Page 56 of Check & Chase
“Hence the torture session today.”
She smiles, the tension breaking. “Exactly. Someone has to save you from yourself, Mitchell.”
“Lucky me,” I deadpan, but I mean it more than she knows.
Emma checks her watch. “I have another patient in five minutes. We’ll talk more tonight?”
“Looking forward to it, Blondie.”
Back in the locker room, I check my phone to find several missed texts. One from Emma catches my attention.
Emma:Costumes tonight?
I smile, typing back.
Me:Definitely costumes. I’m going as an injured hockey player. Very convincing, I’ve been practicing for weeks.
Emma:Very funny. Seriously, Chase.
Me:Seriously, wear whatever you want. It’s casual.
I hesitate, then add:
Me:Though if you want to coordinate couples costumes, I’m open to suggestions. Bonnie and Clyde? Morticia and Gomez? Rapunzel and Flynn?
Emma:We’re not that kind of couple. See you tonight.
I grin, tucking my phone away. Fake or not, I’m looking forward to tonight more than I care to admit.
Which brings me to the uncomfortable realization that’s been hovering at the edges of my mind since our dinner last night: this might be fake for Emma, but my feelings are veering dangerously toward genuine.
I like her. Not just physically, though that attraction hasn’t faded. I like her sharp wit, her professionalism, the fierce dedication she brings to her work. I like how she calls me on my bullshit, how she doesn’t let me charm my way out of recovery.
I even like her grumpiness and the softness underneath.
It’s a complication I didn’t anticipate when I suggested this arrangement. And one I’m not ready to examine too closely.
Donovan interrupts my thoughts, walking over with a grin. “So, how’d the session go with your fake girlfriend?”
I flip him off. “Strictly professional, smartass.”
“Sure. So, Emma’s coming tonight?”
“That’s the plan.”
“Good. Anna likes her. Says she’s got substance, unlike some of the women you’ve dated.”
“Ouch. Emma’s different.”
“I noticed,” Donovan observes, giving me a searching look. “Just be careful, man.”
“I’m always careful,” I assure him.
“Right.” He clearly doesn’t believe me. “Well, party starts at eight. Bring beer, and maybe try not to piss off Tyler any more than you already have.”
“No promises. But I’ll be on my best behavior if he is.”
My phone buzzes again as Donovan leaves.
