Free Taking The Reins (The Rosewoods Book 1) by Katrina Abbott Page A

him. Like I said, it’s not like that...” I clamped my mouth shut, realizing I was babbling like a crazy person who might be overcompensating for something that she wasn’t willing to admit to her roommate or herself.
    Emmie closed her eyes and shook her head for several moments. Frowning, and with her eyes still closed, she said, “Wait, what ? He was going to talk to what coach?”
    All that kissing must have scrambled her brain , I thought, wondering if I wasn’t speaking clearly. “The equestrian coach: Fleming. Brady said he would talk to him about getting me on the team and seeing if the dean would change my community service assignment.”
    She opened her eyes and looked straight into mine. “Brooklyn,” she said, looking at me as though I was daft. “First of all, the dean changes community service assignments for NO ONE. Ever. And secondly, and, I think, most importantly, so pay attention: Brady is Coach Fleming.”
    My brain seemed to stall out for a moment, but when her words started to make sense, I did a double-take. “What? No. He’s older than us, but he’s too young to be a coach.”
    Emmie put her hands on my cheeks and held my head in place, inches from hers, when she said, very slowly, “Brady Fleming is our equestrian coach. He attends Westwood as a student and works here part time in the stables and teaching equestrian. He’s going to the next Olympics.”
    “Olympics?” I croaked.
    She nodded, not letting go of my face. “Yes. The Olympics. You know, that sport event thing that happens, I don’t know, every four years or so. It’s kind of a big deal?”
    “He’s going to the Olympics,” I repeated. “In what?”
    “Dressage.”
    Of course. That makes all the sense in the world. “If he’s going to the Olympics, why is he working here at Rosewood?”
    She shrugged. “He goes to Westwood on an athletic scholarship. I imagine going to the Olympics isn’t free, neither is training or paying for a horse and vet bills and all that.”
    It took a moment for this all to sink in. And then I remembered, “Oh. My. God!” I looked at her. “Emmie!”
    “What?” she asked, but she was laughing. I could hardly blame her; if it wasn’t me who’d made a total fool of myself in front of our equestrian coach, I’d be laughing, too.
    “I bragged about my stupid blue ribbons and even asked him if he rides at all. He must think I’m a total idiot. No wonder he gave me that look.”
    She let go of my face to laugh and throw her arms around my shoulders and give me a squeeze. “You are so cute. What did he say?”
    I smirked, in spite of myself. “He said he rides a little .”
    She snorted. “Ha! That’s awesome. But more importantly,” she dropped her voice and gave me a pointed look. “Isn’t he delicious?”
    “Emmie!”
    Feigning shock, she suddenly let me go. “Oh come on. Tell me you didn’t notice. He’s beautiful and broody; what’s not to like?”
    “Broody?”
    “Yes. Broody and moody, snarling all the time. Tortured. So hot.”
    I wasn’t sure we were talking about the same guy. “I didn’t get that from him.”
    “Tall guy, black hair, honey brown eyes?”
    I nodded. Definitely Brady.
    “Was he wearing tight pants? His best assets are below the belt.”
    “Emmie!” I exclaimed again, raising my palms to my hot cheeks.
    She winked and got up out of my bed. “Relax, I meant his butt and thighs from all that horseback riding. You have such a dirty mind, Brooklyn Prescott.” She gave me a wave over her shoulder. “I don’t think you’re as innocent as you let on.”
    Indeed I was, but her comment was rhetorical, so I didn’t respond. And anyway, by the time I would have thought of something to say, she had taken her pajamas into the bathroom and shut the door behind her.
    But as I sat there, still stunned from learning Brady was actually the equestrian instructor, something nagged at me. Why hadn’t he told me? He’d had several opportunities: when I