Page 168 of Hometown Halftime

Riley fills the screen, sweaty and breathing hard from drills, wearing a sleeveless combine shirt while commentators ramble excitedly about his throwing stats and arm strength.

God, he’s still gorgeous.

But he looks different now. Broader through the shoulders and sharper around the jaw. There’s exhaustion sitting beneath his eyes now that wasn’t there before, like the last few months of prep have worn him down.

Even through the television, he still feels unmistakably like Riley.

I carry a tray of beers toward a table in the back while one of the commentators starts asking him questions.

“How’s it feeling being here this week, Riley?”

“It’s surreal,” he says with that grin that still wrecks me. “Definitely one of those lifelong dream moments.”

“Riley, a lot of people questioned whether a season away from football would impact your performance at the combine. Instead, you've put together one of the most impressive weeks of any quarterback in this draft class—a four point five-eight forty, a thirty-nine-inch vertical, and an outstanding throwing session. What's your response to those who questioned whether you could still perform at this level?”

“I understand why people had questions. Taking time away from football wasn't a typical path. But I never stopped working. I had responsibilities back home that mattered to me, and I'm proud of the way I handled both. At the end of the day, all I can do is show up, compete, and let the work speak for itself.”

I barely register the people around me while I make my way back toward the bar. Then I see Brynn squinting toward the television.

“Oh, my God.”

Knox looks up from his burger. “What?”

Brynn points toward the screen without taking her eyes off it. “Did Riley get a tattoo?”

Slowly, I turn toward the nearest television. Black ink stretches across his upper arm. The second the camera zooms in, I swear I feel my heart drop on the floor.

Knox narrows his eyes for another second before leaning forward.

“Is that a cat?”

Tears sting behind my eyes.

I shake my head. “No.”

Brynn looks at me sharply when my voice breaks.

“It’s a kitten.”

The camera angle shifts, giving me a clearer look at the tattoo wrapped around Riley’s upper arm. A tiny gray kitten with bright blue eyes stares outward with a stubborn expression, looking mildly annoyed at the entire world.

Exactly like me.

Oh, my fucking God.

The noise inside Gordy’s fades strangely around me while I stare at the screen. While I spent weeks trying to let him go, Riley permanently put me on his body.

Me.

Brynn’s eyes dart between me and the television in complete disbelief before she finally blurts, “Why on earth would he get a kitten tattoo?” Her gaze darts from the television to me, and then back to the television. “Holy Shit.”

Then the commentator laughs from the television.

“Alright, we've gotta ask. Is there a meaning behind the tattoo?”

For a second, Riley looks nervous. Then he glances down at his arm before smiling.

“Um, yeah,” he says shyly. “It’s a reminder of someone back home.”