10. Adrianna
Adrianna
I am sitting on my couch, staring at my phone.
He must be super pissed if he hasn't texted me back yet.
We were waiting for him to come out when my mom called me and said my little brother had got hurt at his game.
I don't know what she thought I could do, but I raced home, continually calling him until finally, his best friend answered my call.
He said Jackson rolled his ankle and should be fine.
They pulled him out of the game so that it didn't get hurt any worse since they were looking good for playoffs.
He promised he would have Jackson call me when he got back from the physical therapist, which he did.
But I texted Luka thirty minutes ago, and I still hadn't heard from him.
Maybe I finally pushed him away one too many times.
If that is the case, then I am glad he is walking away now.
I have learned over the years not to make myself less for anyone.
If he can't put up a little fight, then I don't want him.
The thought does make me sad because, even though I was pushing against it, I was really starting to like him.
There is a knock at my door and I am guessing it's the food I ordered.
I am still staring at my phone when I open the door.
Before I can look to see who it is, I am wrapped up in strong arms. His smell is the first thing to hit me.
It's the same smell he had on his jacket mixed with soap.
His hair is still damp from his shower. I can feel him press his face into my hair and take a deep breath.
"Are you okay, Gattina?" I am so overwhelmed that he showed up here to check on me; I am not even pissed he keeps calling me kitten.
I run my hand over the back of his head, "I am fine. What are you doing here?"
He pulls back from me but doesn't let me go. He leads us into the apartment and goes to close the door when someone knocks on it.
"Sorry, I got your food?" The kid makes it sound like a question like he doesn't know if he has the right house.
"Yes, thank you." I pulled out some cash and hand it to him for his tip. Luka takes the bags from the kid.
"Are you Luka Rizzoli?" The kid is staring at him in awe.
"I am." Luka tips his head to the kid.
"Great game tonight, Man. Is there any way I can get an autograph?
" The kid reaches into his pocket, presumably for something Luka can sign.
Luka looks at me. I can see the apology written on his face.
This is actually part of him being an athlete that I don't mind.
I love seeing people react with fans. It reminds us they are human, just like us.
"Definitely, kid. Come on in and I will get a pen and paper." I motion for the kid to come inside and the smile he gives me is worth having him in my house.
I pull out a notebook and pen, handing them to Luka.
"What's your name, kid?" Luka holds the pen to the paper.
"Actually, can you make it out to my little sister?
She loves you. She watches you play every game.
She never misses. My parents even paid for some package so she could watch you when you were playing away.
" Luka looks at the kid. He can't be more than 19.
The fact that he cares enough to do that for his sister makes my eyes water.
"What's her name?" Luka writes her name on the paper and signs it. He then flips to another page and signs one for the kid. "What's your parent's name? I would love to have some tickets waiting for your family at the next home game."
The kids' eyes light up, and then they dim a bit. "Thanks for the offer. My sister is sick, and we don't take her anywhere around a lot of people. It isn't good for her immune system. But she will love this! Thanks."
Luka's eyes go wide and he looks from me to the kid. "Okay, Man. I hope your sister starts to feel better. Hopefully, this will help." He hands the boy the papers and I lock the door behind him.
Luka is standing over the takeout bags with his head hanging down. I place my hand on his back and rub small circles between his shoulder blades. I am not sure if it will help soothe him, but I hope so. "Are you okay?" I keep rubbing circles until he finally speaks without lifting his head.
"I don't know how much you ordered, but can I stay for dinner?" His voice makes my heart ache for him.
"Of course. Can you eat Mexican during the season?" I know my brother treats his body like a temple during the season. I don't know if Luka does the same thing.
"Who the hell would pass up Mexican?" He laughs and finally lifts his head as he takes the containers out of the bags. "Were you having anyone over?"
"No, why?" I take down some paper plates and get out silverware.
"This is a lot of food for just you."
"I couldn't decide what I wanted to eat. My brain wasn't working well." I lift a shoulder and pass him a plate.
He looks at me for a moment and then takes my plate out of my hand, setting both of them on top of the containers. He steps toward me, taking my face in his giant hands. "What's the matter, Baby. What happened today? How can I help fix it?"
I can't speak. I just stare at his deep brown eyes.
They feel so warm and look at me with such care.
I have never had anyone ask me how they can help fix something.
I have always been the fixer. The doer. I have always been the caretaker.
I spend a minute just taking in the feeling of weightlessness I feel in my soul.
A moment of someone else taking the burden.
If only for a second. I realize that tears are forming in my eyes, and I blink them away.
"Adrianna, what happened."
"My brother got hurt at his game," I whispered, trying to hold on to the feelings I was having for just a little while longer.
