“He was also the QB on the team when they went to state.” Someone else in the crowd pipes up.
“Mr. Perfect has a cheering squad,” I growl under my breath.
The boy’s eyes snap open and focus on Jake, even though there’s a hint of haze in them, he gawks. “You’re Jake Thompson?”
Peachy. I glance over my shoulder. Let’s get this over with so I can get out of here before I vomit on my polyester pants. “Dale, give me my kit. Let’s get him wrapped and ready for transport.”
The last thing I want to hear is how wonderful Jake is. Not when I know the real guy.
Chapter Six
Jake
I’ve spent the past four years convincing myself that Emily Grey doesn’t matter. One look at her proved I was wrong.
The moment the boy’s arm is wrapped and secured to his chest, she pats his shoulder. “I know you can walk, buddy, but with the hit you took to your head, I think you need a cool ambulance ride.” She tips her head sideways and arches her eyebrows. “What do you say?”
“Lights and sirens?” The boy mimics her expression.
“Sure.” She grins, and my traitorous heart skips a beat. It shouldn’t be possible, but Emily is even more stunning than she was at eighteen. “I think we can manage that, but the sirens only for a few seconds. We don’t want to worry anyone about your condition.” She glances over her shoulder at her partner. “What do you say, Dale?”
“You’re on.” He winks and clasps the kid’s mother’s upper arm. “Do you have a ride to the hospital?”
“Yes.” The woman’s face is stark as she wrings her hands together.
“Good.” Dale lets go of her arm and wheels the gurney toward us while Emily remains squatted beside the boy.
“You’re in good hands.” She winks playfully at the kid. “Dale here hasn’t had a car accident in two weeks, even though he drives like he’s on a racetrack.” She says the last like they’reconspiring to report him to the police. Which is me. But she’s not telling me anything.
“Really?” Clint’s eyes light up with interest. Yep, he’s all boy and a daredevil. I remember those carefree days.
“I’m teasing. Although he does drive a little crazy.”
“Bummer.” The boy wrinkles his nose.
Dale grips the gurney as he steps on the wheellocks. “Once we get you all patched up, you need to promise no more acrobatics on the park equipment.” The man has a barrel chest and looks like he could plow me over with an outstretched hand and a poke to the chest.
“Yes, Sir.”
Emily’s gaze darts to mine. Her hazel eyes don’t hold an ounce of warmth. “Thank you, Officer Thompson.”
Officer Thompson? Seriously? That’s all I get? I was at her house more than I was at my own during the last two years of high school. We ate dinner together nearly every night, and at least twice a week, we hung out in the living room watching movies.
Anger floods through me. “You’re welcome,Em.”
“Don’t call me that,” she says with a voice that’s barely above a whisper, but the underlying hostility is unmistakable. “I go by Emily now. Or better yet, EMT Grey.”
“It’s nice to see you’re still stomping your foot like a child.”
“I’m not a child.”
“Then stop acting like one.” I rotate my shoulders and straighten my spine. The scent of her perfume swirls around me. Vanilla and jasmine. It used to make me want to bury my face in her hair. Now it makes my stomach turn.
Half the damn town is watching us like we’re tonight’s entertainment.
“Then stop bossing me around,” she snaps. “Once we’re on the scene, we take over. Can you manage to remember that? Or did that four-year degree teach you nothing about staying in your own lane?”
Right. Let it go. You’re not here to rekindle friendships with the locals. You’re here to do your job. I rise from my squatted position and rub my hands over my thighs as they transition Clint to the cart.
