Page 42 of Hometown Halftime

She swallows them slowly, then sinks back into the pillows, exhaling as though the weight of the day is catching up all at once. Her hair falls forward over her cheek, soft and unruly.

Without thinking, I reach forward and gently slide the strand behind her ear.

She goes still and her breath stalls in her throat, then something flickers in her eyes—surprise first, then something warmer.

My fingers brush her skin for the briefest moment, but it feels seismic. A jolt that shoots through my hand, straight into the center of my chest. I pull back slowly.

She swallows, her voice soft. “You didn’t have to do all this.”

I sit on the edge of the bed, careful not to jostle her.

“Happy to help, Kinsey. We’re a team and a team sticks together.”

Her eyes search mine, then they fall to her hands in her lap.

“I’m sorry you had to see me this way.”

I reach out, tipping her chin up to look at me. “Don’t you dare be sorry. You didn’t have control over this. I’m just happy to help. I’m here if you need anything. And I mean that.”

She huffs out a breath. “Thank you.”

I adjust her blankets and make sure the remote is within reach.

“If you’re all set, I can head out.”

She nods and I turn to walk out of her room.

“Hey, Riley?”

I look back over my shoulder.

“Thank you,” she says. “Really.”

Warmth spreads through me.

“Anytime,” I tell her.

I flick off the overhead light, leaving the soft glow of the lamp beside her bed, and head for my truck.

Chapter nineteen

Riley

I barely slept last night. Every time I tried closing my eyes, my mind replayed yesterday afternoon. How Kinsey leaned into me, the sound she made when the pain hit, the way her hair felt between my fingers when I brushed it back.

And now the silence of the duplex leaves me alone with my thoughts.

My textbooks sit open on the counter. I should be working on a paper, but I’m too distracted. I only have an hour until I head to the gym for my training session, and I should be making the most of my time, but I can’t stop thinking about her.

A knock hits the door jolting me out of my spiral. I walk over and open the door to find Knox on the other side. I move to the side to let him in.

“Hey, Coach.”

The door clicks closed behind him. “Morning, Weston.”

He walks in and drops onto the couch, gesturing for me to sit with him. I follow and sit, waiting for him to tell me why he’s here.

“How’s your mom?” he asks.