Page 33 of For Emery

“Oh, yeah?” His voice dropped to a lower tenor. “Because I can be very persuasive.”

Another swarm of butterflies filled my belly. I wasn’t used to him flirting with me, and I tried to stop the thoughts whirling through my brain telling me his feelings may have changed.

“Emery?”

Both Jordan and my eyes shot to Flip standing behind him down on the field. How had I not seen Flip approach? I guess, just like when I was a kid, when Jordan was around, the rest of the world ceased to exist.

“Thanks for waiting for me,” Flip said to me.

Jordan exaggerated a cough.

Flip looked to him.

“You played a great game,” I said, trying to redirect Flip’s attention.

“Thanks to me,” Jordan choked out under his breath.

Flip ignored Jordan. “Our floor’s gonna celebrate tonight. You in?”

My eyes jockeyed between Jordan looking about ready to say something insulting, and Flip awaiting my response. “Yeah. Sure,” I said.

“Great.” Flip looked to Jordan. “You heading to the locker room, Grady?”

“Nope,” Jordan said.

Anger filled Flip’s face, but he pulled it together long enough to peg both Jordan and me with his eyes. When neither of us budged, he turned and walked to the tunnel, begrudgingly leaving us alone.

“You didn’t ask where you guys are celebrating,” Jordan said.

I cocked my head. “You’re seriously gonna go all protective big brother on me now?”

“Someone’s got to.”

“I’m a big girl,” I said. “Or haven’t you noticed?”

His eyes drifted up my bare legs, over my cutoffs to the Alabama T-shirt hanging off my shoulder. “No, I’ve noticed.”

I swallowed down my surprise and struggled to look him in the eye. “I should probably get going.”

He nodded. “It was nice of you to come…see Flip.”

“You know that’s not the only reason I was here.”

He shrugged, as if unconvinced. “See ya later, Em.” He turned and made his way toward the tunnel.

I dropped down into my seat with my heart rattling around inside my chest. Was it always going to hurt so damn much every time Jordan Grady walked away from me?

Grady

I gathered up my shit after a nice long shower and took off toward the locker room exit.

“Grady,” Coach called.

“Fuck,” I grumbled as I turned around and trudged back toward his office.

He didn’t bother to look up from the tablet he tapped away at on his desk as I stopped in his doorway. “Sit.”

I dropped into the chair opposite him.

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