Page 53 of Playing Rough

London's eyes light up. "Please tell me Marshmallow is real."

I chuckle, rubbing my neck. "Yeah, he was definitely real, fuzziest little thing. I cried for days when he died."

"Aww, little baby Riot. Don't worry, your secret soft side is safe with me," London says, squeezing my hand.

I love how he can tease me while also making me feel so seen.

Also, how the fuck is he so good at this game?

We continue the game as the coastline zips past in a blur. He tells me about the time he and his brother snuck into an R-rated movie and got caught. I admit my obsession with true crime podcasts. He tells me about how he hates clowns. I confess that I sometimes still look for my dad's approval, even though I know I'll never fully have it.

I find myself sharing things I've never told anyone—how lonely my childhood was, how I used to wish on stars for a friend who really knew me. How the wishing stopped when I started talking to FallingDown online.

London listens intently, no judgment. Just interest and understanding. With him, I feel safe removing the mask I wear with most people. For the first time in my life, I can simply be me.

When we stop for gas, London hops out to grab supplies. He returns with energy drinks, chips, and beef jerky.

I raise an eyebrow at his choices. "How the hell can you eat that shit and stay as jacked as you are?"

"Shut it, Kensington. Just because you have the diet of a constipated grandpa doesn't mean the rest of us can't live a little." He tears open a bag of chips defiantly with his teeth, flipping me off with his other hand.

"Hey, I'll have you know I get cravings just like anyone else. But they involve dark chocolate and decaf coffee instead of processed junk," I say like a tool because I feel like pissing him off. Yeah, I fully admit I can be an arrogant jackass about my food.

London just laughs and pops a chip in my mouth. "Uh, huh. Sure thing, gramps."

I can't help but smile as I chew. London just makes me feel so free to be myself. These moments with him are everything to me.

As we get back onto the road, our conversation picks right back up as the miles blur by. London asks about my childhood—what I was like as a kid. I share a funny story about the time my cousin Sebastian tricked me into eating a dirt because he wrapped it in a candy wrapper. The memory makes London laugh, eyes crinkling at the corners.

I ask about his hopes for the future after graduation. He goes quiet, gazing out the window for a long moment.

"I've always wanted to go pro, play in the NHL," he says finally. "That's why I came to Hollowgate, even though some said I'd never make it. Hockey's the only thing that's ever made sense in my life."

He looks back at me, vulnerable but determined. "Lately, though, I've started thinking about more than just the game. Building something real with you. I never thought I could have both, but now..." He squeezes my hand. "You make me feel like I can have it all."

Emotion wells in my throat, and I tighten my hold on him. "You're the most driven person I know, Hotshot. If you want the NHL, I know you'll make it happen. And I'll be right there cheering you on when you do."

“Fuck, no. You’ll be right there with me, going pro.”

My breath catches. I can almost see it. “Is it crazy to think that it could happen?”

He grins at me, that smile that makes my heart hurt. “It’s going to.”

We eventually reach the coast, all dark ocean-blue and edged by towering rocky cliffs. I pull into an overlook and we get out, the salt breeze tousling our hair. Below, waves crash and foam against jagged rocks.

I grab the picnic supplies while London scouts a spot for us to sit on the clifftop overlooking the endless Pacific. He lays out a blanket and we sit together, the only souls for miles. We just sit and eat, taking in the awesome view.

When we finish, London settles against my side and I wrap an arm around him. He's been quiet since we got here, lost in his own world.

"You okay?" I ask. "I know it's been a rough recovery this last week."

London sighs, dropping his head against my shoulder. "Yeah, just... doubts creeping in. About getting back to where I was."

I rub his arm. "Hey. You're the strongest person I know. You'll get through this and be better than ever. If you stop eating chips."

London laughs before he sits up and punches me. Then he falls back against my side. He turns his face into my neck and his lips brush against my tattoo when he speaks. "I'm trying. Just feels like everything's on the line, you know? Hockey, school. Us." His voice drops. "I can't lose any of it."

"You won't," I say fiercely. I cup his cheek, waiting until he meets my eyes. "You've got me, London. Every step. I’m in this."

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