Page 57 of Saving the Halfback

“How did he die?”

“He died from suicide.” He didn’t say hecommittedsuicide. No, he said hediedfrom suicide, and I got the feeling the distinction mattered to him. “Nick was Dad’s star player. He couldn’t memorize math equations, but he knew the plays inside and out. He made passes as if they were as natural as breathing. You think I’m a good player? You should’ve seen him. He had scouts watching him before he even made it to high school. He was going to be a big name in the NFL.” Nolan smiled—he really was proud of his brother—but I could see the pain in his eyes too. “My dad calls me Nick all the time, did even before his death. We were identical. It was always hard for him to tell us apart.” He played it off. “That’s how you guessed his name, right?”

“Yeah.” I gave him a small smile. “And your mom? Could she tell you two apart?”

Nolan laughed. “Always. We used to switch classes, so I could write exams for him, switch girlfriends, so it was more convenient. No one ever saw through it, except Mom. She would catch us every time. I thought I was getting good at pretending to be Nick, but nope, Mom was never fooled.”

Pretending to be Nick. It wasn’t often the true Nolan came out. I wondered if he was still pretending. “I don’t think I’ve seen your mom yet.”

“She moved out not long after Nick died.”

We stopped in front of the condo complex, and I turned to Nolan. “I’m sorry,” I found myself saying.

Nolan gave a small smile. “For?”

“Your brother dying. Your mom leaving.”

Nolan reached out, catching a piece of my hair that was blowing in the wind. He wound it around his finger, toying with the strand. “Is it a habit? Feeling sorry for things you have no control over?”

I opened my mouth to deny him, then quickly closed it, because yeah, maybe it was a habit. I wasn’t so much sorry I couldn’t change the situation; I was sorry that it happened. Sorry he was going through this. Nolan was the epitome of happiness. He oozed it at school. He poured positivity. But that wasn’t Nolan. That was who Nolan was hiding behind.

He unwound my hair from his finger and brushed it behind my ear. “Let me give you a ride back to your truck. Come on, we can take the motorcycle.”

I would’ve been fine to walk back myself, but, well, motorcycle! I tried to hide my giddiness as I followed him back to his condo. I must’ve failed miserably, because Nolan laughed as he used the code to open the garage door.

His sleek black motorcycle sat next to a small red car. Workout equipment filled every other square foot of the garage.

Nolan grabbed a key off a hook and two helmets off the back bench, handing one to me. I slipped it on, buckling up, then waited as he pulled the bike out and turned it around. He got on, holding it steady with his thighs while he put his helmet on. My heart was racing with excitement. Nolan reached up, his fingers grazing under my chin while he checked the straps. “Hop on.” He smiled.

I swung my leg over and sat on the seat behind him. There was a small lumbar support I leaned against.

“There are handles by your seat, these bars here.” He reached back and tapped. “You can hold on to those, or you can hold on to me. When I turn, just move with me. You don’t need to throwyourself into the turn, but don’t fight it. You can put your feet on here, but watch your leg on this.” He tapped a pipe near the footrest. “It gets hot.”

“All right.” I bit my lip as nerves mixed with excitement.

Nolan looked back at me, then reached over his shoulder. He took hold of my chin, pushing my bottom lip free with his thumb, running the pad over my lip gently, as if to soothe it. “You’re safe with me,” he whispered.

He turned back around, like it was nothing, but my heart had forgotten to beat. Butterflies took flight in my chest, and I had to take a few calming breaths. I instinctively grabbed on to the handles on my seat, bracing myself as he flipped a couple switches and the engine rumbled to life. He gave me a thumbs up, and I nodded, then remembered he couldn’t see me. “Ready,” I shouted, not sure if he heard my shaky voice over the engine.

The moment the motorcycle moved forward, my hands shot out, grabbing Nolan’s waist to balance myself, and I could feel him laughing. Intrusive thoughts wanted me to pinch him for it, just playfully, but I didn’t want to distract him from the road.

Riding on the motorcycle was breathtaking. The roar of the engine, the wind and sunlight in my face, all the while wrapping my arms around Nolan’s waist.

It wasn’t long before he was pulling up in front of my truck, but when I didn’t make a move to get off, he placed his hands on mine, which were splayed across his stomach. Nolan chuckled. “Want to go for a little spin?”

“Yes!” I nearly shouted.

Nolan gave a full laugh, and we were off again. He took us through town, and the more comfortable I got, the more I loosened my hold on him, my hands now resting on his thighs. I could feel myself moving with the bike, with him, leaning left and right when making those large turns. Soon, though, we wereon the open road with the town passing behind us. My heart was beating rapidly at the speed we were going. All I could think was, if we toppled over right now, the road rash was really going to suck.

I leaned forward and pointed toward a long driveway. “That’s where I live,” I yelled.

He nodded his head. Nolan drove us around a concession before bringing us back into town. As we slowed down, I noticed my hands had moved back to his stomach, and I was now leaning into his back, my chest nearly pressed flush against him. He pulled up to my truck this time and placed his motorcycle in park, turning it off and putting the kickstand down.

I slid down and took my helmet off, handing it to him. “That was a lot of fun.”

“Glad you liked it.” He pulled his helmet off. His hair was all a mess, and I couldn’t help myself as I reached up and messed with it more. It suited him better than the clean style he normally wore.

I mulled something over for a minute before asking, “Is this a Nick thing or a Nolan thing?”

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