14. Gianna

"Dude, you should totally come," Linc said over his shoulder as he wrapped the wand around a strand of my hair. "It's November, so the season will be over. It's going to be sick. Everyone needs to do Jazz Madrid."

"Spain's on my list."

My stomach had done nothing but somersaults since I'd stepped out of the closet. When I was fully dressed and ready to face my friends, I found Emerson perched on the bed, chatting with Linc about his trip to Spain this fall. Their conversation only paused while Linc dried my hair. During that time, Mila and Em dove into a conversation, though I couldn't hear what they were saying over the noise of the hair dryer. From my vantage point, all I could tell was that they were both chuckling. Not that I was surprised. Positivity oozed from both of them. As soon as he shut the dryer off, Linc was back on Em about Spain.

I hadn't realized Emerson wanted to travel. I hadn't had the time or money to travel much yet, but I had a list too. I wanted to paint the northern lights. See the sun set over the pyramids. Watch the rain run off a heliconia flower.

"And stick men, man," Linc said. "They are a must for a jazz lover."

Emerson's deep chuckle warmed my belly.

"You can't peer pressure him into tagging along with you," Mila warned.

"Oh, I totally can." Linc waved her off.

"Okay. Rephrase." She held up a hand, palm out. "You shouldn't."

"Nah." Emerson waved her off. "I wouldn't be opposed, exactly. I just have to figure some stuff out before I lock much in."

The thread of uncertainty in his voice made my stomach clench. What did that mean?

I turned to ask, but Linc yanked my head back. "Do not move. But let's explain that, Knight, because our girl is curious."

"I am not," I snapped.

Linc cocked a brow, silently calling me a liar. Okay. Fine. Maybe I was.

"It's not a big thing." Emerson shrugged a shoulder, going for nonchalant. "My contract is up at the end of the year. And it's starting to look like Boston isn't going to renew it. So I'll have shit to figure out."

This time when my head whipped toward Emerson, Linc didn't stop me.

"What?" I demanded.

He lifted that shoulder again and set his bowl on the nightstand. Then he stood and cracked his knuckles, avoiding eye contact. "It's okay. I'm not the playmaker or the big bat. The payroll is high, and if they have to cut me to make it work, I get it."

"Idiots." I glared. He wasn't the big bat or the playmaker, but he was fast. And on top of that, he led morale for the team, and the fans loved him. Those things were worth hanging on to.

Two lines formed between his brows, and his throat worked as he swallowed. "They actually aren't, Gi. Miller and Langfield are smart. Honestly, there isn't a better front office in the league. They will do the right thing for the team. I respect that. It just might mean that I'll be moving in November, not going to Spain." He shrugged again. "It comes with the job."

He said it like it didn't matter. But his green eyes were dull, and the smile he shot my way was forced.

"I can't believe they would let you go. Ever," I said, working hard to keep the anger out of my voice.

Emerson's response was another small smile.

Since I'd moved in, he'd done nothing but build me up. Chris had always said his best friend was the biggest supporter to the people around him. The first to congratulate one of the guys on a great play or over personal achievements. He was the guy who'd start a flash dance in the stands to celebrate a teammate's home run. If only he recognized his own self-worth as easily as he did others'. It was a habit I was trying to create, but it was a challenge, and I hated that he had to fight the struggle too.

"Well, this got heavy," Linc announced after a long moment where Emerson and I just stared at each other. "Let's lighten things back up. Two truths and a lie!"

Mila groaned. But he went on before anyone spoke.

"I'm a bottle blond." He released another curl from the wand. "I got Eli's name tattooed on my dick before he even agreed to date me. And?—"

Mila choked on her water, sputtering and coughing as it dripped down her chin.

Yeah, that was a truth. I knew it, and so did she. The shocked response probably had to do with him so easily admitting that insanity to a virtual stranger.

"Three." Linc went on as he spun my hair around the wand. "I've googled you, looking for naked pictures."

