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“About what?” As usual, his face was blank.
“Asking you to lie.” She shrugged.
“You didn’t ask. I didn’t lie.” His gaze met hers. “They asked me if there was someone special.”
She blinked. “But you saw—”
“Brock?” His eyes narrowed. “Off the field, he’s not all that special. How well do you know him, Emmy Lou? He’s divorced from a supermodel with a rap sheet that includes shoplifting and possession.”
She knew about the divorce. The rest? No. “Um…”
“Did you know he’s recovering from a serious drug problem?” He crossed his arms over his chest. “That his addiction was so bad his team had to stage an intervention?”
The drug problem, yes. The intervention, no.
“Did you know he ran his car into a median, and he was so high he didn’t even realize he’d dislocated his arm until two days later?”
He’d dislocated his arm? She remembered the pictures of his Ferrari wrapped around that concrete median all too clearly.
“Drug Free Like Me was his court-appointed community service.”
At this point, she felt the need to defend Brock. “In the beginning, maybe—”
“He’s a good football player. But I’m not so sure he’s a good person.” He shook his head, the barest traces of frustration evident. “Not good enough for you.”
Emmy Lou was terrible at reading people—men especially. Travis thought it was hysterical. Krystal found it annoying. But right now, she was getting some definite non-bodyguard vibes from Sawyer. The way he was looking at her, how intense he was…
Why did this matter so much to him?
Unless… No… Did Sawyer have feelings for her? No. No way.
“I care about you, Emmy Lou. I don’t want to see you get hurt. I’ve never met anyone so willing to trust and give.” He stared up at the ceiling. “People take advantage of that. Especially people needing a comeback—people like Brock.”
She was so stunned her words all ran together. “Sawyer, it means a lot that you care. It does. I care about you, too. You’re more like…like a grumpy big brother. Someone who always has my back. Or tells me the truth. Or lets me use them as a human crutch.” She sucked in a deep breath. “But if you’re trying to say you have feelings for me…I should let you know I don’t feel that way about you. I’m sorry.”
Sawyer stared at her, his blue-green gaze fixed on her. “No, Emmy Lou.” A short laugh escaped. “Let me make myself perfectly clear. I have no romantic feelings for you. At all.” He opened his mouth, then shut it. With another shake of his head, he walked away, and Emmy headed back into her bedroom.
“I thought you were getting me water?” Krystal asked.
“Oh, sorry.” She was still nibbling on the inside of her lip. What was that? What did Sawyer have against Brock? Why was he being so protective?
“What?” Krystal asked.
She glanced at Jace and Travis, completely tuned out and invested in the song they were working on. “I think…I think Sawyer might like me.”
Krystal nodded. “Of course, he likes you. Everyone likes you.”
“No, I mean like me,” she whispered. “You know?”
“Oh.” Krystal shook her head. “Let’s go play with your hair.”
“We just did my hair,” she argued.
Krystal tugged her back into the bathroom and closed the door. “I need you to not freak out over what I’m about to tell you, okay?” Krystal took her hands, waiting just long enough for Emmy to nod. “I’ve hinted at it. A lot. Maybe it won’t be too big a shock. It’s not hard to see, really. Give Trav Daddy’s hair and eye color and a ton more muscles and you get…Sawyer.”
She stared at Krystal, stunned. “Wait…” The weird tics and postures that Travis, their father, and Sawyer shared. It all crowded in on her, clicking into place. “Are you saying Sawyer is our brother?” She paused. “That’s why you were asking Daddy about his first love…Sawyer’s mother?”
“I’m guessing so.” Krystal nodded. “Sawyer and I have talked. I told him I knew but I’d keep his secret. For whatever reason, he hasn’t owned up to who he is or tried to talk to me or you or anyone about it. Daddy has no idea.”
