grow up faster than she needed to.
“Does that gash on your arm there have anything to do with your unexpected arrival?” Gray pointed to the patch of raw skin, puckered from recent stitches, peeking from beneath Emmitt’s shirt cuff.
Emmitt tugged down his sleeve. “There was a little mishap at the factory I was covering, and I got caught by a few pieces of stray concrete.”
He resisted the urge to pull the bill of his ballcap lower. The last thing he wanted was to bring attention to the gash on his head. Not if he wanted the always cautious Dr. Grayson to clear him for duty, the last condition Emmitt had to meet before Carmen would put him back in the field. Emmitt didn’t need Gray learning about the meteorite-sized chunk of concrete that had knocked him out cold.
“According to CNN, that little mishap leveled the entire factory,” Gray corrected.
“You know how reporters exaggerate for ratings.”
“That’s what Carmen said.” Gray’s eyes never strayed from Emmitt’s as he spoke. “When you didn’t check in, I called your office. According to her, you’d finally got what was coming to you. According to Paisley, you were enjoying your trip.”
“Aw, you do care,” Emmitt joked, surprised at how moved he was to learn that Gray had checked up on him. He’d woken in the hospital to a few texts from Paisley but nothing from Levi or Gray. Not that Emmitt had contacted them. Paisley’s mental well-being had precluded calling home.
His little girl had trouble sleeping as it was. She didn’t need to see him bruised and battered in a hospital bed whenever she closed her eyes. So he’d kept a steady text thread going with her—funny memes, photos of China, the latest Maru the Cat videos—but not a word about how bad his injuries were.
“I told P that it was just a few—”
“Scrapes and bruises,” the guys interrupted in unison. Then Gray said, “We heard.”
“Scrape.” He pointed to his arm, then showed his other elbow. “Bruise. As for the rest, I wanted to tell her in person. Is she asleep?”
“She’s staying the night at Owen’s,” Levi said, referring to Paisley’s best friend.
“On a school night?” Emmitt clarified, because here they were worried about a fifteen-year-old staying home alone for a few hours after school, but saw zero problems arising from her staying over at a boy’s house—school night notwithstanding.
Was he seriously the only one unsure about his daughter’s best friend being male. Yes, he was aware that Owen had been Paisley’s bestie since they were in diapers. He was also aware that Owen’s mom had been Michelle’s best friend and would protect Paisley as if one of her own.
But a lot had changed between them. Most importantly the toxic level of hormones that could have even the most levelheaded teens losing their good sense—and clothes. They were forced to sleep in different rooms now, so Emmitt was going along with it. But the second Owen started looking at Paisley as a girl, there was going to be some kind of come-to-Jesus meeting, with Owen in the hot seat.
“Tomorrow is a late start. Some kind of district meeting for the teachers,” Gray said as if that were supposed to make everything better. “You want me to call her and tell her you’re here?”
“No, if I wanted someone to call her, I’d call her myself,” Emmitt said, wondering just how out of touch the guys thought he was when it came to his own daughter. “I’ll surprise her tomorrow.”
“She’ll be bummed she missed you,” Gray said. “But it’s your call.”
It was his call. And he was choosing to wait until he didn’t feel as though his head were about to crack in half. And until he wasn’t the reason for a fun “late start” sleepover to come to an early end. “It’s been real, boys.” Emmitt stood and went to stretch, cutting it short when a searing hot pain raced up his right side. Masking a gasp with a yawn he added, “I’m going to head home and catch a few more Zzzs.”
“Oh shit!” Levi stood too. “You’re headed home. Like home home. When did you get in? Please tell me you came straight here.”
Emmitt had to laugh. Thinking back to the feisty brown-eyed beauty sleeping in his bed, he had an idea why his friend was anxiously scrolling through the contacts in his phone.
“Nope. Met my new bunkmate first.”
“Ah shit.” Levi’s head dropped into his hands, his fingers working the temples, pressing into the deep grooves