Page 127 of Reputation (Tempt)

I sensed hesitation, even if she wouldn’t admit it. And I’d seen the look on her face on the track today—fear, anxiety, and so much more. I didn’t want to make things worse for Emerson, but if I didn’t say something, who would? Her dad sure as shit wasn’t going to. And I had a feeling Papa J and Astrid weren’t willing to risk getting in the middle of them.

“Look, I hate to ask, but are you sure about this?”

She jerked her head back. “I haven’t worked this hard for this long to pull out at the last minute.”

“But you heard the doctor, and stress and…” We still didn’t have any answers. She’d seen an allergist and another specialist, and no one could tell us anything.

She scoffed. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“No. I’m not kidding. I’m worried about you, and it feels as if I’m the only one willing to say what needs to be said.”

“Nate.” She held up a hand. “I’m not having this conversation with you. Not right now.”

“If not now, then when?” I asked. Tomorrow, it might be too late. “What is it going to take for you to stop? You landed in the hospital. You had a panic attack at Knox’s.”

Her gaze whipped to me. “You know about that?”

“Seriously?” I glared at her. “That’s what you’re upset about right now?”

“No. I’m upset that you’re questioning my ability to compete the night before the race. I’m pissed that you have the audacity to try to tell me what to do.” She hurled the words with such force, they might as well have been the shot put.

“I’m not…” I huffed.

“Yes, you are. And if you care about me, you’ll drop this,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Drop this? You look two seconds away from passing out. Em.” I sighed, trying to get my emotions under control. “Am I supposed to stand by and watch while you self-destruct?”

Emerson’s body had been sending her messages for months—telling her to stop. To reduce her stress. And yet, she’d continued to ignore those signs. I worried that if she kept pushing, she’d hurt herself even worse. I worried the competition would finally push her over the edge and I’d lose her for good.

“You don’t know what I’m capable of. I’ve competed with broken bones. And I never let it stop me before.”

“This isn’t about what you’re capable of,” I said, softening my tone. Wishing I could get through to her. Wishing I could make her understand. “Because I know you’re strong. You’re one of the strongest people I know. But you’ve told me time and again that you don’t want to do this. Yet your dad keeps pushing and pushing and pushing.”

She shook her head, disappointment written across her face. “And you’re no different.”

“That’s not fair.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m worried about you. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

Perhaps it wasn’t the best timing, but she could still pull out. And why did she even care? We both knew she was ready to retire. Why risk it?

She grabbed her suitcase and started throwing stuff into it. It wasn’t long before she zipped it up.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“I can’t deal with this right now.” She headed for the door. “I need to focus. Tomorrow’s my last race, and I can’t afford to have any distractions right now.”

I wanted to blame her outburst on a case of pre-race nerves, but it felt like more than that. It felt as if she was slipping away.

“Em,” I pleaded, rushing to catch up to her. To stop her. “I wasn’t trying to upset you.”

“Really? Because right now, it feels like you’re more concerned with proving my father wrong than caring about what I want.”

It wasn’t the first time we’d argued about her dad. But I’d tried to keep my opinions to myself. He was her coach, but not for much longer.

I gnashed my teeth.Seriously?“How amIthe bad guy here?He’sthe one pushing you to do something you don’t even want.”

“It’s my last event,” she said. “I made a promise. And regardless of the outcome, I’m going to give it my all. This is my decision, and if you can’t accept that, don’t bother coming tomorrow.”

“What?” I choked on the word. “Emerson, wait.” I grabbed her wrist. “I’m sorry, okay? I just…” I huffed, pulling her to me. I held her close once more. Wishing I could change her mind. Protect her. Wishing I couldknowthat she’d never leave me.

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