Page 37 of Puck Love

“Start talking,” I whisper, and sit down besideEmmett.

“Sadie?”

“Yes?”

“It’s Emmett, fromgroup.”

“Hi Emmett fromgroup.”

“Hi.”

Several long seconds pass, and nothing issaid.

“Ask her out,” Iwhisper.

“You wanna goout?”

Sadie hesitates. “Outwhere?”

“Out where?” Emmett asksme.

“Tocoffee.”

“I hate coffee,” he says to me, and I roll myeyes.

“I hate coffee too,” she says from the receiver. I take a deep breath and try not to show my exasperation. Seriously, he hasn’t learned anything good from his brother? How sheltered has Van kept him from the hockey hookers? I guess I can’t fault him for that, but still. I would have thought even a little of Van’s game would have rubbed off onEmmett.

I roll my hands and gesture that he should keep going, and he takes the wrong idea completely. “What do you hate aboutit?”

My shoulders sag in defeat. “Ask her if she wants to go somewhere for a drink that isn’tcoffee.”

Emmett relays the words exactly as I said them. By now, I can feel Van watching usclosely.

A few beats pass, and Emmett tells me Sadie’s asking her mom. Then Emmett hands the phone to me and tells me Mrs. Clark wants to talk. I gulp and press the phone to my ear, deliberately avoiding Van’s gaze. “Hello?”

“Hello? Who is this?” the womansays.

“Oh, I’m er . . . I’m Stella, a familyfriend.”

“Can I speak to Van? He’s such a lovely man, and I’d just feel better knowing he’s on board withthis.”

“Of course. I’ll put him on,” I say, holding the phone out to Van with a pleading expression. He snatches it from my hands, and shakes hishead.

“Please,” Iwhisper.

“Hello, Mrs.Clark?”

I can’t hear what she says on account of him leaving the room, and I glance at Emmett with an “at least we tried” expression, and move closer to theden.

“Yes,” he says with his back to us. “Uh-huh, I agree. I think that’s the only smart thing here. You’ll have to forgive my friend. She gets a little over-excited byromance.”

I scowl, and he turns with a mocking smile. “Yes, that’s for the best. Thankyou.”

He hangs up and my whole body deflates, but I’m angry, too. Why wouldn’t he let his brother have this small bit of happiness? It’s selfish, and just plain mean. I know relationships don’t always come with the same set of obstacles, but denying Emmett the chance to be happy because he has a disability is wrong. In fact, I’m not even sure I can look Van in the eye right now without wanting to punchhim.

I stalk out of the kitchen and through the den toward the staircase, but he grabs my arm and pulls me back. “I hope you’re happy,country.”

“No! I’m not happy. I’m pretty damn far from happy. How could you do that to your ownbrother?”