Chapter 11
ELEVEN
EMMA
FEbrUARY
I sat forward to refill Jeanine Sorrento’s wine glass, then topped off my own. “This is great Sauvignon Blanc. Can I order it from them?”
“Yeah, the winery has a wine club. But I can keep you supplied if you really want it,” Jeanine said, taking a sip.
She pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around them on my overstuffed couch.
Jeanine Sorrento, Mara Leroy, and Violet Gennari, captain Colton Jones’s girlfriend, sat in my living room.
I rarely made it to our alleged book club and was honored they still invited me.
Violet and Mara took a liking to me after I helped them out with various schemes with their partners, and they tried to include me in their non-hockey fun.
I’d missed the last several months of book club, partially because of Liam’s hockey schedule, and partially from not reading the books, like ever.
This time, though, I held myself accountable by hosting the gathering, knowing that would make me read the book.
Violet chose an alien romance for us, and at the moment, she looked like she was on Mars herself. “Do you guys think aliens are real?”
While Jeanine and I drank wine from her family’s vineyard, Mara had talked Violet into one of her weed gummies. Violet’s was clearly kicking in.
“I hope so,” I said. “Then I’ve actually got a shot at this grade of fancy peen.”
“They do make toys like this.” Mara picked up her phone. “Let’s see if this book has a coordinating peen.”
“I think I like human peen,” Violet said, then blushed. “Or I guess, one human’s peen.”
“We get it, you’re madly in love with Colt,” Jeanine said.
Mara pursed her lips, scrolling through whatever sex toy listings she’d found. “I wonder if Jack would wear this thing that gives him a tickler thingie right where you’d want it.”
“You know I have to work with your husband day in and day out, right? Please ensure I can still look him in the eye.”
Mara put her phone to the side, tapping her lips. “That’s a good idea. Do you think you could report back to me if he doesn’t look you in the eye?”
“Poor Jack,” Jeanine sighed. “Doesn’t even get a break at work.”
The front door handle jiggled behind me and my darling son walked through the door.
“Hey, Li,” I said, leaning back over the couch. “Everybody, this is my son, Liam.”
His cheeks turned a deep crimson. “Is this your book club?”
“Yeah, join us!” Mara said. “Pull up a chair! We were just talking about—”
Jeanine lunged to put a hand over Mara’s mouth. “Nothing. And we will continue talking about nothing if you choose to join us.”
Liam’s lips flipped into a grimace. “Ew. No. I’m going to bed. With earplugs.”
“Smart choice,” I said. “I’m having to hear about my coworker’s habits and I don’t necessarily want that information.”
“Oh, lighten up,” Mara said. “Just date one too and then it won’t be weird for you anymore. Who’s single on the team?”
“Just,” I guffawed. “I’m all set, thanks.”
“Isn’t Rice single?” Violet added. She opened and closed her mouth a couple times like she was chewing on the word. “Rice? Royce? Reese?”
Oh, lord. It hadn’t been but a couple of days since I was at Amarillo Steakhouse with Harlan. I didn’t really want the girls knowing about our cooking lessons. They’d read into it, and I didn’t feel like dealing with it.
“That’s the one you saved from the bus, right, Mom?”
The din of giggles came to a halt.
“Saved from the bus?” Jeanine inquired, crossing her legs and propping her chin on her fist. “Do tell.”
“It wasn’t a big deal,” I started.
“Yes, it was,” Liam objected. “You hurt your back to save him.”
“Hang on, now,” Mara said. “Backs are important.”
“You saved Royce?” Violet asked. “How?”
I sighed. “He was on the phone and not paying attention to where he was going. He walked out in front of a bus. I pulled him out of the way, but yeah, it hurt my back a little.”
“Does the team know?” Jeanine asked.
“Some of them, yeah, I guess,” I said with a shrug. “Cap came to check on me, and PT looked me over. The coaches knew.”
“Colt’s so sweet,” Violet said.
Jeanine was already typing away on her phone. “Wait until marketing hears about this.”
“Test,” I said gently into the microphone clipped on my shirt.
“Perfect. Can you guys scoot a little closer together? Let’s bring the stools in tight. Come on. Act like you like each other.”
Royce and I sat in front of a green screen background in the marketing office. We both stood, and Royce slid my stool to nestle with his. “Like this?”
“No, hang on.” The social media intern stepped forward and staggered the stools so my shoulder would be in front of Royce’s. “There.”
Jeanine owed me some wine for this. She blabbed to marketing that I saved Royce, and now we were going to be a feature on social media.
When I sat again, Royce’s fingertips touched my lower back, like he was making sure I didn’t topple over. “Good?”
“Fine.” I was being cold to him, but it was with good reason.
I was trying not to get flustered, which was hard to do when the man sitting next to me smelled nice, kept biting his whoreish neck chain, and took me for a ride on his motorcycle not long ago.
If I was cold, he couldn’t get to me. If he couldn’t get to me, they wouldn’t catch it on camera.
I stroked my fingers through my hair, looking around for a mirror to make sure it was sitting nicely.