"Is he okay? Do you need to go to him? I can have Liam get the jet ready for you if Romeo isn't using it.
If he is, I can get Jake's." One hand drops from my face and reaches for his pocket, I am assuming to take out his phone.
I grab his hand and bring it back to my face.
Hating that his touch is bringing me peace I have never had.
I close my eyes and realize I don't hate it.
I hate the fact that I have gone my whole life without knowing this feeling.
Of course, I would be feeling it with someone who will probably not remember my name next month.
That thought brings me back to reality. The reality, I know.
I open my eyes and smile at him, bringing his hands away from my face.
"That is okay. He is fine. My mother just overreacted. I am sorry I left without saying bye to you and thank you. I really did have a great time, and you played so well." I stepped around him and started dishing out the food.
He takes the plates from me. "Table or couch?"
"Couch. I was going to put my brother's game on.
I recorded it since I was at your game. I don't want to see him get hurt, but I need to watch him play.
He asks me questions to make sure I did.
" I walk to the couch and sit down. I grab my plate from him after he sits beside me.
His large frame takes up most of my small couch and his knees are bent so much between the sofa and the coffee table that he can't be comfortable. I take my foot and push it away some.
"I would love to watch it with you."
I start the recording and we watch the first 30 minutes of the game almost in silence while we eat. He asked me which one my brother was and how he liked playing. If he had any friends on the team and if I had ever been to one of his games.
"Yes, but the one with Penelope next month is my first time going to watch him this year."
"You and Penelope are close?" He sets our plates on the coffee table and turns his body to face me.
"She is my best friend. The only best friend I have ever had."
"That can't be true. You are amazing. I am sure you had lots of best friends in school." He looks at me in shock.
"No, I was too concerned with being the perfect student, the perfect daughter and sister.
I didn't have time for friends." I am not sure why I am sharing this with him.
Maybe it's because I am so sick of carrying it around by myself.
It could be because I know in a couple of months, Luka and I will be nothing but a memory, and I feel safe giving him my secrets.
It is his turn to shock me when he says, "I understand that."
"You understand that? You are hockey's golden boy.
You are an amazing Goalie and you are helping lead your team to the playoffs.
You have an amazing family that loves you.
A niece and nephew that worship the ground you walk on.
I have to make sure I am perfect so my family still loves me.
I need to make sure I am the best at my job so they respect me.
I need to be the best friend I can be so I don't lose her.
Someone that has to be perfect so I don't lose who I am. "
He laughs, "Jake is the golden boy, Gattina.
Sorry to disappoint you. You are just stuck with an okay Goalie and an alt captain who isn't the right person for the job.
A Zio who has to make sure he is the fun one so the kids will want to hang out with him.
And a brother and son who has to make sure he is happy so he can make everyone else happy.
" He laughs again, but this time, I can tell it's forced.
"Is that how you see yourself?" I turn my body more so we are lined up face to face.
"Have you ever felt that you have to be perfect? That if you aren't the perfect person for everything and everyone, it will all fall apart?" he asks me, and I nod because I know exactly how that feels.
"My Pops is sick, my team is going through transition, my family is going through a leadership transition, the guys are all finding their loves and I am sitting here just trying to hold it all together as the fun, goofy, will make sure everyone has a good time, Luka."
"I am sorry, Luka. I didn't know." I lean into him and place my hand on his cheek. He leans into it and closes his eyes. "How can I help you?" At this moment, I will help him in any way I can, however long this thing between us lasts.
"I know you don't want me. I understand you don't want to be with me. That you are just being nice because I am a pushy asshole." He pauses for a second, opens his eyes and stares into mine. "Can I just hold you for a little bit? I think that would help."
I want to argue with him. Tell him I do want him.
I want to be with him, but I am afraid to give my heart to him and watch him toss it aside when something new and shiny shows up.
I couldn't survive him making a fool out of me publicly when we finally went our separate ways.
To have everyone pick apart everything that I am when I am with him.
For women to say I am not good enough, for men to think I am a slut because I am with a hockey player.
I want to do all that. But I don't. Instead, I nod to him and climb next to him as he lays down on my couch.
His big body goes from one side to the other.
He moves over some, and I get stuck between him and the back of the couch.
With his arm around my back, he pulls me so I am halfway laying on him.
I place my head on his chest and listen to his sturdy heartbeat.
For some reason, the sound is soothing to me, and I close my eyes, snuggling into his body.
He squeezes me tighter and places his chin on my head.
I can feel him take a breath and then press his lips on my head.
"If you let me, I would like to help carry some of your burden, " he says. I swallow to stop the sob from trying to break free. We don't say anything as we lay there.