Page 137 of Play the Game

It slips right out of my hand and onto the bed.

I look down at it and repeat what he just said to me inside my head.

Did he?

Emory is still staring at me when I pull the phone upright again. In complete denial, I take a breath and quietly ask, “Who’s with you?”

“Not a soul,” he says, leaning back onto his locker.

“Show me,” I challenge, unsure if I believe him.

The camera pans around the empty locker room, and my mouth runs dry. When his face comes back into view, he raises an eyebrow at me. “I didn’t say it for anyone but you, Scottie.”

“You’re not falling in love with me,” I say.

He nods. “You’re right.”

I pinch my thigh to distract myself from the complete and utter disappointment I feel. But then he smiles. “I’m already there.”

My mouth parts, and something warm buries itself inside my chest.

“Olson! Get back to your reps!”

Emory’s attention shifts, and he flicks his chin at his coach before looking back at me. “I’ll see you later. Good luck today, and that camera is a gift. There are no take-backs.”

Emory stands and begins to move through the locker room.

“Wait!” I shout.

Emory’s eyebrows shoot to his damp hair.

“I love you too.” The four words flow out of my mouth effortlessly, but I’m not surprised.

I’ve known that I’ve loved him for far longer than I’m willing to admit.

And with the look he gives me, I think he’s known too.

Fifty-Six

EMORY

“Scottie didn’t come?”I brush my mom’s hand away as she attempts to push a strand of my damp hair out of my face. “I was hoping she would.”

Me too.

“She couldn’t.” I’m eager to brag about Scottie, even if it’s just to my parents. “She had to work.”

“Work? I didn’t realize she had a job. Though, we didn't really get to chat much about that yet. You’ve been so secretive about her, and your father made her uncomfortable already, so I didn’t want to press.”

My dad stops talking with Rhodes to interject. “I didn’t make her uncomfortable.”

Rhodes only came over to let me know that the bus was leaving in ten to head back to the airport, but he got caught in the Jay-and-MaryAnn trap, and now he’s knee deep in a conversation with my dad about home improvement.

“You did too,” my mom argues. She turns back to me, and it’s clear she wants to know more about Scottie.

“Scottie is a photographer. An amazing one.”

Shortly after she was asked to photograph for the clothing shop, Vivian asked her to take Nola’s photos, and Georgia isbegging her to take her and Matt’s engagement photos plus cover their wedding. Since Scottie absolutely refuses to let me help with her brother’s legal fees, I’ve been encouraging her to take every opportunity given, even if she doesn’t feel like a “professional”—her words, not mine.

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