Page 14 of Whistle

“Landry can run it while we’re gone.”

He nodded.

“And you will owe me extra laps when we get home,” I added.

He half smiled. It was the first sign of the Rush I knew since we’d hung up the phone.

“Go on,” I said, gruff, heading to the living room for my laptop. I wasn’t about to book plane tickets on a cell phone.

“Co—Emmett?” Rush called.

I stopped and looked over my shoulder.

“He’s not my friend anymore.” It seemed really important that he remind me of that. Or maybe he was reminding himself.

“It’s okay to want to help him, son.”

“Brynne would want me to.”

My heart clenched. “Yeah.” I agreed. “She probably would.”

This was just further proof this kid had a gaping heart buried beneath the chip on his shoulder. He didn’t owe any of these people anything. Hell, they owed him. But here he was, unable to turn his back.

He stood there a minute longer as though he wasn’t sure how to break free from the moment.

“Go on,” I said, gruff. “Go back to bed before I decide I’m tired of you shacking up with my daughter.”

“I’m not shacking up with her,” he retorted. “I love her.”

I turned away and smiled. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Hey, Coach.”

“Emmett.” I reminded him.

“Emmett.”

“What now?” I bitched.

“Thank you.”

The two words caught me off guard. Probably one of the only times he’d said them.

“You’re welcome,” I replied, feeling like shit. Yes, I was going to support Rush, but it was also a damn good excuse to put eyes on Bodhi.

He’s too young for you. Damaged. Nothing but pure trouble.

That only makes me want him more.

Rush started up the stairs, and I opened my laptop. “I’m booking you the seat at the very back of the plane. Next to the bathroom. Better pack nose plugs.”

“Forget it. I’ll go alone,” he called.

I pulled up the screen to book the earliest tickets I could find.

I should have let Rush go alone.

I wasn’t going to.

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