Page 58 of Draft Pick
What does he mean by that? I’m starting to question whether these feelings I’ve tried to bury aren’t just one-sided.
“Okay,” I mutter softly. “I had no idea Wynonna was your grandmother. This place has been my saving grace during this move.”
Crew lifts his right arm in what looks like a stretch, and I instantly clock the movement. I notice the way his face fights back a painful grunt once his elbow almost completely straightens. Is he still going through rehab for that injury? Seems like it’s still bothering him. “Oh, you mean Ho of read?” he jokes. “Great name, right?”
“Hey, it made me stop in. I think it’s unintentionally drawing in customers. I’ve come almost every day since I moved here.”
His palms meet the table as he leans forward. “Please tell me you’ve tried the cinnamon rolls.”
“Only every single time. Can’t you tell?” I rub my stomach for added effect, and his eyes make a perusal of me from the top of my head to as far as he can see from the booth.
“Not even a little.”
I swallow slowly. “So, Wynonna and Jed, are they from your mom’s or dad’s side?”
“My dad’s,” Crew tells me just as a server delivers our hot chocolates. “Thanks, Kylie.”
“No problem, Crew,” Kylie tells him, smiling in return.
Everyone knows him in this town. Even the part off the beaten path. Out here, it doesn’t feel like we’re in Atlanta.There’s one established neighborhood—ours—and nothing but trees and dirt roads. Also, what looks like an abandoned compound on one end. I guess Crew had the same idea I did when purchasing a home—getting away from the city.
I’d guess, for someone of his fame, privacy doesn’t come very easily.
Yet, I’ve only ever seen him be kind.
“My dad is from the South. Near Macon. I’m sure you can tell by their accents.” He nods toward his grandparents, currently flirting across the kitchen. “And my mom is actually from Florida. Near Cocoa Beach. They met when my dad played in the Major Leagues himself.”
“Your dad played, too? That’s so cool. He must be incredibly proud of you, Crew.”
He nods agreeingly. “More than you know. I’m an only child, so I don’t think it would have taken much for them to be proud, but I think it means a lot more to Dad than he’d ever let on that I went to play pro ball like him.”
“I guess that means you come from a pretty athletic family. Maybe Queen Addie of Emerald City will follow behind her daddy and grandpa.”
Crew chuckles, taking a sip of his hot chocolate. Whip cream coats his mustache, but I don’t tell him. Getting to see him a little less than perfect feels like a treat. “Queen Addiehas dreams of being a hip-hop dancer. It’s like she wants me to get sentenced to life in prison for murder.”
“This is going to sound crazy weird…but that was always my dream as a kid. I wanted to shake my hips like Shakira but sing like Shania Twain.”
The most velvety laugh escapes him, hearty and full of so much life. I can’t ignore the butterflies in my stomach. “Two very different performers. No less queens. But vastly different.”
I laugh. “All I’m saying is…if you ever find yourself in need of someone to help her live that dream even a little bit…I’m your girl.”
“You seriously know how to hip-hop dance?”
“Hell no.” I wave him off. “Pretty sure I don’t have a coordinated bone in my body, but you better believe I’m up to try. Me and Addie can fulfill our dreams together…one horrible pop, lock, and drop it at a time.”
“Fucking hell.” Crew massages his temples, and I love the smile that creeps up his face. “I’m gonna say something, and it’s gonna be bold and likely inappropriate. Okay?”
Oh, god…
“Oh. Um. Okay.”
His hazel eyes that remind me so much of the mountain range meeting the green on the valley back home, stare at me with an intensity I’m afraid to match. He ticks his lips in contemplation before throwing caution to the wind and speaking out. “Sometimes, I wish you weren’t Addie’s doctor. Actually, that’s a lie. Not sometimes—constantly.”
Oh. My. Goodness.
And because I don’t know how else to respond, I whisper with bated breath, “Why?”
“Because I selfishly want you for myself.”
