Page 109 of End Game

But what if he is? God, seeing him lying there unmoving on the field was terrifying. It made me realize something.

I love him. I’m in love with Nico. I think I’ve known this for a while, but I always brushed it off because no way could it happen that quickly, but it’s true.

I’m in love with him.

I want to tell him, but will that freak him out? He’s not big on serious relationships, yet he somehow has ended up in one with me. Sort of.

Ugh, now I feel unsure and frazzled, and I hate that. I need to see him. Talk to him. Just staring into his eyes is a reassurance.

Pandemonium reigns once the game is over, and we slowly make our way out onto the field along with Claudia, who is practically vibrating with excitement or nerves, I can’t tell. Maybe it’s a combination of both. She’s swiveling her head left and right, her hair swinging with the movement, and at one point, she stops on the forty-yard line and tilts her head back, watching the people slowly empty the stands.

“This stadium is huge.” Her wide eyes meet mine. “It still amazes me that this many people come here to cheer on my son and his team.”

“They’re really good, Mrs. Valente,” Sienna reminds her, sending me an amused look.

“Sienna, I don’t know how many times I’ve told you this over the years, but please, call me Claudia.”

“Right. Okay, Claudia.” Sienna nods and smiles, her gaze then zeroing in on someone to the right and just behind Nico’s mom. Her smile fades, and panic flashes in her eyes. “I need to go find my brother.”

Before we can say anything, Sienna is gone. Seconds later I realize why.

“Hey, Nico’s mom” is how Gavin greets Claudia with a big smile on his handsome face, pulling her into a crushing hug.

This is the new way of things. Anytime Gavin is in the vicinity, Sienna makes herself scarce. She still won’t tell me exactly everything that happened the night she left our house in a huff and Gavin eventually went after her, but I know it wasn’t great.

He must’ve said or done something that sent her so far over the edge that she doesn’t even want to talk about it, and she pretty much tells me everything.

“Oh, Gav, it’s been too long. It’s so nice to see you.” Claudia hugs him in return before she pulls away, smiling up at him. “You played so well this afternoon!”

“Thank you. So did Nico.” His expression turns serious. “By the way, he’s all right. He’s just being checked out thoroughly by the medical staff before being released.”

“Was it a concussion?” Claudia asks, her voice full of concern. “He’s had a few in the past. They always worry me. I’ve told him before it’s not good to get knocked in the head all the time.”

“I’m not sure yet, but he seems like he’s in good shape.” Gav glances over in my direction. “You’ll be able to see him soon.”

“Thanks, Gav.” I offer him a smile. He’s aware of how close I am to Sienna, but I consider Gavin a friend as well. He may be dead to her, and I can still be his friend ... but I will always be on Sienna’s side.

This type of situation is confusing. I actually really like Gavin, but I also know he’s been a complete shit to Sienna. Is his behavior on purpose, or is he really that oblivious?

I don’t know.

“Can you take us to him, please?” Claudia asks Gav. “I’d like to see my son with my own eyes.”

“Of course.”

We head over to the sidelines, where Nico is already out of the tent. He’s chatting with the offensive coach, his expression grave, his gaze lifting to search around him every few seconds. The moment he spots me, a smile appears and he says something to his coach before he breaks away from him, heading straight for me.

I don’t even think. I run toward him, our gazes locking, my heart in free fall. Only when I feel his strong arms clamp around me and hold me close does it settle back into place.

“I was so worried.” My voice is muffled against his chest. He’s still in his full uniform, and when I pull away so I can look at his too-gorgeous face, I see something in his eyes I’ve never noticed before. An unfamiliar emotion that has my stomach fluttering with nerves.

“I’m okay.” He brushes the hair away from my forehead, his fingers going to his number written in paint on my cheek. “Don’t worry.”

“Are you sure?” I run my hands over his chest and stomach, but I can’t actually feel him, thanks to all the equipment he’s still wearing.

“I’m positive.” His focus drops to my chest, lingering there. “You’re wearing my jersey.”

“I always wear your jersey,” I remind him, frowning. He knows this.

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