Page 8 of Make Your Play

“Try me.”

She stares at me for a moment, a ragged breath escaping her as it shakes her entire body. The tears have slowed down and her sobbing has subsided, but she’s still visibly upset. I refuse to believe there isn’t something we can do to fix whatever the hell the problem is.

“My health insurance barely covers any maternity care. I’ve been paying out the ass because of me being high risk and if they put me on bed rest, I’m going to drain my entire savings.”

My eyes widen. “Why are you high risk?”

“Because my body hates me.” She snorts, another tear falling. “I started to have symptoms of PoTS again, so they’ve been keeping a close eye on my heart rate and blood pressure.” She pauses, rolling her lips between her teeth to bite back another cry. “They’ve been a little worried because I’ve had more swelling than they expected so far.”

My brain feels like it’s tripping over itself, trying to play catch-up as I’m blindsided by this overload of information from Riley. In all the years I’ve known her, she never once mentioned any health issues when we were younger. I knew she was pissed when she had to get insurance since she works for herself, but she never disclosed any information.

And she sure as hell didn’t tell me she was having any recent issues.

“What are your symptoms? What are the doctors saying?” The words tumble out in a panicked rush. “Are you okay? Is the baby okay?”

“He’s fine.”

My breath catches in my throat. “He? You found out?”

Riley made it clear from the start that she didn’t want to know what she was having. She wanted it to be a surprise and told everyone she’d know what to name it when she met the baby. It was pretty unconventional, but no one questioned Rileybecause she was always going to do what she wanted to do in the end.

Her lips pull downward as she nods. “During one of the ultrasounds, the tech made a mistake and she addressed the baby as ‘he.’” She sighs, shrugging as her face starts to crumble again. “It’s okay, it’s fine.” She laughs, letting out a deep breath as she collects herself.

“What are your symptoms, Riley?”

“If I change positions too quickly, or sometimes just randomly, I get dizzy and lightheaded. It makes me feel like I’m going to pass out and sometimes like I can’t breathe. It usually subsides after I sit down, but it’s a little jarring.”

“Okay,” I say, collecting myself as the panic starts to dissipate. My own heart still has a mind of its own in my chest, but it’s a steadier beat. Having the information means I can find a solution now. I can fix this for her. “So, we need to make sure you aren’t overdoing things.”

“I mean, I don’t know what the hell to do, Nash.” She wipes the tears away from her cheeks. “If I can’t work, I’m not going to be able to afford any of my medical bills.”

I watch her for a second, my mind running wild with a million different thoughts. There has to be something I can do to help her. Literally anything.

“I’m sorry,” she mutters, her head hanging in defeat as she stares down at her hands. “I didn’t mean to lay all this on you. The massage was such a thoughtful gift but it sent me spiraling because I don’t even know if I can get one with these issues now?—”

“Hey,” I cut her off, sliding my hand beneath her chin as I turn her head back to face me. Her eyes meet mine in a rush and I brush away a stray tear, my fingers lingering on the side of her face as I stare into the depths of her irises. “We will figure this out, okay?”

“Nash, you don’t have to help me. I’ll manage.”

“I’m going to politely ask you to shut up, Riley.” My hand stops beneath her chin. “This isn’t up for debate.”

“My problems aren’t yours.”

A smile lifts the corners of my lips. “They are now.”

CHAPTER THREE

NASH

“That isn’t the hole you’re supposed to stick it in.”

My brow furrows as I watch Carson with a twinge of frustration. We’ve been wasting time trying to figure out which lock the key fits into and he has tried the same one three times now.

Caleb whips his head over to look at his brother and me. “That didn’t sound right.”

“Well, then you come over here and babysit your little brother,” I tell him in a huff, running a hand through my hair as I glance up at the clock on the wall. “We’ve already wasted fifteen minutes on the first clue.”

“I got it!” Carson exclaims from beside me as he fiddles with the lock on a separate box. “It was hidden under this other box.”

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