“Wait, you weren’t prom king? I don’t believe it. With a face like that?”
“Was it the fact that you’re my only visitor that gave it away?” He’s so matter-of -fact that it nearly breaks my heart.
Afraid he’d mistake empathy for pity, I hide it behind a teasing tone when I lean over him from behind, asking, “Are you allergic to people? I have a brother like that.”
The elevator doors slide open to light spilling in from the courtyard windows.
“Something like that,” he says, glancing back at me as the wheels rattle over the gap in the elevator.
Bumping the button at my hip, I wait as the automatic door to the courtyard opens in front of us.
Fresh mountain air swirls around us and carries the sharp scent of pine. For a minute, neither of us says anything. I’m too lost in the way Emmett tips his face to the sky, soaking it all in.
When the silence stretches, I find myself needing to ask the question that’s been eating at me. “Does this aversion to people have anything to do with your nightmares?”
“A flight nurse, a night nurse, and a psych nurse. Do you ever rest?”
“No, not really,” I admit. “I’ve been accused of being a bit of a workaholic.”
Maybe my own admission will earn me one from him.
“Seems we have that in common.”
Not as telling as I’d hoped for, but I’m not a quitter.
“I imagine the unpredictability that comes with being a hotshot can make it difficult to maintain relationships during the season.”
Although, I suspect keeping people at a distance is what Emmett does year round.
“Nah, this is who I am. It’s not the job,” he says darkly.
Talk about a loaded statement.
I can’t fathom anyone wanting to be as isolated as he seems to be. Drake’s circle is a pinpoint, but he has support—friends and family who would show up if my brother were in the hospital. They’d be there whether or not he wanted them to, and he’d have to fight them to leave.
“Is that supposed to scare me off?”
“There’s a reason I don’t have any visitors, Aspen.”
His voice runs cold, sending a shiver down my spine.
“I don’t have friends. My family is gone—they can’t be replaced. And even if they could, I’m better off alone.”
That stops me in my tracks.
Heat singes my cheeks, and I’m not sure if it’s embarrassment, anger, or a mix of the two.
Anger on his behalf, at him, and maybe even at myself.
For caring more than I should again.
He’s hurting. And as hard as he tries to hide it, I see it in his eyes.
God, it’s frustrating—he’sfrustrating.
In the end, it’s the anger that pushes me forward. Like Emmett, Drake believes he’s better off alone. I might not have any real ties to Emmet, but the way he writes himself off enrages me just the same.
I don’t cower and I won’t be embarrassed for caring. Not when he clearlyneedssomeone on his side.
