Chapter Eighteen
KAI: IF YOU don’t text him soon it’s going to fuck up his pregame routine.
Sammie: What are you talking about, you’re the most important part of his routine
Sammie: You and whatever freaky shit the two of you get up to on game days
Kai: And he’s a nosey fucker.
Kai: You know this.
Sammie: FINE omg no one warned me that it would be like having two annoying brothers
Kai: Because of me, you get a filtered version of Attie. Imagine if he was still running loose in the streets, your problem and your problem alone.
Sammie: …fair point
~
Sammie: What do you want?
Atticus: A little birdie told me you’ve been making more videos with my captain
Atticus: And that a new one went up last night
Sammie: Attie. Please tell me Kai isn’t still watching them
Sammie: You’re going to end up single again if so
Atticus: Do not fret, dear sister
Atticus: He doesn’t watch, he just spies to see when you post
Atticus: He is worrieeeeed too
Sammie: I’m going to give his seat away at the game
Atticus: DON’T
Atticus: I NEED HIM
Atticus: POST-SEASON IS ON THE LINE
Atticus: Besides, we’re also a little proud of you
Atticus: I’m proud of you
Atticus: You’re doing something for you and I think that’s neat
Sammie: Neat
Atticus: Yes neat!
Atticus: Just promise me you won’t get in over your head
Atticus: Please
Sammie: I won’t
Sammie: Promise
Atticus: So have you fucked him yet?
Sammie: Jesus christ
Sammie: What is WRONG with you
Atticus: Look
Atticus: I know what good sex does for the game
Sammie: I don’t want to talk to you anymore
~
Ivy: hey can we talk tonight after the game???
Sammie: Sure. Everything good?
Ivy: everything’s fine! it’s just been a while since we’ve had a chance to catch up
Ivy: in person :D
Sammie: After the game it is
Sammie: Sorry, life’s been a lot lately
Ivy: no worries! :)
Kieran stared down at the stack of papers that had been sitting on his countertop for weeks. What was it he had said to Sammie as they’d driven back to the city the weekend before?
I think you’ve been handed a tough deal.
The contract staring up at him guaranteed Kieran two more seasons with the Cats. Two more years of getting to play the sport he’d always loved. A signature on an ink-filled page was all it would take from him.
Tonight. Kieran chewed his bottom lip, turning toward the door. He snatched up his gym bag, grabbed his keys, and headed down the steps.
His team would win this game, securing their spot in the post-season tournament that would take place in Los Angeles. And then he would sign the contract.
Those words he’d offered to Sammie kept playing on a loop in his head. A tough deal. His own situation didn’t begin to compare. Where she was saddled with a money pit and bittersweet memories, all Kieran had to do was make up his mind once and for all and find the courage to put pen to paper.
Because how could he ever help Sammie to be brave if he wasn’t brave for himself?
It was sunny, a breeze that was just too warm for comfort ruffling Kieran’s shower-damp hair as he made his way to his truck.
He’d hoped the shower would settle his nerves more than it had.
There had been butterflies stirring up a frenzy in his gut since the night before, since something possessive and unknown had come over him at seeing Sammie in Talia’s arms. Or maybe it was just the fact that it was game day and the tournament was on the line.
Either way, Kieran’s pregame ritual hadn’t afforded him the relief it usually did.
Nerves weren’t necessarily bad, though. He felt alert, ready to rally his guys for the win they’d been working toward all season.
Kieran’s cell phone rang as he tossed his bag into the passenger seat. He tugged the device from his back pocket and frowned at his mom’s name on the screen. Meredith never called so close to a game, she knew too much talking beforehand only served to ratchet Kieran’s nerves up a notch.
“Hey,” he said, turning his key in the ignition. “What’s up?”
“Your father just got a call from his doctor.”
Kieran froze. Sweat prickled on his skin, beading along his hairline. “What’s wrong?”
“They’ve decided to schedule him for a hip replacement.”
The heat was overwhelming in the cab of his truck. Kieran turned the air conditioner on full blast, his body moving of its own accord.
Was it really that bad? Kieran’s mind spun around the words, over and over, a loop of disbelief and distress that was closing in more with every pass.
“The soonest they can get him in for surgery is four weeks from now,” Meredith continued.
A month. That would be the middle of the tournament.
“Mom,” Kieran began. His voice cracked. “I didn’t know it was this bad.”
