by Tia Souders
“Uh, no,” Emmett said.
She glanced over and noticed his defiant stance, along with the distasteful way he eyed her trusty-rusty pal.
“Uh, yeah,” Jinny said. “If I have to endure this trip with you, we’re doing it on my terms and taking my car.”
Emmett snickered. “You call that thing a car?”
“If you recall, this wasn’t my idea. So, the choice is yours. You can ride with me in this, or you can book yourself a cushy first-class flight to Vegas on a coffin-in-the-sky and leave me to drive in peace.”
Emmett narrowed his eyes. The muscle in his jaw ticked as she stared, unwavering. She would not concede. No way was she riding the whole way in his car. His car, his rules. And she was not letting him call the shots. The second she relented and stepped foot inside his domain, it would be like stepping into the lion’s den.
The irritation in Emmett’s eyes cleared and he smiled. “Okay. We’ll do it your way. Your car it is.”
Jinny flashed him a victorious smile.
He rounded to the back of his Mercedes, and the trunk magically opened. Whether it was with telekinesis or a remote, she had no idea. With Betsy, she had to jam her key into a rusted lock and give it a thump first.
He reached inside and retrieved a giant duffle bag before the trunk slowly closed again, like magic.
Jinny huffed and unlocked her trunk. She bumped it with her hip, gave it a hard thump with her fist, and—voila—it popped open. Er…it was supposed to pop open, anyway.
She jammed her hip against it again, turning her key. Come on!
Emmett stopped next to her, fighting a smile. “Need some help?”
Jinny grunted as she curled her fingers under the lid of the trunk and yanked with all her might, grunting with the exertion.
“Sometimes, she just…gets…a little…stuck…” She gave it one last hip-bump, and it popped open, the force of it knocking her off-balance. She stumbled back as Emmett dropped his bag inside. Then he yanked her suitcase off the pavement, before she could grab it herself, and plunked it down beside his, not bothering to be careful.
“Easy there,” Jinny warned, catching her balance. “She’s not as young as she used to be.”
Emmett snorted. “Really. I never would’ve guessed.”
Jinny rounded the car and got in, with Emmett following suit. Once they were settled, she pulled out onto the road and switched the radio on. The staticky sound of the only station she got blared through the speakers.
“How about you drive two hours, and then I’ll drive a few more before we stop for the night,” Emmett suggested, tugging on his seatbelt as if testing its efficacy.
Jinny opened her mouth to argue, but a wave of fatigue swept over her. She had really needed a good night’s sleep.
Sighing, she said, “Fine. But I pick the hotel. We’re not staying at the Four Seasons or whatever stuffy, ritzy place you’re used to.”
“Deal. See? Look how nicely we’re getting along.”
Jinny glanced over at him, a smile tugging the corner of her mouth. “Don’t push it, Hall. You and I both know it’s only a matter of time before we’ll be going at it.” The words spilled out of her mouth before she could mop them back up. But boy did she wish she had an industrial-sized Swiffer.
Going at it? Nice choice of words, Hemmingway.
Emmett’s gaze flicked to her. Flames engulfed her cheeks.
She refused to look at him. She didn’t need to see his face to know that slow, trademark smile had consumed him. “Was that a Freudian slip?”
“Ha-ha. You wish.”
He opened his mouth to reply, but her arm shot out and she quickly muffled his words with her fingers. “Just. Don’t,” she said as they pressed over his lips.
He vibrated with laughter as she removed her hand. She made a show of grimacing as she wiped her fingers on his t-shirt, even as her heart fluttered in her chest.
She took the ramp onto the interstate. Betsy was a small space to begin with, but with Emmett in the seat beside her, it felt like a Matchbox car. His presence loomed. The musky scent of his aftershave surrounded her. Every move, every sound that escaped his lips, had her hyperaware of his presence.
Jinny had never let her fear of flying inhibit her. She was a good driver and a contented passenger. If she wasn’t driving, she could easily spend days in a car finding things to occupy herself with—a snack, a nap, a magazine, the radio. Emmett, on the other hand, hadn’t stopped fidgeting. In only twenty minutes, he had adjusted the volume knob on the radio, rolled his window up, then down, and played with his phone. At the moment, he was occupying himself with angling his body toward her and drumming the fingers of his left hand on the center console.
Without warning, she flattened his left hand with her right. “Must you make so much noise? Why don’t you take a nap?”
He shook his head. “I’m busy.”
“Doing what? Annoying me?”
“Trying to figure out the silent ways of Jinny Kimball.”
“Here’s a tip. Don’t.”
Emmett grinned, then glanced around the confines of the car, pausing on the droopy material of the ceiling and the missing buttons on her dash. He pointed at the gaping hole next to the defrost button. “Hope that one wasn’t important.”
“It’s just the button for my hazards. I don’t need it.”
Emmett guffawed. “In this thing? I beg to differ.”
He glanced around him some more, touching nearly every surface like a man from Mars, taking everything in. He likely realized the lever to recline his seat was broken and that the fabric of his seat was ripped, the stuffing inside poking through.
“You know, I know you don’t have the salary of an NBA player, but I would’ve thought they paid you pretty decent for being the team therapist.”
