Page 15 of Blue Moon Love

“Yeah, it’s usually not this full-on,” Ruby observed, and I agreed with her.

The score was tied 21-21 with thirty seconds on the clock in the fourth quarter. Firefighters had the ball and were on the sixty-yard line. This was it; this could be the final play of the game.

“I think the quarterback is looking at you,” Taylor commented.

“He is?” I hadn’t noticed because I’d been too busy looking at Sam—shocker, I know.

When I directed my gaze to Jonah, I saw that my cousin was right. He was looking right at me. When our eyes met, he smiled and pointed at me.

“That’s was sort of hot,” Ruby swooned.

Yes, yes, it was.

The ball was snapped, and Jonah threw it high in the air. Sam was covering Milo, who had run a route that put him on the thirty. I watched as my brother jumped into the air to catch it. I thought for sure he was going to get it, but out of nowhere, Sam’s hands wrapped around the pigskin. He pulled it into his arms, landed on the ground, and took off running toward his endzone like a bat outta hell.

The crowd stood to their feet and clapped and shouted encouragement as he crossed the forty, the thirty, the twenty. When he got to the ten-yard line, Jonah had caught up with him, and he lunged for one of Sam’s flags. Sam must have seen it out of the corner of his eye, because he juked him, spun around, and leaped to the goal line.

Everyone in the stands erupted in cheers, even the people who were there to root for Fire, which technically I was since that was Milo’s team. After turning around and giving high-fives to the spectators in my immediate vicinity, I turned toward Taylor and Ruby, who had both been celebrating moments before, and saw Taylor staring down at the field with her work/professional face on. She was a doctor, and during her residency, I’d visited her several times, so I knew that expression well.

My eyes shot to the end zone, and I saw that Sam was still on the ground. He hadn’t gotten up. Something was wrong. Milo, an EMT, gestured to the side of the field and called out for someone to get a stretcher.

“What is it?” I asked Taylor. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know.” She shook her head.

Right. Just because she was a physician didn’t mean she could diagnose someone from the stands.

I grabbed my purse and rushed as fast as I could down the bleachers. Fuck boundaries. I needed to know, to see, that Sam was okay.

8

SAM

“Almost only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades.” ~ Archie “Witty” Whitlock

The pain medication was just starting to kick in as I lay on a bed in the emergency room. It no longer felt like a hot knife was twisting in my knee. It was now just a bone-deep throbbing ache. I knew exactly what happened. I tore my ACL. I’d done it once in high school, playing ball. Thankfully, that time, it was a minor tear and didn’t require surgery, just rest. This time, I was pretty sure I was going to have to go under the knife.

I’d just closed my eyes when I heard the distinct sound of Kenna’s footsteps. I’m not sure when I’d memorized exactly what her steps sounded like, but I always knew when they were hers.

“Milo and the boys got called out to a house fire and had to leave,” she said as she appeared at the end of my bed.

“What about you? Don’t you have work?”

I didn’t know what time it was or even how long I’d been at the hospital, but it had to have been a few hours. The game started at noon and lasted over an hour, which meant if she was going to make it by five, she would need to go.

She shook her head and lowered down into the seat. “Bryson’s covering for me.”

“Nice sweatshirt,” I commented.

“Oh.” Her face turned red, and she looked down at it and stammered, “Um, yeah, so, um...”

I was pretty sure she thought I didn’t know that she’d stolen my U.S.M.C. hoodie the summer after she graduated from college, but I did. She never wore it around me, but I saw it in her hamper for the wash. I liked that she kept it. I loved that she wore it. If it were up to me, Kenna would dress exclusively in my clothing. Her entire wardrobe, including her undergarments, would be mine.

“I knew you had it this whole time,” he confessed.

Her head flew up. “You did.”

“Yep.”

---