” she said under her breath.

Emmett moved from the doorway so she could leave, a slight smile on his face when he stepped into my bedroom. “You made good time,” he said. “I thought we’d be back before you got here.” He plucked at the front of his shirt. “I was hoping to grab a shower before I saw you. I probably stink.”

I laughed, and there was an edge of panic to it.

Yeah right. Emmett’s sweat probably smelled like sex and a grove of pine trees.

His gaze went to my hands. Where I was clutching three lacy bras.

Carefully, I laid them back in the suitcase. “Must’ve been a good workout then.”

He nodded, eyes tracking over my face. No masks today. No tuxedos. No dresses. And despite my feminine urge to primp a bit more than usual, knowing he’d be here, I managed to leave the hotel with a washed face and a single coat of mascara, and that was it.

And because it’s what I’d packed, I was wearing a Ft. Lauderdale T-shirt over some leggings.

“Nice shirt,” he said.

I smiled. “My brother sent us a bunch of stuff when he signed in Florida. Still feels a bit like I’m cheating on Washington when I wear it, though.”

He hummed. “I understand that far better than you know.”

I chewed on my bottom lip as I tried to figure out how to ask what I wanted to ask. Emmett’s lip curved up on one side.

“Whatever you’re thinking, out with it.”

My eyes widened at how accurately he’d read my expression. “Well … I guess I just always thought you’d want to end up in Washington someday.”

Emmett took another step into my room, and where I was leaning up against my dresser, his shoulder almost brushed mine when he studied the family picture on the wall.

“Everyone thought that,” he said.

“When James retired a couple of years ago, I would’ve bet a lot of my pennies in the bank that Washington would go after you hard to fill the QB spot.”

He didn’t tear his eyes off the picture. “I’m glad you didn’t then.”

It was hard to imagine, coming from the family he did—knowing how much they loved him—that he wouldn’t want to come back home and play there. It was another reminder of just how much I didn’t really know Emmett anymore.

“They wanted to make you an offer, though.”

He gave me a sideways glance. “They did.”

“Not enough zeroes on the paycheck for you?” I asked lightly.

He didn’t laugh, but his eyes sparkled. “If it were only that simple. A lot of things have to happen before a player can transfer teams, if that’s what they want.”

Emmett offered no more information, and when a dozen questions tingled at the tip of my tongue, I just knew it was his evil hot man way of making me want to know more.