“I know, sweetheart.” Meredith sounded close to tears herself. “You know how he is, always wants to do everything himself, keep it all tucked in and buried away. He doesn’t know I’m calling you, said the news could keep until after the game. But Kieran…”
His chest ached at her tear-stained words. “I’m glad you called me.” And he was, even as he could feel his mind turning in a dangerous direction, as focus on what he needed to do, what he needed to be for his team began to slip away on that warm summer breeze.
“When will you be home next?” The question caught him off-guard. He and Sammie had talked about another trip down to their old family homes soon, but they hadn’t settled on an exact date. He was supposed to help her finish fixing that gutter.
Kieran swiped at his damp cheeks. “I don’t know yet. Let me talk to Coach tonight.”
“We need you, Kieran,” Meredith said. “I need you. Your father’s just so stubborn. Maybe with you here we can bully him into taking better care of himself.”
With Kieran there. She said it like it was a permanent thing, a done deal. An image of the contract waiting in his kitchen flashed in his mind.
“Let me talk to Coach,” he said again. There was too much emotion in his voice, more than he wanted her to hear. Kieran cleared his throat in an attempt to dispel the lump still growing there. “I’ll call you back tonight.”
“I love you.” He could picture the small smile on his mother’s face as she said the words, the way one cheek would dimple more than the other. “Good luck tonight.”
“Love you too, Mom.”
His phone went silent. Kieran’s hand shook as he dropped it into the cupholder next to him. The truck’s cab had cooled, but his skin still felt clammy.
Surgery. His father needed surgery. Kieran had known he was in pain, had seen first hand how stiffly he walked, how he winced going up the front porch stairs. But Kieran hadn’t realized it had gotten this bad.
His cheeks were still wet, the blast from the air conditioner chilling the tears on his skin. The ache in his chest continued to grow, until he could feel that same dull pain radiating through his entire being.
“Fuck,” he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut, his grip too tight on the steering wheel.
The tears were for his father. For his mother, too. But they were also for himself.
Suddenly, tonight’s game was far more important than it had been before that call. Because a win for his team was no longer all that was on the line. It was now all the more important that they make it into the tournament, since it might very well be Kieran’s last.
He wanted to play for just a while longer.
“Sammie!”
Sammie whirled around at Ivy’s voice echoing down the crowded corridor. Her friend was zipping through the throngs of fans, most of whom sported maroon and gold to match their favorite team. A few splashes of teal represented their opposition, the Seattle Sharks.
Kieran’s old team.
“Hey,” Ivy said breathlessly, bouncing to a stop in front of Sammie. They moved as one to the edge of the hall, out of the way of people searching for their assigned sections. “So?”
Sammie raised a brow, even as her stomach swooped in a not-so-good way. “So what?” She played dumb, hoping Ivy wouldn’t pry too much.
Ivy sighed, but her eyes creased at the edges as she smiled. “So,” she began, “how did things go with Kieran last weekend?”
Sammie’s brain spun out as bad as her tires had the time she got her Jeep stuck in mud while camping with Atticus. “Fine,” she finally said. Ivy gaped.
“Just fine? Sammie, girl, you’re better than that.”
Ivy was being so sincere, she seemed truly excited for Sammie.
Excited to hear the most salacious of details about the past week.
Details that Sammie was not prepared to divulge.
Ivy thought Kieran driving Sammie home was the most exciting thing that had happened between them so far, and Sammie wanted to keep it that way for just a little longer.
“He helped a lot at the house,” Sammie continued, cutting off as she narrowly avoided getting mowed down by a gaggle of forty-something year old men who seemed really excited for this game. The echoes of their whoops and less-than-sober chanting whirled around Sammie, making it hard to think.
“That’s it?” Ivy pressed. “You didn’t make a move?”
Oh, Sammie had made a move. A couple of them, actually, and she still hadn’t been able to fully wrap her head around everything that had gone down between them. All the videos. Their evening out, dancing under soft lights.
She was teetering on a ledge, a seesaw on a cliff, tipping slowly back and forth.
“No. Nothing happened.”
Sammie had never been much for lying. She wasn’t good at it, had never figured out how to school her features to match the false words.
Ivy’s eyes narrowed, the slightest movement that was gone in a blink.
“Oh,” she said. The light in her voice had dimmed.
“Well, I’m glad you had help with the house.
Let me know next time and I’ll pitch in, too.
” She paused, glancing at her smartwatch.
“I need to go, Doctor Young wants med staff to meet up before the first set.”