“They do. But I only got my first paycheck this past week, and I’d like to save a little more before I go blowing it on a new car. Besides, Betsy is perfectly able to meet all my needs. Cars are a waste of money.”
Emmett raised a brow. “Betsy? She has a name?”
Jinny nodded.
Emmett whistled. “Car is a strong word. But it has four tires, I’ll give you that.”
Four bald tires, Jinny mused. Of course, she kept that information to herself.
“Let me guess…” She glanced at him as she switched lanes. “After you got your first paycheck, you went out and blew it on something extravagant. I bet you’re the type that thinks saving money is a waste. Why make it if you’re never going to spend it. Am I right?”
Emmett stretched his arms then placed his hands behind his head. “Wrong,” he said, surprising her. “I had a decent car. It had all its buttons and didn’t need staples to keep the ceiling material from flopping in my eyes. So, I kept that. I didn’t get a new car until this year, and though my apartment does have a nice view, it’s small. The only reason I bought it was for the view, in fact. I save most of what I earn.”
“Even though you could easily buy twenty fancy cars and not break the bank? All that money, and you don’t blow it?” He was arrogant and a showboat. No way he didn’t blow it on expensive things to feed his ego.
He shrugged. “I made the team, knowing the odds. I’m great at what I do,” he said, his lips curling. “But most of us don’t have a lengthy career. Chances are I’ll play a handful of years, ten if I’m lucky, and then I’m out. What’s the point in blowing all my money so that I’m broke afterward? What does that accomplish? I have everything I need to make me happy.”
She stared at him in openmouthed shock. Even Dean was more extravagant than Emmett. If she’d heard this from someone else, she wouldn’t have believed it. But she could see the sincerity in his expression.
“So many guys do that—celebrities, athletes, musicians—and it just irritates me,” he said. “It’s like, you were blessed with this amazing opportunity and given more than you’d ever need or want, and now you’re trying to say you’re broke? What ab
out the rest of America? The world, for that matter. No one wants to hear them crying over money. It’s the most obnoxious thing.”
“So, what was the first thing you did when you got paid.”
“As soon as I signed my contract, I paid off the mortgage on my father’s house.”
Jinny swallowed and stared out at the road. “You paid off your dad’s house?”
Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the way he nodded then stared out the window. “He deserved it. He worked hard raising five boys by himself. It couldn’t have been easy. I owe him a lot more than what my wallet could ever give him.”
Gosh, why was that so unbelievably…sweet and kind and…
“The next thing I did was hire a financial advisor to come up with an investment plan,” he added.
“Impressive.”
Emmett tipped his chin toward her. “How much did that admission just cost you?”
Jinny laughed. “I can give a compliment when it’s due.”
Emmett hummed in response. “Lately, I worry that I knew, deep down, I’d only get two years. Like a part of me had some sick sense that I’d get injured as a rookie and be out.”
Jinny shifted in her seat. She could handle jovial Emmett, sarcastic Emmett, and even flirtatious Emmett, but this vulnerable version of him—that was only showing itself inside the walls of her car—it was dangerous.
“That’s crazy. You don’t really think that, do you?” she asked.
Emmett said nothing. He stared at the road before answering. “Not really. But I can’t say I don’t worry that it’s true. About every single day, I worry I’ll get traded, wind up sitting the bench, and dropping off the NBA’s radar altogether.”
“Good thing you have the best sports therapist to ever walk the earth.”
Emmett snorted. “And you thought I had a big ego.”
“Maybe both of us deserve our egos.”
“Is that a roundabout way of saying I’m a good ball player?” he asked, his tone teasing.
“You know you are,” she mumbled under her breath. “Anyway, we’re both good at what we do. Why not own it?”
“Touché.”
∞∞∞
After their conversation, Emmett began fidgeting again. He flicked open the center console, where he found her old Pitt ID, which he examined far too closely for her liking.
He pulled out a hairband. “How many of these things do you have?” he asked, flicking it back into the console. “I think I saw two on the floor, and there’s one in your cup holder, one in the door…” His voice trailed off. “Do you shed them?”
“They get lost easily,” Jinny said in defense. She plucked one out of the spare change flap and braced the steering wheel with her knees as she pulled her hair up. She turned to him with a smug smile.
He smiled and shook his head, then opened her glove box, where he pulled out a couple old ticket stubs and a handful of crumpled paper. Behind those odds and ends, she glimpsed her spare tampons.
She felt her face flush, and she reached across him, snapping the glove box shut before he could pull them out and ask some ridiculous question regarding her choice of feminine products.
“Must you be so nosy?” she asked, but he ignored her, staring at the ticket stubs with wide eyes.
Which ones were they? She racked her brain.
“One Direction?” He held the stubs out, aghast.
Jinny tipped her chin up in defiance. “Don’t judge. They have some good songs.”
“Who are you, and what have you done with Jinny Kimball?”
“Ha-ha. Funny. What? I can’t like a boy band?”
“Sure, you can. I suppose. It’s just that they sing all these cheesy love songs, and I’m just wondering where the girl who loves horror movies and action flicks went? The one who’d rather eat tar than watch a rom-com.”
