Page 146 of Whistle

“Well, it’s not going to be you,” Win told him.

Lars muttered something in Swedish that made Win laugh.

Ryan considered things for a few seconds. “We could do the auction without a replacement, but it would mean raising less money.”

“I’m sure someone on the team will do it,” Landry said, gazing around for more swimmers.

“Walsh, you’re up.” Coach decided.

Ryan’s eyebrows rose. “Me?”

“Hell yes. This entire shenanigan was your idea to begin with. It’s only fair you get your flippers up on the stage like the rest of us.”

I glanced at Emmett. What did he mean by us?

“Ryan’s organized the whole thing, Coach. It’s not like he hasn’t done anything,” Wes pointed out.

Coach turned. “Oh, you volunteering, Sinclair?”

Max’s face darkened, and his arm went out in front of Wes like he was some sort of human seat belt. “Absolutely not.”

“Ryan will do it,” Rory announced, drawing everyone’s attention.

“I will?” Ryan seemed amused.

Jamie started making all kinds of noise. “Did you forget the entire conversation we just had, camera girl?”

She rolled her eyes. “I heard every ridiculous bit of it.” Gazing up at Ryan, she said, “And I appreciate you thinking of me, but I’m not so jealous and insecure that you can’t do something for charity.”

“There’s plenty of other Elite?—”

“But you’re the captain.”

“Elite doesn’t have a captain.” Ryan corrected her.

“Unofficial captain.” Emmett chimed in, and everyone drew back as though he’d just announced there’d been a homicide across the room.

“Bros, I think my ears really are damaged from that whistle,” Jamie whispered dramatically. “Because I just heard Coach actually acknowledge Ryan’s importance around here.”

“Oh, for shit’s sake, Owens,” Emmett muttered.

“P, get the camera,” Kruger said, gesturing toward Prism. “We need to document this.”

Emmett sighed loudly. “It’s hardly news that Walsh is the team leader.”

“Well, no, not for us,” Wes allowed. “But you don’t normally agree.”

Emmett glanced at me, so briefly I might not have noticed if I wasn’t so attuned to everything about him. If I wasn’t replaying the conversation we’d had in the pool and how I’d told him everyone loves Ryan because he reminds them of him.

“Well, this is me agreeing that Walsh is the unofficial official captain of Elite,” Coach said.

Everyone was quiet, even motormouth Jamie.

Emmett shifted uncomfortably, reaching up to tug at the tie around his neck. “I know I give you a tough time, Walsh, but I know Elite is better because of you. I don’t ever say it, but maybe I should. So yeah, you’re a good leader.”

God, I wanted to grab him. Wrap myself around his finely swathed waist, push my face between his shoulder blades, and inhale. Emmett was the poster boy for the strong silent type. So reserved sometimes that he appeared to have no emotion at all. It was a trait quickly becoming obsolescent, people looking at those like Emmett with disdain. He could be intimidating and come off as a cold-hearted hard-ass, which, in truth, was my first opinion of him too.

He wasn’t cold at all but an endless well of emotion and experiences and a manifestation of a life filled with pain. And it was that pain that had turned him selective. No. Not selective. Stingy with what parts of himself he showed.

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