Page 111 of Blitzing Emily

“Have you slept or eaten at all since you left Seattle? Your clothes are hanging on you. There are dark purple circles under your eyes.”

Emily pulled away from her sister’s probing eyes. “I’m fine.” She moved into the kitchen. “How are you doing?”

“Better than you are, I think,” Amy muttered.

They sipped beer and talked a little while they waited for the broadcast to start. Of course, there was only one topic.

“Emily, he’s not that guy. He wants to be with you. He’s not going anywhere.” Amy shook her head. “I’ve never heard of a preemie weighing almost ten pounds, either. That’s weird.”

“Brandon said both he and Dylan weighed ten pounds when they were born,” Emily said. “Maybe he lied. Maybe he’s been lying for a long time now.”

She couldn’t forget the fact she’d risked her heart, again. It hadn’t gone well before. She didn’t think she could recover from another guy who cheated, lied about it, and then asked her who she believed—him, or her lying eyes.

“You know that condoms fail. Birth control fails. Accidents happen.” Amy shook her head. “Em, he would never do this to you on purpose.”

“Here’s a question.” Emily turned to face her sister. “How do we know that?”

“You’re kidding. You must have me confused with someone who didn’t have a ringside seat for this whole thing. He’s told you he doesn’t cheat. I was a little worried when you guys first started going out, but he’s shown you over and over that he chose you. Brandon’s a freaking prince, and you can’t believe him?” Amy wrapped her arms around herself. “When are you going to finally evict James from your head?”

“This has nothing to do with him.”

Amy cut her off. “Oh, yes it does.” They glared at each other.

“You don’t understand.”

“No, Em.Youdon’t understand.” Silence fell. Amy took a long swig of beer. Emily stared mutely at the television.

She and Brandon’s entire relationship started on a lie. She wondered when—and if—she could learn to trust.

The color commentators were talking about different players before the game started, and of course they talked about Brandon.

“You know, guys, Brandon McKenna may be a bit distracted this evening,” one of them said. “Anastasia Lee announced a few minutes ago through her publicist that DNA tests prove McKenna fathered her newborn daughter.”

Amy grabbed Emily’s hand. Emily’s stomach churned. She felt like she wanted to vomit. She couldn’t stop shaking. She’d been right to accuse him.

Oh, how she’d wanted to be wrong.

The commentator continued. “Those who’ve followed this saga know that McKenna’s been dating opera diva Emily Hamilton. Let’s hope his romantic misadventures won’t hurt the Sharks’ defense tonight.”

“He lied,” was all Emily could say.

Despite being so mad ten minutes ago she couldn’t look at Emily, Amy wrapped her arms around her sister. “We’ll get through this.” The phone rang. Amy answered it, and said briskly, “No comment.” She hung up. The phone rang again. “Should I answer it?”

“Please unplug it,” Emily told her. “I’m going to go lie down.”

Emily got up off the couch and hurried into her bedroom. She threw herself onto the bed, burying her face in a pillow. The phone kept ringing. The pillowcase still smelled like Brandon.

A few minutes later there was a soft tap on the doorframe, and Amy said, “There’s someone who’d like to talk with you.”

“Not right now,” she choked out.

Amy crossed the room and put the phone up to Emily’s ear. Emily could barely hear him over the racket in the locker room.

“Sugar,” he said, “God, I’m so sorry. I—we’ll talk about this later. I want to see you later.”

“Why?”

“I’ll come over when we get back to Seattle. I just—I want to see you.”

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