Page 75 of Ruck Me Harder

So despite counting down the days and then the hours until we can be together again, I live my life. A night out at book club, brunch with my teammates…

And when my brother comes into town for his game against the Grizzlies, I visit him too. He left my name with the arena staff, but before I can pull out my ID to check in, I hear my name called.

“Viv!”

Al is wearing a Grizzlies T-shirt and athletic shorts. He crosses the players’ entrance lobby and tugs me into a hug.

“How was Rotterdam?” he asks, tugging me past the guard with a nod.

“It was good. He did so well.”

“I’m so proud of him,” he says quietly. “I wish I could have been there.”

I squeeze his arm. “He knows why you weren’t.”

He was on a road trip to Detroit and then Toronto. They just got home yesterday.

“So, what brings you to my little corner?” Al gives me a cheeky grin. “You ready to dump that oaf?”

I laugh. “Your brother isn’t an oaf.”

His eyes sparkle with laughter. “Oh, so you’re here to see your oaf of a brother?”

“Something like that.”

Al gasps playfully. “You traitor.”

“Nope. I’m neutral.”

“Please tell me you will at least wear my sweater tonight,” Al begs as we approach the visitor’s training area.

“I think your brother might have an issue with me wearing a different Gonzales on my back.”

“We have the same name.” He waves it away. “Now, if you wore Larsson’s sweater, he might have a problem with it, but I’m family.”

“Yeah, but Chuck’s my baby brother.”

Al laughs loudly. “You hear that, Gallagher?” There are a few guys in Colorado Dragons T-shirts kicking a soccer ball around, my brother with them. “You’re her baby brother.”

“Fuck off,” Chuck says with a scowl on his face.

Al grins. “You really are related!”

Laughing, I give Al a quick hug. “Thanks for making sure I got here safely.”

“I’ll see you after the game,” he promises. “I’ll be the good-looking Gonzales brother.”

Chuck snorts. “You really think that?”

My brother opens his arms and I hug him. He’s taller than me, wider than me, and overall stronger than me, but he’s still a softy at heart.

“You look good, Viv,” he says quietly.

“I feel really good.” I pull back to look him over.

There’s a definite family resemblance. We share the same dark hair and sharp facial features. He has green eyes—and his twin’s are blue—whereas I have brown. He keeps his hair short and his beard neatly maintained.

“How have you been?” I catalog the exhaustion on his face, the weariness in his eyes.