Page 86 of Set Play

“And we just got back this morning.”

Niamh gets up to clean while Gracie and Reya process. When both girls shoot me a concerned glance, I stretch my hands out and smile warmly. “I’m okay, really. I mean, my ribs hurt, but I have meds to help. Other than that, the stitches itch like a bitch and I’m just sore.”

“I’m sorry. If I had known…” Reya trails off, dropping her gaze from mine.

“Hey. Look at me.” I wait for her earthly caramel eyes to meet the treetops of my emerald greens. When they finally do, I continue, “You didn’t know. I should’ve told you guys. Honestly, the comment was kind of funny. I mean talk about accuracy.”

My joke works, pulling a chuckle from her and a snort from Gracie, who stares at me for a second before prodding, “So, Reyes missed practice to fly all the way to Canada and even made up with your brother, and you still won’t admit your feelings yet?”

Now it’s my turn to duck my head as I try to hide the heat flooding my cheeks. “Well…I mean, I guess, it’s—” I stumble over the words, unable to hold onto my thoughts and feeling abruptly flustered.

Niamh meets my eyes and gives me her trademark reassuring smile, providing enough comfort that I can gather my thoughts. “I realized something while in the hospital…”

Deep breath. You can do this.

“I’m falling for him,” I whisper. Reya and Gracie don’t react; they just stare at me, eyes sparkling. “What?” I ask warily.

“Oh, you are so wearing his jersey for tomorrow's game,” Gracie says with a mischievous smile that brings to mind the one Lukas wears when he starts shit with Benji.

God, Gracie and Lukas against the rest of us would be devastating.

“That’s tomorrow’s problem. Tonight? We’re binging true crime documentaries, bitches!” Reya cheers before diving over the back of the couch for the remote. I don’t think that was intentional, but she pops up quickly, so I guess she’s okay.

As the three girls hustle to gather blankets, snacks, drinks, and everything else we could possibly need, a fond smile breaks across my face.

I’m so thankful for them. Two of them may be newer additions, but they all are the sisters of my heart.

“Quit fucking squirming! You’re gonna make me mess up and then I’ll be hella pissed and forced to sit on you while I do this. Is that what you want?” Gracie admonishes, flicking the tip of my nose with the makeup brush she’s wielding.

“I can’t help it. This chair isn’t exactly comfortable on my ribs,” I grind out through clenched teeth as she applies another layer of concealer over the bruise on my cheek.

She freezes mid-stroke and looks abashed as she steps back. “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t think about that. Would it be more comfortable if I got you a pillow or do you want to move onto the bed?”

“No, it’s okay. Just hurry up and finish. I’ll try not to fidget so much.”

Thankfully, she puts down the makeup brush after another few swipes and switches to the face paint she apparently brought with her.

“Remind me again…why can’t I see what you’re doing?” I ask with as little facial movement as possible, but wince when a second set of hands starts tugging at my hair. With Gracie drawing on my face, I can’t turn to see who it is. “OW, what the hell?”

“Whoops, sorry, I’m used to working with thicker hair. My old roommate’s hair was so thick, it felt like I was wrestling with it whenever she’d ask for help styling it,” Reya offers, parting my hair before pulling it up.

I hum in response, getting more impatient by the second. The two of them talk over me as they go about their respective tasks, but I zone out, reciting the plan we formed last night.

Listening to their drunk advice is either a great idea or terrible one…I wonder which one it will be.

Chapter 49

Mateo

Élise wasn’t in the player’s tunnel before the game.

Why wasn’t she there? Did something happen to her?

No, stop. She promised she’d text you if that were the case. She’s probably just running late.

Lukas knocks his shoulder into mine, jostling me from my thoughts. He doesn’t say anything, just raises a single eyebrow. I nod in response. I’m okay. Yet my eyes continue to scan the stands looking for a glimpse of her. Finally, I get one and it’s like everything else stops.

Her hair is in the two most adorable buns, and she has my number painted on her cheek. It’s covering a bruise, but it is still my number. I desperately want to see what she’s wearing but it’s not possible from here. Just knowing she’s here is enough. For now.