Page 107 of The Fake Out

His arms tightened, and he breathed me in, sending a spark of awareness through me.

“And I quit my job today.”

He jerked back, clasping my upper arms. “What?”

“I didn’t just not take the promotion. I quit.” I licked my lips and surveyed the skyline behind him. “It’s scary, but I want to paint. And sell my work. I don’t want to be in that toxic work environment anymore. And I want to trust myself.”

He smiled. “So if I have to ask you to follow me to Timbuktu, you might be free to do it?”

“I’d follow you anywhere,” I promised.

He pulled me in and squeezed me tight again. But as relieved as he was in this moment, I knew he didn’t want leave the Revs.

I hoped the team was smart enough to realize that Emerson shouldn’t be going anywhere.

I climbed out of the black Mercedes like I did every time I arrived at Lang Field. But this time, Chris was leaning against the fence that surrounded the stadium, a jersey tossed over one shoulder.

“So?” He straightened and cocked a brow.

“I’m totally in love with your sister.”

He rolled his eyes. “I got that yesterday. Is it safe to assume, since you’re practically spitting happiness, that you talked to her?”

I tackle-hugged him, almost knocking him over.

“Jesus.” He shook loose and shoved me back.

“She quit her job. And she wants to focus on art and stay in Boston for a while.” I smiled, my heart practically bursting out of my chest. “Because she wants to be with me.”

“Smart woman.” He clapped a hand on my shoulder, but then he hit me with the glare I was so familiar with. “And I want no more details ever.”

I laughed. “Fair enough, but I have to say one thing.”

His brow knitted. “What?”

I stopped walking and gave myself a minute to say this right. Because it would probably be the biggest problem in our relationship moving forward. “I’d never say a single bad thing about Avery or ever be mean to her.”

“I know that.” He crossed his arms and frowned at me.

“’Cause that would be really sucky for you to deal with.”

He grunted.

“So it makes sense to you that it’s really hard for me not to throw something at you when you aren’t nice to Gi.”

“Oh.” His eyes narrowed. “Yeah, okay. I get it.” He sighed. “She and I have always butted heads, but I’ll try.”

“Thanks, man.” Still floating on damn air, I followed him to the elevator, and he hit the up button instead of down, where the locker room was.

“Where are we going?”

“I have a meeting with Langfield.” Focus set on the stainless-steel doors in front of us, Chris worked his jaw back and forth. “He asked me to bring you.”

Odd. But whatever. If they wanted me to be their trained monkey today, I was willing.

“Hold it for me.” Kyle trotted over with his jersey bunched in one hand.

“We’re going up,” I warned.

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