Page 37

Peyton

I blow out a breath and press send on an email to Vivi Newport about being on my show.

It might not be the clickbait content that Rebecca wants but I still think it would be an interesting take.

However, Vivi may not be interested in telling stories about old clients if it could hurt her reputation.

I still think that listeners would appreciate seeing these players' lives from another angle.

And with the pictures circling of Hunter and me walking out together, some photographer getting a photo of an intimate moment between us as we walked through the exit for the stadium after his injury, a headline of the doting girlfriend…

The views on our older interview have pushed the already viral status.

People are now even more curious about us.

A text chimes in:

Rebecca: Congratulations! That picture of you taking care of Hunter as a true WAG was the push you needed.

Congratulations?

I click back to my video dashboard, hitting refresh a half dozen times, though one would have sufficed. I have to blink a couple of times when I see the number. One hundred and one thousand.

I scream, and just about leap out of my chair.

My first reaction is to call Hunter, which shouldn’t surprise me anymore.

But I know he is at the stadium probably working out with a couple of teammates, so I don’t want to bug him.

My mom should be at physical therapy with Jesse, so she won’t answer anyway.

I look at the time, and though Abby is at work, her lunch break is around now.

My subscribers are only half of the requirement, but I have to share this with someone. And I have to share it now.

I grab my phone and scroll to the recent call log. My phone rings. The second she picks up, I practically scream in her ear.

"Abby? You're not going to believe this."

“What? What’s going on?”

“I hit one hundred thousand subscribers!” I tell her, tears rushing to my eyes. I still can’t believe that I’m saying the words out loud.

“I knew you were going to do it. I’m so freaking proud of you.”

“Thank you. I was going to call mom, but I know she’s in physical therapy at the clinic with Jesse and—”

“The clinic? No, they stopped those a couple of weeks ago.”

“What? Why? He’s been doing so good.”

“It’s been a little overkill for him now that Hunter’s been picking him up after school twice a week and taking him to see the Hawkeyes' physical therapist.”

Shock fills me. This is the first time I’m hearing of this.

“What? Hunter’s been taking Jesse to physical therapy with him?” I ask.

“I thought you knew… He is your boyfriend with whom you live with, I’m shocked you don’t know.”

“Well then where are they now? I assumed they were at the clinic.”

“Hunter asked your mom to bring Jesse down to the stadium today after school. He said he has an early Christmas present for Jesse, and he wants him to try it out. They should be there.”

Then I hear someone paging Nurse Collins to the ER.

“Hey, I have to go. Love you. I'm so proud of you and everything you’ve accomplished. I’m on Christmas and Christmas Eve for the ER, double time, but after, celebratory yoga class,” she teases.

“I can’t wait,” I say sarcastically.

My mom doesn’t answer, her phone is off, but Abby told me where they are.

I head for the stadium, my mind is racing. What early gift did he get Jesse, and why didn’t Hunter tell me that he’s been taking Jesse to PT with him?

When I arrive at the stadium, I spot Jesse first, his face practically glowing with excitement as he wheels himself around in a brand-new, custom-made wheelchair. Hunter is walking beside him, a proud smile on his face.

"Peyton!" Jesse calls out, waving me over. "Look at my new chair!"

I hurry over, taking in the sleek design and the way it seems to move with Jesse's every motion. "Wow, Jess, this is amazing! Where did you get it?"

"Hunter got it for me!" he exclaims, beaming up at the towering hockey player. "Isn't it the coolest?"

I glance up at Hunter, my heart swelling with a mix of emotions. "You did this?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

He nods, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. "I, uh, I had a little help from Luka. One of his friends is a Paralympian who uses these chairs. His buddy has an in with the manufacturer, and they were able to fast-track it for Jesse."

My eyes sting with unshed tears as I take in the thoughtfulness of his gesture. "Hunter, this is... This is incredible. Thank you."

"It's nothing," he says, waving me off. "Jesse's been a champ during his PT sessions, and he earned it. Now, he can come out with me to play."

“Are you ready to go, Jesse?” my mom says, holding out his jacket. “I’ve got dinner in the crockpot, and we’d better get your homework done before school tomorrow.”

Jesse heads for my mom in his new wheelchair, and Hunter walks behind him with a bucket of pucks and his hockey stick in his hand.

