Chapter 16 Chapter 16
Emily's POV
The athletic complex was almost quiet at seven in the morning. Westview was never silent, but quiet enough that the usual chaos of athletes, coaches, and trainers hadn't fully taken over yet. The echo of sneakers on the polished hallway floors carried further. The weight room lights were still dimmed.
This was my favorite time to be here. Order before the noise. Preparation before performance. I balanced Noah’s rehab tablet on my arm while flipping through the exercise notes that I wrote last night. His shoulder stabilization was improving, but his scapular engagement still lagged during overhead rotation. If he kept forcing power through the deltoid instead of activating the stabilizers-
“Excuse me.” The voice interrupted my thoughts.
I looked up. A man was standing a few feet away from me. For a split second, my brain thought it was Noah, because the resemblance was undeniable, but then the differences become obvious. He was slightly taller. His posture was relaxed in a way that suggested complete control of the space around him. His dark hair was neatly styled instead of carelessly messy like Noah’s usually was, and he was wearing a tailored coat over a crisp shirt instead of athletic gear. Where Noah felt like a storm, this man felt like calm before it.
His eyes swept over me thoughtfully, lingering on the tablet in my hands. “You must be Emily Taylor,” he said. His voice was warm, smooth, and confident.
I blinked in confusion as to who he might be or where this might be going. “Yes?”
He smiled slightly and extended his hand. “Lucas Harris.” I shook it automatically. His grip was firm.
Harris.
My brain connected the name instantly.
“Noah’s-”
“Stepbrother,” he finished easily.
Oh. That made sense.
Now that I looked closer, the similarities were clearer, the same sharp jawline, and the same striking blue eyes. But where Noah’s presence filled a room with unpredictable energy, Lucas seemed to command attention quietly, like someone who didn't need to prove anything.
“It’s nice to meet you,” I said.
“The pleasure’s mine.” He glanced around the training facility. “I was hoping to find Noah here.”
“He will be here soon. We have a rehab session scheduled.” I said.
Lucas’ eyebrow liftted slightly. “You’re the infamous rehab specialist.”
I laughed softly. “I didn’t realize I had a reputation.”
“Oh, you do,” he said casually. “My father mentioned you last night.”
That surprised me. “He did?”
“Yes. Apparently you have managed to make Noah follow a structured rehabilitation schedule.”
“That’s part of my job.”
Lucas studied me for a moment. “And how exactly did you accomplish that?”
I shrugged lightly. “Discipline.”
“From him?”
“It’s possible.”
His smile widened. “I’ve known Noah for twenty-five years,” he said. “That word has never been associated with him.”
I couldn't help smiling.
“He’s more cooperative than people think.”
Lucas tilted his head slightly, considering that. “Interesting.”
We began walking slowly towards the therapy area. Lucas gestured towards the tablet in my hands. “You’re tracking his recovery data?”
“Yes.”
“Shoulder injury?”
“Rotator instability with muscular asymmetry.”
He whistled softly. “That sounds serious.”
“It is.”
“And you’re confident you can fix it?”
“I’m confident we can improve it.”
Lucas watched me carefully. “You’re very precise with your words.”
“Precision matters in medicine.”
“And in life,” he said thoughtfully. We reached the rehabilitation space.
Lucas leaned casually against the wall while I set the tablet down on the therapy bench. “So,” he said, crossing his arms, “What made you choose sports rehabilitation?”
The question caught me slightly off guard. Most people asked about Noah, or the fake relationship, or the PR campaign, but not my career. “I’ve always been fascinated by how the body adapts after injury,” I said.
“How so?”
I found myself explaining before I realized it. “Most athletes focus on strength and performance. But recovery is where the real science happens. The body has to relearn movement patterns, stabilize joints and rebuild neural pathways.”
Lucas nodded slowly. “You’re passionate about it.”
“Yes.”
“And Noah?”
“What about him?” I asked.
“Do you believe he is capable of that kind of discipline?”
I hesitated and then I answered honestly. “Yes.”
Lucas studied my face like he was analyzing something deeper. “You’re the first person I have met who has said that about him without sarcasm.”
That surprised me. “He just needs structure.”
“And patience,” Lucas added.
“Exactly.”
A slow smile spread across his face. “I can see why he listens to you.”
“Barely,” I said.
Lucas laughed. The sound was easy and genuine.
“You know, Noah was a nightmare growing up.”
“That doesn’t surprise me.”
“He once got suspended in high school for riding a dirt bike through the gymnasium.”
“You’re kidding.”
“I wish.” I laughed before I could stop myself. He watched me with clear amusement. “You’re good for him,” he said casually.
“I’ve known him for two weeks.”
“Still.” His tone carried something I couldn't quite identify.
Approval?
Hope?
Just as I opened my mouth to respond, footsteps echoed down the hallway. I looked up, it was Noah. He was walking towards us in training clothes, his gym bag slung over one shoulder. He stopped the moment he saw us. His eyes moved from Lucas to me and then back again. Something in his expression tightened.
Lucas straightened slightly. “Well,” he said quietly, “There he is.”
Noah approached slowly. His gaze flicked between us again. There was something sharp in his voice when he spoke. “Lucas.”
Lucas smiled calmly. “Little brother.”
The tension between them hit instantly, like two magnets repelling each other. I glanced between them. The resemblance between them was obvious now that they were standing together, but the energy was completely different. Noah’s presence was restless and Lucas’ was steady.
“You’re in town,” Noah said flatly.
Lucas shrugged. “Business meeting.”
“Westview?”
“For now.”
They stared at each other for a moment that felt longer than it should.
Finally Lucas gestured towards me. “I was just meeting Emily.”
Noah’s gaze snapped to me. “You two looked very… entertained.”
“We were talking.”
“About what?” he asked.
“Your childhood dirt bike incident,” Lucas said helpfully.
Noah groaned. “You told her that?”
“You drove a motorcycle through a gymnasium.”
“I was sixteen.”
“You were suspended.”
“I know!”
Lucas laughed quietly. I watched the exchange carefully. Something about their interaction felt layered. Years of history sitting just beneath the surface.
Lucas turned back to me. “Well, Emily,” he said warmly, “It was a pleasure meeting you.”
“You too.” I smiled.
He gave Noah a thoughtful look. but then smiled again. “Take good care of him,” he said to me. “He needs someone like you.” The words hung in the air. Noah’s jaw tightened slightly. Lucas patted his shoulder lightly. “Try not to scare her away.”
“I’m not the scary one,” Noah muttered.
Lucas chuckled, before he walked towards the exit with his hands in his coat pockets. But before leaving, he glanced back once. That same knowing smile on his face and then he was gone.
Silence filled the training room. I turned towards Noah. He was staring at the doorway. Something in his expression looked… irritated, or maybe unsettled. “Your stepbrother seems nice,” I said cautiously.
Noah exhaled slowly. “Yeah.”
“That sounded convincing.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “He’s complicated.”
“So are you.”
He glanced at me before he looked away again. “Let’s start rehab,” he said.
I nodded. But as he set his bag down and rolled his shoulder carefully, I couldn't help but think about Lucas’ words.
He needs someone like you.
And the strange tension that crossed Noah’s face when he said it. Whatever history existed between those two, I have a feeling I just stepped right into the middle of it.