Page 93 of Scoreless Nights

Gloria’s tears were still coming down and she hugged my dad, burying her wet cheeks into his chest as he answered me. “You have both of our blessings.”

Once Gloria stopped crying, she offered me a cup of coffee, and we sat together for a bit. I told them about my upcoming games, and that I would use my new charter flight connections to get them to the game in style. Gloria was more excited than I had ever seen her, and told me she couldn’t wait to see the look on Lily’s face.

When I was just about to leave, I decided I had one more thing I needed to clear the air about. Standing there in the exact spot I got angry at my dad for hiding Lily’s heart disease from me, I looked him in the eye.

“Thank you,” I swallowed hard. “You took care of her heart for me when I wasn’t ready to do it myself. You made sure she had everything she needed, tried to give her more than she thought she wanted, and honored her wishes, empowering her more than you probably realize. I’ve got it from here, Dad.”

Instead of a hug, Dad reached his hand out to shake mine, trying to fight back the emotions on his face. “I know you do.”

* * *

Lillian

“Gonna be another scoreless night for Atlanta,” Cruz yelled toward the suite where Mariana and I watched the Inferno with a few of his teammate’s friends and family. It was their redemption game after coming up short the year before.

Cruz swore he never regretted walking off the field that night against LA, but beating Atlanta to solidify their spot in the playoffs was going to feel extra sweet to him.

The entire game, I was either holding Mariana’s hand, jerking side to side as if that would help Cruz from where I was sitting, or pacing the back of the suite with Erin. She had spent most of the game next to Ash, but like me, she had to get up and move every once in a while.

Right before halftime, Atlanta started driving down the field, and was wide open. When their midfielder took the shot, Cruz blocked it and then wrapped his hands around the ball to prevent a rebound. But as he did, the midfielder kicked anyway, and took his cleats right to Cruz’s hands.

“Fuck!” I heard Cruz yell from across the field.

The other player was penalized, but Cruz was shaking his hands and pulling his gloves off in obvious pain. Trainers ran out to him, and Mariana had to hold me back and remind me I wasn’t Cruz’s doctor.

“He’ll be fine,” she whispered. “He needs to shake it off.”

I got up to stand behind the seats during that last minute of the half, and when the whistle blew, I mumbled about needing something, and went out the side door then down the tunnel where the players would walk. Rhys saw me against the wall and laughed, but gave me a wink before he passed by. Tripp stuck a hand out for me to high five and also laughed. They knew I was worried about Cruz. It was what we did with each other—overly panicked and overprotected one another.

Just because Cruz didn’t have a heart condition didn’t mean he didn’t need me.

“Chica loca, ¿qué estás haciendo?”Cruz asked when he saw me.

I ignored trying to translate after I heard the word “crazy” and reached for his hands. “Let me see.”

Blood was everywhere and his fingers were already swelling. “It's not as bad as it looks.”

“Looks like your hand is broken.”

“Nah,” he shrugged. “It's just a little ugly. Won’t stop me from blocking the ball for another half. Nor will it stop me from doing anything else.”

His low timbre made me look up and into his eyes. Then I looked around to see who else may have heard him, but it was just us. The team had already gone through, and everyone else was doing their jobs.

“Come here,” he whispered, then pulled me into a door that was slightly ajar.

The door slammed shut, my back was pushed against the wall, and Cruz’s lips were on mine before I could even see where we were. Just like all of our kisses, it instantly escalated, and I forgot to even care where we were.

“I love your shirt,” he moaned, holding my neck so my lips couldn’t get too far from his.

“Uh huh,” I hummed back, thinking of my “Cruz doesn’t Lose” shirt that I had made.

“I need you to bend over, Señorita,” he turned me around and took his mouth to my neck as his hands skated down my stomach and into the waistband of my jeans. He popped the button open and started pushing them down before I could even register what was going on.

“Wait!” I put my hand against the wall to steady myself but Cruz didn’t stop moving. “That isn’t why I—.”

“No time to wait,” he kissed my neck again. “If I’m not inside you before the end of the half, they’ll have to play without me because I’m not going back out there until I fuck you.”

“But—”

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