Page 71 of Game Face

“A bit of both, I guess.”

It takes us a while to get to the barn, but when we do, Peyton moves from holding her walker to holding onto Otis by herself. I flatten a palm to one cheek and cross my other arm over my body as I watch her in wonder.

“I’m not sure what you need me out here for,” I admit.

Her cheeks push up, a bashful expression touching her face before she looks down and bites her lip. When she lifts her chin and meets my eyes, her smile isn’t quite as big, and I step in close on instinct a second before her bottom lip starts to quiver.

“Peyt, what’s wrong?” I pull her into me, holding her head to my chest as she sniffles. A faint and nervous laugh leaves her mouth.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think I’d fall apart like this,” she says.

“Shh, it’s okay. You’re allowed to be human, you know?” I kiss the top of her head, happy to have her warm body against mine, in my arms. She looks up, her chin pushing into my chest as I tuck a few loose hairs into her headband. Her cheeks are red from either the cold or from her abandoned emotional mask. I run my thumb along her cheekbone, cherishing the soft skin I missed so much.

“Don’t say I don’t need you. Because I need you, Wyatt. I need you so much.”

My hands cup her face, and my lips move to hers before the next cry hits her lips, and I kiss her so long that I worry I may be starving her of air.

“I didn’t want you to think I didn’t need you. Every call we’ve had, all the videos, the photos, the little hearts you send—that’s why I’m able to do this.” She gestures down to her feet, her toes pointed directly at mine, her balance almost there.

“I never thought that,” I lie. She doesn’t need that weighing her down. Not now that she’s just learning to fly again.

But honestly, I always knew deep down she needed me as much as I need her. For a while, I was hurt at the thought that she didn’t want me. But then I realized she simply wanted big thingsforme more. And it’s hard to resent someone for that. No matter how wrong they are.

Otis neighs, stomping his right foot into the loose hay.

“I think he wants to go for a walk. What do you say?” Peyton says.

“I say, lead the way,” I respond.

And without my help at all, she does.

Chapter Thirty

Wyatt went back to our apartment, and I let him. Every fiber of my soul wanted him to stay, but with two losses and a tough game coming up, I want him to focus for Saturday.

We might miss the playoffs. It’s a hard year, and the system still has its flaws. The number of times my dad has gone on a rant about the weight of our schedule versus the SEC school that will get a bid no matter what their record is rivals only the number of conversations I’ve had with Tasha in the last twelve hours while I panic-search my room for the ring.

I’ve tossed everything from all my drawers, even going so far as to sit my ass on the floor and feel inside the bottom drawer and then take a flashlight to look underneath the dresser. The whole ordeal took me an hour, and it hurt like hell because I did it by myself. But there’s no way I’m bringing anyone else in on my dilemma. I still have no proof that ring was from Wyatt and meant for me, let alone that if it was, I probably shouldn’t be hiding it.

I’m chewing at the inside of my mouth, sitting on the end of my bed as my eyes scan every possible hiding spot, when my mom knocks softly at my door.

“Come in,” I say, folding my hands on my lap and doing my best to look nonchalant. My hair is sweaty, though, from the recent aerobic activity. My mom clearly notices, drawing her brow in as she looks me up and down.

“I was trying a new exercise. It was hard.”

“Ah,” she relents. “Well, you have a visitor.”

There’s a slight edge to her voice, so I grip the side of the bed as I do my best to sit up tall. Or rather, taller. Tall is really the only way I can sit now. I hold my breath, not sure who to expect, and when Alicia’s eyes meet mine, a sudden lump forms in my throat. I haven’t seen her since the accident.

“Hi,” she says, bunching her hand up nervously. She stays behind my mom for a moment, almost like she’s hiding, but eventually steps into my room.

“Hi. I . . . I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were coming,” I stammer. My gaze moves to my mom, and I’m sure the panic on my face is front and center.

“I’ll give you guys some privacy.” My mom gives me a reassuring nod, then backs out of the room.

Alicia moves in for a hug, then stops suddenly, her arms bent as she leans awkwardly. “I’m sorry, can you—can I give you?—”

“I’d love a hug,” I reassure her.

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