That was when her father realized they had an audience.
Krystal hugged him, pressed a kiss to his cheek, and said, “I’ll go with you. Jace, too. We’re so damn charming, they might not even miss Emmy Lou.” She winked at Emmy.
“I’ll stay with Emmy,” Travis said. For the first time in months, Travis looked at Daddy without hostility.
“You hear all that?” Daddy’s voice was thick.
Travis nodded.
Daddy nodded, took Krystal’s hand, and headed to the meet-and-greet around the corner.
“You don’t have to stay.” Emmy Lou pushed open her dressing room door. “I’m fine.” She took the pink guitar he handed her and cradled it against her chest. “Thank you. Present. It was a great show.”
“Yeah, sure.” He nodded, pure condescension. “Does that mean you think I’m going to pretend what just happened didn’t happen?”
Emmy Lou shook her head. “Trav—” She hadn’t expected him to wrap her up in his arms. Travis’s hugs lasted five seconds and were followed by lots of dismissive teasing. But he wasn’t letting her go. He didn’t let go until Sawyer came in with Melanie in tow.
“Gatorade and a banana.” Melanie waited for Travis to step aside before putting the half-peeled banana in her hand.
“All of it,” Travis said, crossing his arms and leaning against the vanity counter.
Sawyer stood beside Travis in exactly the same pose, opening the bottle of Gatorade. Side by side, it was hard to miss the resemblance. Then again, the idea of some secret half brother somewhere out there had never crossed her mind. She smiled, taking a bite of banana.
“What?” Travis asked, frowning.
Sawyer frowned, too.
“You two… Never mind.” She laughed, taking another bite.
“If you’re still hungry, these arrived for you.” Melanie nodded at the two boxes sitting on the vanity counter. “I didn’t read the card, but I think we can all guess who it’s from.”
“Who?” Travis asked, then winked, elbowing Sawyer in the side. Sawyer glared back at him.
In the week since the charity ball, they’d exchanged a handful of texts. She sent Brock pics of her and Watson. Brock sent her updates on his dad, Aunt Mo, and the Bremmy updates his agent sent him for clarification. It felt like the start of something. She picked up the boxes, opening the card first. “‘I’ll bring the tags with me to tomorrow’s show. Please put your ankle up and eat something. But maybe save me one of these, too. Brock.’”
She finished the banana and opened the box. Inside was a pale green kitten collar covered in sparkly metallic music notes. “Look. It’s so cute.” She held it out for their inspection. “For Watson.”
“Really? It’s not for you?” But Travis was smiling.
She shot him a look and opened the other box. A dozen carrot cake cupcakes.
“Your favorite.” Melanie smiled. “That’s so thoughtful of him.”
“Maybe.” Travis nodded, eyeing the cupcakes. “Or maybe he’s just buying her gifts and buttering her up so she’ll lose the nun’s habit for a night of s—”
She launched the cupcake without thought. But the look on Travis’s face when it smacked him square in the middle of his forehead was more than worth it. Sawyer’s laughter was the cherry on top.
* * *
Brock wasn’t sure where Emmy’s energy came from. He’d been mingling and shaking hands for over an hour now, and the constant chatter was wearing on him. He couldn’t imagine how Emmy Lou did it. Yes, he worked out for hours a day, but he didn’t have to do it wearing a smile and shoes that couldn’t be good for her ankle—after singing and dancing for two hours straight. There were over fifty thousand people in attendance, and somehow, they’d made the audience part of the show.
As they’d sung their last song, all he could think about was getting to Emmy Lou. Now she was in the same room, her gaze searching him out again and again, and it was hell not doing what he wanted to. But kissing her breathless couldn’t happen. Not yet, anyway.
“You keep staring at my sister that way and the whole Bremmy thing will never go away.” Krystal’s brows rose, her eyes assessing.
That obvious? He didn’t bother denying it. “I thought hashtags and Twitter and crap were good?”
Krystal laughed, then shrugged. “Crap, huh? Yeah, I don’t get it, either. But it’s the measuring stick for stardom these days.” Her eyes narrowed. In all the time he’d known the Kings, he’d never once thought Krystal and Emmy Lou looked like identical twins. The difference was in the way they moved, their posture, and their facial expressions. Krystal had the “fuck you” thing down. She was only as approachable as her smile. Emmy Lou had her own gravitational pull, welcoming everyone with one look. With one smile, she’d steal your heart.