It was different in the light of day, in these familiar surroundings.
Greer glanced back and forth between us. “Hey, Emmett. I think my mom just called my name.”
She widened her eyes meaningfully as she passed me.
“Did she?” I asked.
“Nope,” she said under her breath.
Emmett moved from the doorway so she could leave, a slight smile on his face when he stepped into my bedroom. “You made good time,” he said. “I thought we’d be back before you got here.” He plucked at the front of his shirt. “I was hoping to grab a shower before I saw you. I probably stink.”
I laughed, and there was an edge of panic to it.
Yeah right. Emmett’s sweat probably smelled like sex and a grove of pine trees.
His gaze went to my hands. Where I was clutching three lacy bras.
Carefully, I laid them back in the suitcase. “Must’ve been a good workout then.”
He nodded, eyes tracking over my face. No masks today. No tuxedos. No dresses. And despite my feminine urge to primp a bit more than usual, knowing he’d be here, I managed to leave the hotel with a washed face and a single coat of mascara, and that was it.
And because it’s what I’d packed, I was wearing a Ft. Lauderdale T-shirt over some leggings.
“Nice shirt,” he said.
I smiled. “My brother sent us a bunch of stuff when he signed in Florida. Still feels a bit like I’m cheating on Washington when I wear it, though.”
He hummed. “I understand that far better than you know.”
I chewed on my bottom lip as I tried to figure out how to ask what I wanted to ask. Emmett’s lip curved up on one side.
“Whatever you’re thinking, out with it.”
My eyes widened at how accurately he’d read my expression. “Well … I guess I just always thought you’d want to end up in Washington someday.”
Emmett took another step into my room, and where I was leaning up against my dresser, his shoulder almost brushed mine when he studied the family picture on the wall.
“Everyone thought that,” he said.
“When James retired a couple of years ago, I would’ve bet a lot of my pennies in the bank that Washington would go after you hard to fill the QB spot.”
He didn’t tear his eyes off the picture. “I’m glad you didn’t then.”
It was hard to imagine, coming from the family he did—knowing how much they loved him—that he wouldn’t want to come back home and play there. It was another reminder of just how much I didn’t really know Emmett anymore.
“They wanted to make you an offer, though.”
He gave me a sideways glance. “They did.”
“Not enough zeroes on the paycheck for you?” I asked lightly.
He didn’t laugh, but his eyes sparkled. “If it were only that simple. A lot of things have to happen before a player can transfer teams, if that’s what they want.”
Emmett offered no more information, and when a dozen questions tingled at the tip of my tongue, I just knew it was his evil hot man way of making me want to know more.
But I swallowed all those questions down because I was an adult, and I could control myself, and I didn’t need to pester Emmett for details about why he didn’t move back home to his awesome family and the team they all loved.
“Is that one of the stories you wanted to trade?”
Emmett exhaled a laugh. “Yeah, I suppose. I bet yours are more interesting, though.”