Page 97 of The Wrong Game

I felt a little bad, declining, especially since I hadn’t taken the time to call her back from the first time I’d missed a call from her two weeks ago. It had been half because I wasn’t sure what to say to her after months of silence, after knowing there was nothing and no one who tied us together anymore.

The other half had been because I was too busy having fun with Zach.

I yanked on my Bears beanie, covering my ears with the soft wool and shoving my hands in the pockets of my jacket. I couldn’t help but smile thinking of him, knowing I’d see him in just a few short minutes when I made it to our seats, that I’d be in his arms again. I hadn’t seen him yet this weekend, not since our lazy movie night Thursday night, and I was anxious to be near him.

I was also nervous to meet whoever it was he’d brought with him.

He’d sold his other ticket, but asked me to save mine so he could bring his mystery guest. I’d pestered him about who it was all week, guessing everything from a college best friend to a gay lover, but he hadn’t budged. Whoever it was, he was important to Zach.

And so, he was important to me.

A chill ran through me when I made it to the section where our seats were, the cool wind whipping down and icing my nose. It was starting to drizzle now, and I peered up at the sky before keeping my head down on the jog to our seats. I had to laugh a little at the juxtaposition of this game next to the last home game — the one where I’d shown up with Jordan, and Zach had shown up with Belle.

So much had changed.

It was hard to wrap my head around everything that had happened since then — facing my fear of heights with him, dinner dates and movie nights, my birthday. I’d crossed over into my next thirty years, leaving the first thirty behind, and I already knew the next would be so different. I hadn’t expected to start my new year with another man, with someone who wasn’t Carlo, but there Zach was.

He’d made everything perfect.

On top of giving me exactly the low-key birthday I wanted at Doc’s bar, he’d opened up to me, and he’d made it easy for me to do the same. And his gift? It was absolutely perfect. It was everything I wanted that I didn’t even know to ask for. The pen, the notebooks… they were personally crafted with me in mind.

It was the most romantic gift I’d ever received.

Minus the cheerleading uniform.

Although, I ended up not entirely hating that, either.

And so, I was too busy floating on clouds to think of calling my ex-mother-in-law back. I was too busy soaking in the feeling of euphoria Zach gave me to even think about getting back out into the cold air, of wrapping myself in the itchy towel of reality.

I just wanted to stay submerged a little while longer, until my hands and feet were pruney and I was tired of the heat.

If ever such a day were to come.

Until then, I would sink down into the water farther, letting it heal my aching muscles and soothe my tender heart.

And that heart doubled its pace as soon as I saw the back of Zach’s head.

I smiled, hopping down the stairs two at a time on my way to our seats. I shimmied past the usual pass holders in our row, greeting them as I squeezed by, and I slid up next to Zach just as the announcer called for the singing of the national anthem.

“Hi,” I said, throwing my arms around his neck as soon as he turned to face me. He caught me with anumphand a smile against my lips as I kissed him, his hands meeting at the small of my back.

Zach was bundled up in a thick, rain-repellent jacket, a beanie covering his own ears and jeans covering his legs down to his sneakers. He felt a little thicker as he held me to him, and it made me want to ditch the game altogether and go cuddle inside by a fire, watching the rain outside instead of being in it.

Of course, I’d never say that out loud. Because, football.

“Well, happy Sunday to you, too,” he said when I pulled back, his dimple popping on his cheek as his eyes drank me in.

“Happy Sunday. Such lovely weather we’re having, isn’t it?” I joked, peeking back up at the miserably gray sky. It was still drizzling, but I had a feeling the rain would come harder and colder any moment.

I was smiling when I looked at him again, but it slipped when my eyes skirted to the boy standing beside him, my heart stopping in my chest before it started back with a hard kick.

Oh, my God…

It was like stepping back in time, like I’d hopped a DeLorean with a time dial set back to Zach’s high school years to see what he looked like then. Except, instead of the dark hair, dark eyes, and scruff-lined jaw, it was sandy blond hair, golden eyes, and a face as smooth as mine that stared back at me. But the resemblance was unmistakable — the boyish grin, the same little dimple on the same cheek, the same broad build and nearly the same height.

I’d seen that boy in a photo in Zach’s apartment.

It was his little brother.