Old Enough to Love... (Just One of the Guys) by Kristi Pelton Page A

             
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     

 
 
 
TWELVE
 
Zach
     
                 
    “Shut the hell up, Zach.” Ryan shouted.
    Emma’s lids came only to half mast but her hand made it to Ryan’s mouth. Her tiny little fingers barely grazed his lips. “Don’t,” she said in a forced breath. “I like him,” she panted. 
    I knew that it was physically impossible for a human heart to ache but the pain echoing from under my sternum was like no pain I’d ever experienced. I raked my fingers through my hair, pulling it slightly, feeling a different pain.  This was my fault. She lay in her brother’s arms fighting for breath and yet she still tried to protect me? What the hell?
    “Emma!” Ryan shouted.
    “I got it,” Grant’s yell resonated over the sound of the waves.  Brett and Connor were running behind, and past them Estelle walked with Jaycee and Claire.
    With my hands shoved deep in my pockets, I moved closer to Emma refusing to allow them to shut me out. Grant tossed the inhaler to Ryan.
    “I already shook it,” Grant gasped and rested his hands on his knees.
    Ryan maneuvered the opening between her lips and gave her a puff. Her breaths so shallow, I didn’t see how it would work.
    “Is it working?” I didn’t even realize that I’d said something until Grant glared up at me. 
    “Em, come on,” Grant said, tapping her cheeks harder than I liked.  “Come on, sweetheart, breathe. Do it again.”
    Ryan did, puffing the air again into her mouth.
    “Ryan, should I call 911?” Connor said falling knees first into the sand next to them.
    “No. She’s gonna be OK, aren’t you Em?” 
    My eyes roamed from Conner to Brett to Grant to Ryan. All of them standing over her, protecting her, taking care of her. I thought about the wall of pictures in their living room, each with her and the boys around.  I didn’t fit in this picture at all.  I seemed to hurt her with every step I took to get closer to her.  This girl truly needed taken care of.  She could barely breathe on her own and her stubbornness only put her more at risk. This circle of heroes seemed impenetrable.
    Grant’s hand slid under the sweatshirt she wore—his sweatshirt. Though I knew it wasn’t sexual, jealousy consumed me.  I wanted to touch her, to help her, to protect her. 
    “It’s working,” Grant said. “The breaths are deeper.”
    “Is she OK?” The words whispered in my ear and the smell of alcohol accompanied the breath.
    My quick step away should have said enough but Estelle stepped closer.
    “Seriously, is she OK?” she asked again.
    My hand kept her at arms distance. “What do you care? You got what you wanted.  You told her. You’re such a bitch.”
    “Stop being mean. Besides, you need to know, I’m late.”
    “What?”
    “My period. It’s late.” Her hair blew so I couldn’t read her expression.  I swiped my hand down my face. The hits just keep on coming.
    “You think you’re pregnant?” I questioned.
    Suddenly, her eyes seemed to focus behind me.  I spun around and the whole crew stared at us, I’m guessing digesting everything Estelle and I said.  Emma’s eyes were fully open and she was sitting upright. The anger I fought so hard to control was at a boiling point. I hated this town. I hated the people in it. With one exception. 
    “Are you OK?” I asked moving toward her.
    Her little shoulders jetted up then down right before Grant stepped in front of her.
    “I think we’ve got her from here.  Looks like you got bigger problems to tend to.”
    Not engaging with him would be the biggest obstacle I’d overcome since I’d been here, but punching him would only get me more jail time.  My eyes stayed focused on hers.
    “Is that what you want?” I asked her directly.
    Grant threw up his arms. “It doesn’t matter what she wants.”
    If I’d have been in Vegas, I would have bet a million dollars on her next response.
    Her