Page 119 of Keepsakes and Kismet

“I can’t wait to cheer you on.” I open the refrigerator to get some milk for the waffle mix. “And, technically, you have already contributed to the cause.”

“What do you mean?”

“It didn’t feel right to keep Cait’s party fee once I learned it was yours.” I wink, and he groans.

I pour the milk into the mix. “But Cait wouldn’t take it back, and Romy already processed the payment. So I withdrew the funds and donated the money to the foundation in your name.”

Callum’s lips close and his eyes widen. After a moment, he kisses the side of my neck. “I love you,” he murmurs.

We finish making breakfast, and I try my hand at guessing Callum’s toxic traits as we eat. It’s hard to come up with many, so I start messing with him instead, proposing the most absurd options. He spends the whole time pretending to be offended.

And when it’s time for him to leave, Callum drops one last kiss on my head. “Run into you tomorrow, then?”

I grin. “You don’t even need to ask.”

Chapter 27

Callum

The arena is already loud when I walk to the bench, and I prefer it this way—busy, chaotic. Everyone’s focus seems to be directed anywhere but me, which provides some peace of mind. I’m trying not to think too hard about the people in the stands, if they know me, if they know what happened. If they were at the funeral, when I wasn’t.

I did some tapping in the locker room before I came out. I had to, after I saw that Tammy and Jeff left me a jersey with Tyler’s number on it to wear. I teared up at the gesture and carefully put it on over my compression tee. Then, I stared at myself in the mirror and wondered what Ty might think of it. I came to the swift conclusion that he’d fucking hate me wearing his number and laughed out loud. I could almost hear him say, “Take it off right now, asshole.”

Naturally, I’m still wearing it just to piss him off from beyond the grave.

It helps that almost all the bleachers are filled, making it harder to distinguish faces. The only ones that stick out to me are my own family sitting in the front row. Every single Galvin came.

The one person who’s not here? My girlfriend. I haven’t seen Peyton yet, though I’ve scanned the crowd half a dozen times. I’m getting a little worried. It’s not like Peyton to miss something like this, but I know the most logical explanation is that she got held up at work. There’s no use letting my irrational side get the better of me. Not today.

“Hey, champ!” Jeff sneaks up behind me. “Game’s gonna start soon. You ready?”

I grin. “Put me in, Coach.”

He claps me on the shoulder. “Will do. As soon as your girl⁠—”

Bubbly music cuts him off, blasting through the speakers. The MC’s voice echoes in the arena, sounding like an announcer before wrestlemania. “And now… to open the game… welcome everyone’s favorite seahorse: Campi!”

A seahorse runs onto the turf, stopping at mid-field to strike a pose. The mascot costume is massive, and purple, and… oh my God.

It’s Peyton.

It’s Peyton’s seahorse costume from her work closet. Giant snout and all.

Peyton the Seahorse dances to the music. She shakes her seahorse butt. She twirls. She waves at kids in the stands and runs around the arena to thunderous applause. She does a bunch of jumping jacks, one for every year the northwest Ohio chapter has existed.

She fucking moonwalks.

Then she slowly turns to face me… and curtsies.

Tammy nudges me. “She’s…”

Mine, I think.

“Amazing,” I say.

The coy look on Peyton’s face, when I invited her to the game, makes more sense now. Of course she wouldn’t tell me. Of course my mischievous, playful girl would take any opportunity to perplex and astonish me.

Campi the Seahorse gives me a little wave before prancing off the turf. We walk out onto the pitch. And as I take my position in the midfield, I wonder if my girlfriend will be in her seahorse costume the entire game.