Page 96 of The Wrong Game

“I’m glad you let me be a part of it, birthday girl,” I said, voice low as I kissed her forehead.

We were quiet for a moment, me playing with her hair as she drew circles on my shoulder with her fingertips. She laid her head on my chest, a long exhale leaving hers.

“I really like you, Zach Bowen,” she whispered.

I smiled, not too proud to admit my chest tightened at her words.

“You mean you don’t want to get back on the app and find another date for the next game?”

“Absolutely not.”

I chuckled, resting my chin on her head as a thought passed through me. “What if I told you I have a guy in mind for you to take.”

She pulled back, brows bending together. “What? Why on Earth would you want me to go to the game with someone else?”

“I’ll be there, too,” I clarified. “And it’s not a date. More like… a third wheel.”

“I’m confused.”

I smiled, reaching up and tugging on the bands that held her hair up until it all spilled down over her shoulders. “Just trust me. It’ll be fun.”

“Why do I feel like I’m getting set up here.”

“I swear, it’s not a date. I just have someone I really want you to meet.”

At that, her eyes softened, and she leaned into me again. “Okay,” she conceded. “Who is it?”

I swallowed, pulling her closer. It would be the first time I’d ever introduced a woman to him since high school, since before his diagnosis.

Sinceher.

And though my nerves were already sparking, I quieted them the longer I held her, because I knew I wouldn’t regret it. I knew without a doubt I wanted him to meet her.

I wanted everyone I loved to meet her.

“You’ll see.”

Gemma

The first drop of ice cold rain hit my nose as I hustled inside the stadium the following Sunday, flowing with the other Bears fans as we made our way to our seats. Not that the stadium would do much to offer relief from the rain, since it was an open dome, but we hustled inside because rain, snow, or sleet — we were Bears fans.

And it was Football Sunday.

My phone buzzed once I was through security, and I dug it out of the pocket of my jacket, assuming it would be Zach. He and whoever his mystery guest was were already sitting in our section, waiting for me, and I was running behind. Traffic had been crazy, and I’d gotten a late start out the door. He was probably telling me I was going to miss kick-off if I didn’t get my butt down to our seat.

But it wasn’t his handsome face that filled my screen when I finally tugged my phone free.

It was my ex-mother-in-law’s.

I swallowed at the old photo of us, taken on a family cruise to the Bahamas a few years ago. Sofia held her oversized floppy hat with one hand, the other squeezing my shoulder from where her arm was wrapped around me. We were both a little sunburned, both laughing.

Carlo had taken the photo.

My thumb hovered over the green button that would answer the call before I slid it over to the red one, instead, sending her to voicemail. Then, I quickly typed out a text.

- Walking into Soldier Field for the game, can’t talk right now. Call you later? -

I didn’t wait to see what her response was before I tucked my phone away again, quickening my pace to our seats.