Emerson snorted, shaking his head. "Hope you didn't waste too much time on that."

Linc pouted, his lower lip sticking out as he peered over his shoulder. "Oh, I wasted way too much time. Sadly, I didn't find a single one."

"Nah, man." Emerson took a drink of his own water and screwed the cap back on. "I have a younger brother and sisters who look to me for direction. Not to mention all the kids who look up to professional athletes. The last thing I want is to be a shitty example."

From the moment I met him, I'd seen him as a lighthearted goofball, but the more time I spent with him, the more I realized it was a fa?ade. He was so much more. Responsible, thoughtful, compassionate, all while maintaining the ability to make people laugh and feel good about themselves.

Linc patted my shoulder and then fanned himself. "That's like hot dad vibe. Who knew being responsible made my dick wanna cha-cha?"

"Linc," Mila chastised. "Not everyone gets your sense of humor. And the game's over. You're gonna make Emerson uncomfortable."

"Not at all uncomfortable, bebé," Emerson assured her.

Instantly, a pit formed in my stomach. Baby, or at least that's what it sounded like, rolled off his tongue easily and often. He used it on women all the time. Always with the flash of a flirty smile. For years, I never even noticed that he did it. But now, as much as I tried to fight the feeling, it bothered me. I wanted to be on the receiving end of that smile and flirting. Yet he'd never used the term for me.

It wasn't until Linc pulled on my curl and I found his eyes in the mirror that I realized I was pouting over it.

"Nah, I'm still in the relaxed phase of my social life." Emerson chuckled.

I strained to hear every word of the quiet conversation from across the room.

"Makes sense," Mila said. "You have enough pressure with baseball."

"Give me ten years. I'm sure I'll be singing a different tune. Right now, I don't have the bandwidth for something serious."

Linc leaned forward and brought his mouth close to my ear. "Do you hear that, Gi?"

"What?" I whispered, making eye contact in the mirror again.

"That man is primed and ready to be the rebound fling you need to put Jake so far in the review mirror it will be like he never existed." He waggled his brows and shook my shoulder in emphasis.

I scoffed, elbowing him. "Just because he doesn't want a relationship right now doesn't mean he wants a fling with me."

Linc's deep chuckle was evil, and his eyes flashed with mischief. "Biatch, that man almost passed the fuck out when he saw you in your towel robe. Trust me. He wants to experience all the parts of you."

"No he doesn't. Stop it." I locked my jaw, set on shutting him up, but I couldn't stop my eyes from wandering to where Emerson sat on the bed, chatting easily with one of my best friends. As their conversation continued, he glanced my way and smiled, and a minute later, he excused himself to grab his clothes so he could shower.

As soon as the water was flowing in the bathroom, my friends lost their minds.

"Gi," Mila stage whispered, eyes glued to the door like she was afraid he was going to come out. "You totally need to hook up with that guy!"

"I told you," Linc sang, waving the hair wand in front of him.

I sighed, even as a lump lodged itself in my throat. "Stop it."

Ignoring my directive, they kept up with the chatter until the water shut off. Finally, probably worried Emerson would overhear, they shut their traps. But when he opened the door, I couldn't look away. He was dressed in a pair of gym shorts, just like he'd been before, but all his tanned skin glistened, still damp from the shower. His shoulders, tight chest, and six-pack abs were all on display.

For a heartbeat, he stood in the doorway, eyes locked on me. I couldn't drag my attention away as one corner of his mouth kicked up in a smile and he ran a hand over his well-defined chest.

"I'm gonna get dressed." With that, he ambled across the room, and as he passed me, he settled his hot palm over the small strap of my tank top. When he dug his fingers into my skin and squeezed gently, my heart skipped. My breath caught and froze as I stared into his eyes in the mirror. "Looking good, Mariposa."

His deep voice echoed through me, but before I could even react, the warmth of his hand left my skin, and he walked away.

The second the door shut behind him. Linc fanned himself. "I'm telling you—you need to jump that man."

