Page 40 of Make Your Play

“Ph? it is,” I tell her, pulling up a menu on my phone. I add what I want to the cart, along with what she always gets, before handing it to her to double-check. Her eyes scan the phone, something dancing in her irises as she nods and hands it back to me to finish the order.

Two hours later, we’re both on the couch with empty Pho bowls on the table and rolling credits of the movie. We settled on a rom-com Lincoln told me about one day, and the highlight of my day was getting to listen to Riley laugh.

Riley turns to look at me, adjusting herself to a seated position as she lets out a yawn. “Thank you for tonight,” she says with a smile as she moves her blanket around herself. She was lying on one side of the sectional while I was on the side that met it. So close, yet I was hesitant to touch her. Hesitant to scare her away. “I needed that.”

“Always, Ry,” I tell her, turning on the couch to face her. “Whatever you need, I’m always here.”

Her lips turn downward and a touch of sadness lingers in her gaze. “What happens when you’re not here?”

“What do you mean?”

She motions to my ankle. “Well, you were staying with me while you were healing. You’re back to playing tomorrow, so I imagine you’ll be going home?”

I stare at her for a moment, my eyes slowly searching hers, scanning her expression before resting on her gaze again. “Do you want me to stay?”

“I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking,” I retort, swallowing hard over the emotion and hope lodged in my throat. I don’t want to go. I’ve grown used to spending my evenings with her—most nights falling asleep on the same couch as her. “Tell me to stay, Riley.”

“Stay with me,” she breathes, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

Instinctively, I move closer to her, wrapping my arms around her body as I pull her against my chest. “I’m not going anywhere, Riley. I’ve always been right here.”

She pulls back, just enough to look up at my face as she scans my eyes, her expression unreadable. “You have, haven’t you?”

“I have,” I confess, with so much meaning behind those two simple words. “I always will be.”

Riley moves closer to me, wrapping her arms around me as she curls into my body. I don’t know how long we stay like that until I hear her breathing grow soft and even as she drifts asleep against me. I relish the way she feels, in her warmth and familiarity.

And the way she’s nestling herself deep inside my heart.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

RILEY

The cool air dances across my cheeks and I pull my jacket a little tighter around my body as we step up to the glass. Nonna looks over at me, a bright smile on her face, before glancing at Nova and Posey. Posey bounces up and down in Nova’s arms, her little voice growing louder as she points to Lincoln by the bench.

Nova asked me if I wanted to come with her and Nonna tonight to watch the guys. I haven’t been to a game recently and it’s nice getting out of the house for some time with my best friend. Nonna is practically one of the girls, anyway.

“Here he comes!” Posey exclaims, jerking her arm in the direction of Lincoln. A smile lifts my lips as I watch Nova move closer to the glass, holding Posey up to face Lincoln as he skates over to us.

He presses his hand to the glass and then blows both of them a kiss, his gaze lingering on Nova as he winks. Nonna stands to the side, watching the three of them with the most heartwarming look on her face. When she lost her daughter, Nova and Nash’s mom, it was very hard on her.

Their father had become a shell of a man, but was trying to keep it together for their sake. Nonna made sure she wasaround as much as she could be, although I know deep down she was struggling with her own grief while trying to mourn her daughter. A parent never thinks of losing their child, regardless of age. One night, many years ago, I found Nonna sitting out back at the Simmonses’ house, smoking a joint while she cried.

It was Nova’s first birthday without her mother. Everyone tried to make the day as special as they could while still honoring her memory. Nova got through the day better than I expected her to. She and Nash both mourned in their own way. Nova spoke of her frequently, claiming talking about her kept her memory alive. Nash internalized everything, never letting anyone see him crumble.

And Nonna—dear Nonna. She held everything together for both of them, along with their father. She carried her own grief, along with everyone else’s. It was the only time I ever saw her cry and to this day, no one else knows about it.

Everyone had disappeared into the house after the party and I went out back looking for my hair scrunchie I had lost while we were playing games in the yard. I stepped around their shed, thinking maybe it was back there, when I found Nonna sitting in the grass, a lit joint burning between her fingers and tears streaming down her face.

That night I sat in the cool grass with her and listened to the stories of Nash and Nova’s mom. I lived through Nonna’s memories with her until we circled back to her grief and she sobbed against my shoulder.

I never did find my hair scrunchie.

Moving closer to the glass, I look out at the ice, my heart stumbling over itself as I see him skating along the blue line. His stick is in his left hand, positioned in front of his body as he pushes a puck along with him. He leaves the puck by one of the dots on the ice and moves his right hand onto his stick as he begins to skate around, warming up the muscles in his legs.

Lincoln moves away from the glass after mouthing something to Nova and he skates over to where Nash is. Nash’s eyes roam over all of us, his eyes instantly finding mine from where he’s standing. He says something to Lincoln, nodding at him before the entire team starts to go through some of their warm-up drills.

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