Page 35

Chapter 35

Zack

“I was banking on getting drinks or something, not hot yoga,” Riley whines as we walk out of the studio. “How is it that the hot water still felt cold after that? Brutal.” She piles on how much she didn’t have a good time.

“Hot yoga is better for the fact that game day is tomorrow afternoon. Plus, I've had some shoulder knots I've been working on,” I explain.

Tomorrow is the last game before our bye week, or my vacation slash wedding with Emilie. It's also been hard to get time with Riley due to her work schedule.

She takes her hair out of the ponytail and shakes her head. “Fine, but maybe I won’t try so hard to align my flight schedule with your away games.” She rolls her eyes and shoves me but wears a smile.

We walk into Riley's favorite smoothie spot—the one with an acai bowl that I swear could cure all hangovers—and grab a booth. She places our order, which I know will be a mix of anything and everything that sounds good, and we’ll end up sharing.

I’ve always been particular about sharing food. The thing about having a younger sibling is you need to play the long game. Riley was always going to be there, asking for things off my plate, so sharing food with her is the compromise.

She slides into the booth, her cheeks still red from the forty-minute yoga session, or maybe the shower after .

“What’s the deal? Did you talk to Dad yet or what?” she asks, downing an entire glass of water.

I shake my head. “I’ve tried, but he hasn’t had much to say. He told me the guys were blowing off steam and it just got late. His phone died. The same thing he told you.”

Riley rolls her eyes, crosses her arms, and leans back in the booth. “It feels like bullshit. Right?”

My dad has always been our hero. He’s never done anything to make us wonder if he was ever into anything he needed out of. I agree with Riley though, this doesn’t add up.

“Definitely. I think something’s going on, but I don’t know what. I don’t know how to get him to open up.”

My sister and I re-hash the whole him yelling at me thing while we were at dinner, all over a random person giving me her number that I wasn’t going to use, and our order is dropped off: smoothie bowls, a smoothie, fresh pressed juice, and homemade granola bars.

“When’s the last time you guys golfed?” Riley asks. “Or did something like that?”

My brain tries to remember, but I know it’s been a while.

“Couldn’t tell you. He’s bailed the last few times.” I take a bite of an acai bowl with flakes of coconut, chia seeds, and honey on it. It’s tart and sweet at the same time—the coolness perfect for after a yoga session like we just did.

The worry hits my sister’s face and it’s like a sucker punch, taking my breath away. I wish I had the answers but I don’t.

“Listen. I flat out asked him if he was sick; he said he wasn’t. I think the plan is to keep supporting him like we’ve always done—make ourselves available, and he’ll tell us when he’s ready.”

She finishes the fresh kiwi papaya juice and nods in understanding. “You’re right. I know, I just wish there was more we could do. ”

I don’t say anything because I feel like I've said it all.

“Give me the dirt on this wedding.” She switches the topic and I’m grateful.

"It’s next week. Emilie’s little sister and her longtime college boyfriend. They seem okay, but her parents are not my favorite people.”

Riley’s eyes go wide. “So you’re okay with the little sister marrying the ex? Her parents are that bad?”

“Without a doubt. It’s like she’s a shell of herself when we’re with them. She has it figured out: what she can or cannot do, what she should talk about, how to divert conversations she knows will only bother them. They water her down, and I hate it.”

I take a bite of a peanut butter honey and oat granola bar, fresh enough that the peanut butter leaves traces on my fingertips.

“Fuck that. How awful.” Riley takes a drink of a smoothie. “I’m still amazed you brought someone like her home. Quite the show coming from the guy who doesn’t ever date.”

It’s not lost on me. I’ve thought a lot about this since I brought Emilie to my childhood home. How easy it was for her to melt in with my family, like we’ve been together for much longer. My brain keeps thinking of holidays and how it’d be to have her with us there.

It’s also wildly clear that we haven’t talked about what happens after the wedding.

“Mom and Dad loved her. I loved her. I feel like you already love her or are really close.” She pinches her fingers together, demonstrating the closeness with a small gap between her fingers. My sister looks at me with a knowing glare.

I lean back in the booth. “Just say what you want to say.”

“I think you could love her. You’ve been happier than any time you were with any of the jersey chasers I remember you’d entertain on a nightly basis. I mean, you flat out got a new phone number because you knew it’d make her more comfortable. Shut down the warehouse to shop with her. There’s no way I'm telling you something you don’t already know.” Riley flips her hair off her shoulder.

I take a deep breath, looking at my smirking sister.

I don’t say anything.

Because I think she’s right.

The Upstate Cosmos are first in our division as we stole a game we should’ve lost—according to Vegas—on the road. We won today, 33-31, and nothing feels better going into a bye week. Tripp was out of his mind, snagging passes that were over or underthrown by our quarterback—the Cosmos version of superman.

I'm on the team plane, about to take off when Emilie sends a photo. It’s a picture of her luggage, ready to go for when we leave in a few days.

Me

damn, already packed, huh?

seems like you’re excited for the wedding

EJ

I'm excited for the trip

particularly my travel buddy

it’s going to be fun.

are you coming over when you get home ?

My cheeks hurt because I'm smiling like an unhinged idiot in my seat, both from her wanting to travel with me, and asking if I'm coming over. Our interrupted night after shopping and tattoos is haunting me, but I’m also so tired after the game.

as much as I’d love to

i'm fucking beat and you deserve better than that ;)

well if you want to sleep in my bed, invitation is there

seriously?

yes but you need to decide so I can put your name on the afterhours list with a code to get in the building

I'm in

And I am. I'm so in. For all of it.