I glared, choking down the desire that single touch had ignited in me. Turning back to the mirror, I forced myself to refocus and let Linc finish before I put on my dress.

When I stepped out of the bathroom in the red satin, both Linc's and Mila's eyes snapped wide.

"Too much?" I skated my hands down the fabric over my hips. The dress was fitted through the hips before the slit up the thigh let the satin flare out to the floor. The dip of the neckline wouldn't be too much on most, but being an F cup since I was thirteen meant that sometimes I had to be careful about the line between hot and too much.

"No, but damn, Emerson might die." Linc laughed.

"Did you do the bend and shake?" Mila gently asked, confirming that I wouldn't fall out of my top.

I nodded. Spanx with supportive cups were my friend.

"Now go out there and convince that man he needs his hands all over your curves." Linc waggled his brows.

I rolled my eyes, but when I walked out of my room into the open living area and found him dressed in his black-on-black suit, it was hard not to want to agree with my friend.

There was fire in Emerson's eyes as they hovered over me. The way they paused at the neckline of my dress, then slowly scanned down to my hips and back up, had my body heating.

He cleared his throat. "You. Are. Gorgeous."

Stomach flipping, I stepped closer. In that moment, it felt as if he wanted me. But in the next second, he spoke, and the words were like a bucket of ice water poured over my head. "The idiot ex is going to hate himself, and I'll play my part to make him jealous."

A lump formed in my throat. Was that all it was to him? Oh course. That was what he'd agreed to do. So I pulled my shoulders back, harnessing my don't fuck with me vibe and shielding myself against the emotions threatening to ravage me.

"Ready?" I asked.

He watched me carefully for a minute, his expression thoughtful, before he nodded and turned to my friends. "It was nice meeting you both. If you want to hang here, feel free."

"We're headed back to the hotel to change, then going bar hopping." Linc rubbed his hand together. "Need to find my girl a hookup."

"It's funny how we have such different plans for the same night." Mila's eyes were bright as she turned to us. "Have fun."

"I left my keys if you need them," I said with a quick hug to Linc. After I wrapped Mila in a hug too, Emerson opened the door and ushered me into the hall.

He was quiet on the elevator, cracking his knuckles and keeping his focus fixed on the number panel in front of him. I'd never seen him this nervous.

Once we settled back into the black Mercedes, I broke the silence. "You okay?"

He nodded and cleared his throat. "I've just never done a formal event like this before."

I frowned. Never? Chris did them all the time. "How is that possible?"

He rubbed his hands on his pants and then looked at me out of the corner of his eye. "The team usually calls on me for the funny stuff, like a pie in the face. I'm not the guy who goes to the big-ticket fundraisers. And you—" He took me in, his gaze searing me as he looked his fill. He forced a swallow and met my eyes. "You are so beautiful it makes my chest hurt."

My heart squeezed in response to the quiet comment. Beautiful wasn't a word I heard a lot. Pretty or curvy, maybe. But no one called me beautiful. Cheeks heating with a combination of embarrassment and pleasure, I reached up to touch my hair before I remembered that Linc had done it. The last thing I wanted was to mess it up.

"Sorry," Emerson said, his face set in an earnest frown. "I just want to be a good date, not the dumbass who crashes into a table or tells a stupid joke. I just want you to be proud that I'm the guy on your arm."

That caused a totally different kind of pang in my chest. Every line on his face was etched with worry. It was a look I'd never seen on the always smiling man. "Emerson," I whispered, grasping his hand. His fingers were long and firm as they wrapped around mine. "Just be you, and we'll have a good time." When the worry in his expression didn't ease. I added, "I don't think you're a dumbass at all—I just really like hanging out with you."

That's all it took for the crease between his brows to disappear and his shoulders to lower. In the space of a breath, his eyes were back to shining with the sparkle that was so intrinsically Emerson.

"I like you too, Gianna," he said softly, squeezing my hand.

Those words, coming from the guy who was just my fake date for the night, settled way too deep in my chest.