She screwed up her face. “Trust me. She’s alive and well and getting sick of this conversation.”
He laughed. “Fine.”
He lapsed into silence, but not before the crinkling of paper filled the car. Jinny glanced over to where he had smoothed out the notebook paper he’d found in her glove box. With a jolt of shock, she lunged toward it. “Give me that!”
“What? Why?” He glanced over at her, holding the paper as far away from her reach as possible.
How long were his blasted arms?
She made another lunge for it, but he yanked it away at the last minute as the car swerved and ran over the rumble strips. Behind her, a car honked.
Emmett laughed, infuriating her. He had one hand on the wheel, while his other continued to hold the paper out of reach. “Maybe you should keep your hands and eyes on the road.”
Jinny placed both hands back on the wheel. It would be just her luck to go to her death with him beside her. “That’s private,” she said, glancing from him to the road.
“You’re not making me want to look at it any less.”
“It’s just…notes from my latest gynecology appointment.”
He pulled a face that was almost comical. He held it away from his body, staring at it dubiously. “They have notes for that?” Then his eyes narrowed.
Sweat beaded on her brow.
“My name is on it,” he said, glancing back to her. His brow furrowed while she tightened her hands on the wheel, her knuckles turning white.
Maybe if she acted calm and cool, he wouldn’t notice. Her mouth thinned as she pressed her lips closed.
“Hmm…what is it that you don’t want me to see. Let’s read it, shall we?”
Emmett finished smoothing out the paper on his hip. At this point, Jinny didn’t even make a play for it. It was too late. He’d already set his sights on it, and taking it from him now would only make him more intrigued. With her luck, he’d assume it was some sort of love note. Besides, all she had done was a little research. Any good therapist would’ve gone to those lengths to assuage the concerns of a particularly troubled patient.
Only Emmett hadn’t been particularly troubled, had he? Not beyond the scope of reason. But still…
“Kyle Lowry suffered from a torn ACL in college and went on to excel in the NBA. Most would never know he tore his ACL, and he shows no signs of slowing down. Al Harrington tore his ACL after four years in the league. After reconstructive surgery, he returned to the game even stronger than before his injury. He delivers consistent numbers and has played fourteen seasons and is now thirty-two years old. David West was taken off the court in a wheelchair, following his tear. Despite gruesome reports of his severe injury, he returned to the game a year later.” Emmett paused in his reading, silent as he glanced over at her.
She refused to meet his eye.
“Jamal Crawford, Jason Smith, Baron Davis… There must be fifteen guys listed on this thing. All torn ACL’s, all fully recovered, some having rebounded even stronger.”
Jinny cleared her throat. “I was going to give it to you, but then I…” Her voice trailed off. Why hadn’t she given it to him?
“When did you write this up?”
She hesitated. Did she tell him the truth?
With a sigh, she said, “Shortly after that first appointment. You were upset and worried about your chances, about being traded and—”
“I know everything I said. And I was rude to you.”
Jinny nodded, saying nothing. Her throat went tight. Suddenly, she couldn’t speak.
“And despite the things I said, you went home and researched these success stories for me. Why?” He peered over at her.
She met his eye for only a second before glancing away again. She lifted one shoulder then let it fall. “I wanted to give you hope, inspiration, comfort.” She screwed up her face. “I don’t know.”
Gosh, why was she so bad at this? Sharing feelings and being…open…only seemed to be difficult with him. Why?
“Because you like me.” His smug voice sent a twinge through her chest.
“No, definitely not.”
“Yup. You do. Just admit it.”
“Never.”
“I was rude to you, yet you still went on to find something to comfort me. But then you chickened out and didn’t give it to me because you were afraid I’d see right through it.”
She gasped, turning to him. “I was being a good therapist.”
“Uh-huh.”
Emmett leaned against the passenger-side door and crossed his arms over his chest, looking supremely proud of himself. With any luck, the door would fly open and he’d go tumbling out.
“So, did you do this for Taylor and his twisted ankle?” he asked.
Jinny scoffed. “It was a twisted ankle! Big difference between an ankle sprain and a torn ACL.”
“Okay, whatever you say.”
“Stop it.”
“Stop what?” he asked.
“That. That grin you have on your face. Like you know what you’re talking about when you so clearly do not.”
“Okay, fine. I’ll stop smiling.” He mashed his lips closed.
“I can still see your dimples.”
His mouth curled slightly at the corners, and his dimples deepened.
Jinny turned her attention back to the road, fighting the full-body flush she had going. She had nothing to be embarrassed about. Emmett was wrong. She would’ve made that list for anyone. So what if she spent her free time Googling and writing notes. That was prior to the Fourth of July kiss, to him barging in on her family festivities. Since then, she no longer wanted to console him.
After a moment, he said, “I just want you to know how touched I am that you care. The feeling’s mutual.”
She risked a glance at him out of the corner of her eye. Biting her lip, she drove in silence.
CHAPTER sixteen
Jinny
Jinny chewed the gummy bears she bought at the rest stop and stared out the window as Emmett took the wheel. He guided them back onto the highway, and Jinny shifted in her seat, trying to get comfortable.