“Thanks, Grandma,” he says, standing out of his wheelchair.

She helps him put on his jacket and then hands him his cane.

It just about wrecks me to see him so much stronger than ever before.

Though he uses his cane a lot, the stadium is a big place, and he would usually bring his wheelchair for this many steps.

He’s beaming, the smile on his face as big as I’ve ever seen it, red from the cold ice.

Jesse turns around and hugs Hunter. “Thank you. I can’t believe I get to play with you now. This is the best day of my life.”

All of a sudden, my jacket feels like it's choking me, and I’m trying to get air, emotions want to overflow, my tear ducts start to water, but I take a deep breath through my nose to stop them. I panic, searching for the exit. This is all supposed to be fake.

With my subscriber numbers reaching my goal and Hunter doing all of this, it’s almost too much.

And in less than three weeks, he’ll go back to being the hockey player on the ice that I once knew, I’ll go back to an empty townhouse, free of boxer briefs in my washing machine, protein shakers in the sink, and more food in the refrigerator than I could ever eat.

In a matter of almost six weeks, I gained so much, and yet I’m about to lose so much more.

I see my mom holding back her own tears. “We owe you so much.”

Hunter waves her off. “I’m happy to get another future hockey player out on the ice,” he says, smiling at her, but then his eyes find mine.

Our eyes lock, and there is so much unspoken in this moment. So much more that he’s done for my family that he was under no obligation in our agreement to do. And he did it without asking for recognition from me or anyone else.

Thank you , I mouth to him, trying to keep my emotions from bubbling over.

He gives the faintest nod, almost as if he doesn’t want to take the credit, and it only makes me want to kiss him more.

Jesse turns back to my mom. “Did you get the video so I can send it to dad next time he calls from base? He’s not going to believe it when I tell him that I’m training with the Hawkeyes. Just wait until my friends hear about this at school,” he tells her, his eyes lighting up like a Christmas tree.

I glance over at Hunter, who's watching the exchange with a knowing smile. "PT sessions?" I echo, my brow furrowing.

Hunter buries his hands in his pockets and shrugs like it’s no big deal. "Yeah, I've been bringing him a couple times a week," Hunter explains. "Figured he could use the extra support, and the team's trainers have been great about working with him."

I'm speechless, my gaze darting between my mom, Jesse, and Hunter.

This man, who I thought was only here because of some mutually beneficial arrangement, has gone above and beyond to make a real difference in my nephew's life.

And without telling me—without looking to gain favor with me or to rack up points to get me in bed.

He’s been doing it because he cares about my nephew—no ulterior motive in sight.

My mom smiles. “Have a safe flight to your mother’s. I’m sure she can’t wait to see you. We’ll see you after Christmas?”

His eyes break from mine and glance to my mom.

“I will, and I’ll let you know what the physical therapy schedule is when I get back,” he tells her and then looks down at Jesse.

“Make sure that you’re doing all the strength training over the holidays.

No slacking off. The only person it hurts is you. ”

“Yes, sir,” Jesse says, and then my mom turns and follows Jesse down the player’s tunnel.

Hunter steps closer, his eyes searching mine as if he can sense the emotions I’m trying to hold back.

“You’ve been picking him up from school and bringing him to PT with you? Why haven’t you ever mentioned it to me?”

“I got your mom’s number at Thanksgiving in case something came up. My PT said he’d like to help, and he’s worked with people with spina bifida right out of college. It just worked out. I didn’t think it would be a problem.”

“It's not a problem, you just never said anything and…”

“You’ve got a lot on your plate, and he’s only gone with me a few times, I wasn’t sure it would help. I didn’t want to get your hopes up if it wasn’t going to work.”

I lick my lips, wanting to explain that this isn’t a small thing. It’s a big thing. To take my nephew who could really use a male figure in his life, who’s putting time and energy into his dreams when my brother isn’t here to do it—it’s a big deal. And I’ve never seen Jesse so happy.

“And the wheelchair,” I ask, breaking eye contact from him to stare at it sitting on the ice. “That was just a small thing too?”

He swallows hard before he speaks. “I called in a favor.”

“An expensive favor…” I add.

“It’s just money.”

“It’s more than that and you know it. You’ve done something for Jesse that none of us could have done. You’ve given him hope and knocked down barriers that we couldn’t have done. And… And…”

“And what?”