“I appreciate that. And same. Side question: are you hiding in an airplane bathroom?”
“Yep,” he says.
“Can you even stand up all the way?”
“I cannot.”
I let out a giggle. “I’ll let you get back to your seat. See you tomorrow?”
“I can’t wait,” he says, then the call disconnects.
I stand and stare at the mirror, fighting my smile. I made Carter jealous. I probably shouldn’t be so happy about that, but I absolutely am.
“What was that all about?” Emerson asks when I return to the living room.
“Oh, nothing. Just me convincing Carter you and I aren’t dating.”
Emerson sits up a little taller like he’s proud of himself. “Wait. A professional hockey player felt threatened byme? I need to write this moment down. I need to tell Jeremy. Was itmy Instagram profile picture? I’ve been told it reads very straight.”
“Stop it,” I say through a laugh. “He’s never seen your photo. But I told him I want to tell you the truth—the whole truth. And it made him wonder.”
“Oh, this sounds dramatic,” Emerson says.
I nod and toss him an extra blanket. “You’d better buckle up. I’ve got a lot to tell you.”
It takesa solid thirty minutes to explain everything. And I meaneverything.From the first time I met Carter to every single interaction we’ve had since. When I get to the part about not going to hockey games, I end up unpacking even more, telling Emerson about my panic attacks and, at least in vague terms, the trauma that triggered them.
He reaches over and squeezes my hand. “I really wish I’d known. I had no idea how much you were dreading going back to Canada.”
“I know. I didn’t really talk about it. I think I was in denial. Which is why I really appreciate what Miles did for me. And Carter—I mean, he’s my literal hero.”
“Sure,” Emerson says. “But you can appreciate both of them and also feel like this is really hard. You’re having to navigate some very complicated emotions.” He tosses me the last half of his croissant. “Here. You need more carbs.”
“Idoneed more carbs,” I say, then I shove the rest of the croissant into my mouth in one giant bite. “This is really good therapy,” I say through a mouthful of crumbs.
“Best kind there is,” Emerson says.
I lick the last of the butter off my fingers. “Can I ask you something?”
“Always.”
“Do you think…it’s fair for me to expect Carter not to date? Or even see other women while we’re together?”
“I mean, you’ll be married,” he says. “Which means if he does, he’ll technically be cheating. Which isn’t a good look when you have a public career like he does. Or like you do, for that matter. Appearances matter for you both.”
“But…no kissing, no dating, no anything for a year. That’s what we’re committing to.”
Emerson gives me a look. “I mean, when was the last timeyoukissed someone?”
I give the question serious consideration because I can’t actually remember. “Probably Diego,” I finally say.
His eyes widen. “Diego, the one you met during our junior year? Sarah, you haven’t been together for at least two years.”
“What? I’ve been busy. I haven’t had time for dating.”
“Then you just made my point. One more year isn’t going to kill you.”
“I’m not worried about me; I’m worried about him. We haven’t talked about this part, so I have no idea what his expectations are. For me or any other women.”
