Page 120 of The Shots You Take

Adam hesitated. He’d only told Riley about the book because he’d wanted to tell him this next part. But the next part was a lot, and he wasn’t sure how Riley would react. “No,” he said. “At least not yet.”

“Why not?” Riley was kneeling in the dirt, wearing kneepads and very short shorts. He had a smear of soil on his right forearm.

“Because…” Adam said carefully, “I want to be sure the story has the ending I’m hoping for first.”

Adam could see the exact moment Riley realized what he’d said. He stopped working, sat back on his heels, and looked directly at the camera. “Adam—”

“It just made me think,” Adam interrupted. “If there’s going to be a book about me, it should be about all of me, right? Or at least the important parts.” He laughed. “They don’t need to know that bananas give me heartburn.”

“I thought you liked bananas.”

“Ido, Riles. My life is hell.”

Riley smiled at that.

Adam kept going. “I don’t want to write a book that doesn’t mention that I’m gay. That’s all. But I also don’t want the book to be how everyone finds out either. That feels sleazy to me. I dunno.”

“Sure. Okay.” Riley wiped his brow with his arm, leaving a smudge of soil on his forehead.

Adam took a breath, and said, “My life has been amazing, really. I know that. And I could tell a hundred hockey stories to a ghost writer, and we’d probably get a decent book at the end. Honestly, until recently, I really did think my best years were behind me. That my story was done, maybe, y’know?”

Riley’s lips parted, but he didn’t say anything.

“I know we’re not deciding things right now,” Adam said, “so feel free to ignore this, but since I was in Avery River, I’ve been thinking retirement isn’t going to be so bad. That maybe I’ve got some really good years ahead of me. Some great years.”

“Oh,” Riley finally said.

“Sorry.”

“No,” Riley said quickly. “No, that’s—really?”

Adam smiled. “Really.”

Riley looked away—toward the sea, Adam was pretty sure.

“You don’t have to—” Adam started.

“Your surgery is July seventh?”

Adam was confused by the topic change. “Yeah.”

Riley nodded, then turned his gaze back to the camera. “Okay. I’ll be there.”

“What?”

“I’ll be there. Whatever it takes. Lucky can stay with Mom. We’ve got a full staff at work. I’ll be there.”

“You don’t have to—”

“Adam,” Riley said sternly, “I fucking miss you and I want to see you and take care of you while you’re recovering. I’ll be there.”

God. Adam probably looked like the biggest sap, the way he was smiling at the camera with a lump in his throat. “I fucking miss you too.”

Riley smiled back. “Then I’ll see you in July.”

“What about your garden?”

“It’ll be here.”

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