“Here.” Harlan tapped my chin so I’d face him. Then, just like when I got off his bike, he ran his fingers through my hair. He mussed it a little at the roots and smirked.
“Are you messing it up?” I asked.
“I would never,” he said with a wink. He tucked a lock of my hair behind my ear, just like the last time. “There.”
“Alright, we’re rolling. Emma, tell us what happened from your perspective. And Royce, just cut in whenever it comes to your involvement.”
“Got it,” he said. “Whenever you’re ready, Chef.”
I drew in a breath and blew it out through my lips. “In and out,” Royce said, voice low. “You camera shy?”
“Do we have to do this?” I mumbled back. “It feels weird and self-congratulatory.”
Again, that monstrous hand landed on my back. “We don’t have to, but it’s a pretty cool story. You deserve some limelight.”
I nodded and sat straighter. I’d just launch into it before I could second-guess myself.
“Okay, so I was walking into work and Royce was in front of me on the phone.” I left out the part where he was zigzagging like he was running from an alligator.
“I was hanging back so I didn’t eavesdrop, but he didn’t check for traffic at the corner. He just walked out into the street.”
I hadn’t relived the accident since that day, not like this. Not with him sitting next to me and him smelling just like he did that day. Not with his skin so close to mine that I could feel his warmth radiating off him.
In truth, it was scary that day. I didn’t want to see anyone die, but I really didn’t want to see him die.
Him specifically. Because who would annoy me if he died?
Who would come loom on his floor tile if he wasn’t around to do it?
So often, we don’t realize how much impact someone has in our lives until we see that there would be a void without them.
I didn’t expect to get emotional about this, but it really had been a big moment. My voice cracked on my next words, and Royce let out a little hum.
“I saw a bus headed toward him, and I knew he hadn’t seen it. His head wasn’t even turned that way. I called his name, but he didn’t hear me. So, I ran.”
I looked beside me to find Harlan watching me talk, and he looked different.
Like, day-of-the-accident different, how he looked at me when I thought something more was about to happen.
Enamored. Spellbound. Hopeful. I stopped talking because my body set off several distracting signals, my stomach dipping, my heart skipping, my hands itching with the urge to touch the man whose outer thigh was already kissing mine.
Harlan jumped in. “Yeah, so I was out of it and then there was a horn blaring, and headlights, and this flash of blonde hair before I was on the ground. It was a true life-before-my-eyes moment. Chef tackled me out of the way.” His jaw muscle twitched and he put a hand on my knee. “She saved my life.”
Our eyes met, and his were a little watery. It was the softest I’d ever seen him, and my chest squeezed at how earnest he was being.
Plus, his hand was on me, and it was being recorded.
He kept looking at me while he talked. “The whole incident make me think about everything I hadn’t done with my life, and whether I was being who I wanted to be.”
“Win a Cup?” I offered, trying to lighten the mood.
Harlan snorted and grinned. “Yeah. Win a Cup. I still want to do that.”
“Did either of you get hurt?” the interviewer asked.
“Kinda,” I admitted. “He fell on top of me and he’s a little bigger than me.”
Harlan squeezed my thigh. “Sorry.”
My heart fluttered, just like it did every other time he touched me. I couldn’t let him work me up publicly like this. Time to take my own advice.
Clear your head.
“So, Emma, what was going through your mind when you saw him in a dangerous situation?”
My jaw flapped. This was supposed to be a light and breezy interview, not some emotional upheaval. I fixed my face into a smile. “I mean, this guy gives me hell all the time, but I didn’t want something bad to happen to him.”
“That’s a relief,” Harlan laughed.
The interviewer was silent, waiting for me to expand on that feeling.
“And yeah, I couldn’t just let him get hurt without trying to do something about it.”
Harlan puffed out his lip, and though he was trying to joke, there was some sincerity to his tone. “Aw, Em. I wouldn’t let you get hurt either.”
We were so close to each other that I could fall into his lap. What was I doing? I was giving in to his charm. People would see this and make judgments. They might think something was happening between us.
As tender as I felt toward him, I couldn’t let it go on like this. “Well, you did hurt me,” I pointed out.
“It was an accident!” he squealed, putting his hands out. “You pulled me down!”
I tipped my head at him. Back to classic Royce. Just like the day of the accident, fantasy land playtime was over. “Did I save your life or not?”
“I mean, yeah, you did—” he started with an eye roll.
“Which hurt me,” I said over him. “So, you would hurt me.”
He laughed and rolled his eyes. “Fine. You win. But I wouldn’t hurt you on purpose.” He got more serious again, deep blue eyes settling on mine. “I’m lucky you were there, Em.”
A baffling gut punch. Harlan Royce was being sincere, and it made my eyes hot and my throat feel tight. There was only one way to keep from crying on camera.
Give him shit.
I grinned at him, trying to ignore the burning in my cheeks. “You’re lucky I let you be around me at all. You’re a hazard.”
Royce dropped his jaw like I’d slapped him and I laughed.
“And cut!”