Page 195 of On His Team

She smiles against my cheek. “Rowan.”

I turn toward the house with her still in my arms. “I’m not putting you down yet.”

She starts laughing loudly enough that I have to tell her to be quiet before somebody comes outside and finds us.

That only makes her laugh harder.

She buries her face in my neck, shoulders shaking against me, and I carry her back toward the house anyway.

Chapter 18

GIANNA

I wake up Sunday with sore legs, a dead phone, and Rowan’s goal still replaying in my head. Not even the whole goal. Just the second after.

The red light comes on, Blue crashes into him, Stanley gets there screaming, and Rowan looks toward the stands like he already knows exactly where I am. I have thought about that look approximately forty times since last night.

I roll onto my stomach and reach blindly for my phone. Dead. Great. I plug it in, wait long enough for the battery symbol to appear, and then drop my face back into the pillow.

My body feels like I played the game instead of watching it.

Yesterday started before sunrise with forty-eight children, eighty-seven parent questions, figure skates, giant jerseys, one child throwing up, and Gary carrying skate hooks that belong in a Smithsonian exhibit. Then Ohio State. Then Hawthorne. Then Rowan carrying me through the backyard because apparently walking had become optional.

I smile into the pillow.

My phone turns on. There are nineteen notifications. The family group chat is mostly pictures from the clinic. Mom has sent one of me standing beside the gate, another of the entire group, and then a screenshot of the picture Rowan sent Benson.

Mom: This one is my favorite.

I open it. I’m halfway across the lobby holding three helmets and looking in completely the wrong direction. I don’t even remember him taking it.

Something stupidly warm settles in my chest. Then I see Rowan’s message.

Rowan: Awake?

Sent four minutes ago.

I type back.

Me: Technically.

His reply comes immediately.

Rowan: Hungry?

I stare at it.

Me: Always.

Rowan: Come outside in ten.

I sit up.

Me: Excuse me.

Rowan: Nine now.

I throw the blanket off.