17. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN #3
Benson comes over while she’s explaining how long it took to get forty-eight kids lined up for the picture. He slips an arm around her shoulders and pulls her into his side.
“I heard.”
Gianna looks up at him. “Heard what?”
“Mom called.”
Her expression immediately changes. “Why did Mom call you?”
Benson nods in my direction. “Because Rowan sent pictures.”
Gianna turns toward me. “You sent my mom pictures?”
“Benson asked.”
That softens her face in a way I’m getting better at recognizing. She doesn’t make a big deal out of it, but I can tell it matters.
Benson glances between us for a second before looking back at his sister. “She cried.”
Gianna groans and drops her forehead against his shoulder. “Oh my God.”
“She’s proud of you.”
“I know.”
“You should call her.”
“I will.”
Benson kisses the top of her head before letting her go. Then he looks at me. “Good goal.”
“Thanks.”
That’s all he says, but there’s something about the look that comes with it that makes me wonder exactly how much he’s noticing.
I don’t ask.
Later, Hawthorne fills up. Stanley orders enough food to feed everybody.
By eleven, people are spread across the kitchen and living room with plates balanced on their knees and drinks sitting wherever there’s room. Nobody is drunk. Nobody really has the energy after the day we’ve had.
Gianna ends up beside me on the couch. At first, we’re careful about it. There are a few inches between us, and both of us are pretending that it’s normal. Then her knee bumps mine.
A little later, her shoulder settles against me while she talks to Mara across the room. Eventually, she steals my drink, takes a sip, and puts it back between my legs like it belonged to her the whole time.
I don’t bother stopping her.
Stanley notices. He looks from her to me and then says absolutely nothing.
Around midnight, the house starts thinning out. Benson goes upstairs with Lucy. Blue and Melly leave. Percy disappears somewhere with Penelope. Stanley and Aspen get into a completely unnecessary argument about whether his game-winner was harder than my goal.
Gianna leans into my shoulder while they’re still going. “Come outside.”
I look down at her. “Why?”
“Because.”
That’s enough explanation. We go out through the kitchen door into the backyard, and the cold hits immediately. Gianna wraps her arms around herself and gives me an accusing look.
“You could’ve brought a coat.”
“I thought we were going six feet.”
“We are.”
“Exactly.”
She walks down the steps anyway, and I follow her far enough into the yard that the kitchen windows are behind us and nobody inside can see much more than shadows.
The second we’re out of sight, Gianna turns around and jumps.
I catch her on instinct, laughing as her arms go around my neck. “Jesus.”
“You scored.”
Then she kisses me. Hard enough that I have to adjust my grip under her thighs to keep her from sliding. There’s nothing careful about it now that we’re finally alone. She kisses me like I did something significantly more important than score one goal.
When she pulls back, she’s smiling. “That’s for the goal.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Only the goal?”
She kisses me again. “That’s for using the middle.”
I laugh against her mouth. “Anything else?”
“Yes.”
She kisses me a third time, slower this time. “That’s because I like you.”
That one gets me more than the others.
I look at her for a second, and she immediately notices.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Don’t get quiet.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
I shift her a little higher in my arms. “You had a good day.”
“So did you.”
“Yeah.”
Her hand comes up to my face, fingertips moving over my cheek like she isn’t thinking about doing it. For a moment, neither of us says anything. The house is still loud behind us, but from out here it feels distant.
Gianna glances back toward the kitchen windows. “Today felt weird.”
“How?”
She thinks about it before answering. “Good weird.”
“Okay.”
“Yeah.” Her thumb brushes once over my cheek. “I did my thing. You did your thing. And then somehow we both ended up back here.”
I understand what she means.
Her whole morning happened in the same building where I played tonight, but they were completely different worlds. She spent hours running something she built from scratch. I spent the night trying to help us claw another game out of February.
She stood at the boards this morning watching forty-eight kids skate because she made it happen. Tonight, I stood on the blue line and finally did the thing I’ve been trying to fix for two months. Now she’s in my arms in the backyard. It does feel connected somehow.
“Kind of feels like we won,” I say.
Gianna smiles. “Yeah.”
She kisses me again, slower than before, then rests her forehead against mine.
“We should go inside before my ass freezes.”
“Probably.”
“You can put me down.”
I don’t.
She smiles against my cheek. “Rowan.”
I turn toward the house with her still in my arms. “I’m not putting you down yet.”
She starts laughing loudly enough that I have to tell her to be quiet before somebody comes outside and finds us.
That only makes her laugh harder.
She buries her face in my neck, shoulders shaking against me, and I carry her back toward the house anyway.