“Okay. And then?”
“Then I took you to that lookout point that’s a small hike from the cabin. The one where you can see all of Beaver County.”
Her eyes widen. “I’d love to see that spot.”
“It’s a good place to think. I go there sometimes when...” I trail off. When my life situation gets too intense. When I can’t sleep trying to picture my future—or lack thereof.
“When what?”
“When I need perspective,” I say lamely. “Anyway, that’s where I took you. Then we watched a movie.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Which one?”
I hadn’t thought this far ahead, but suddenly it’s easy to imagine what I’d do if this were real. “Miracle, of course.”
She looks genuinely surprised. “You remembered that’s my favorite?”
“Jonah mentioned it once or twice,” I say, though the truth is I’ve always noticed what Sydney likes. It’s hard not to when she gets excited about things—her whole face lights up in a way that’s impossible to ignore.
“That’s... actually really thoughtful. Fake you has game.”
“Real me occasionally has moments,” I say, which earns me a laugh.
“Then what?”
“Then we hooked up.Definitely.”
She lets out a laugh, full-bellied and genuine, and I’m reminded how much I love it. Not the one she does on air, but this one—no restraints, that ends with a cute little snort. Finally, she says, “Fine. We hooked up. It was the best night of my life.”
The image forms vividly in my mind. God, if she only knew how much I wish all of those things could happen.
We continue filling in details about subsequent dates, our first fight over me being too closed off about my injury, which hits closer to home than I’d like, and how we eventually decided to keep things quiet until we were sure it was serious.
“And when did it get serious?” Sydney traces patterns in the water with her fingertips.
“A month ago, after my injury. You came to see me, and it made us realize how much our feelings were in this.”
“Fair enough.”
We shift to discussing the broadcast, which is safer territory.
“So the Trout, game one tomorrow,” she says, her face animated in a way that makes it hard to look away. “Kicking off the season against Seattle. What are they doing to compensate for missing their star player?”
“Coach is working around it,” I add, theweight of not being there heavier than I want to admit. “We’re deep this year, bringing up guys from the farm team to fill the gaps. We have to be.”
She nods, enthusiastic. “Exactly! I want to highlight that angle—how the team’s adapting without you. People eat that stuff up.”
We bounce ideas back and forth about the Boise hockey scene and local highlights. It’s surprisingly easy working with Sydney like this. She knows her stuff, and her passion for sports journalism is obvious.
“And we need to decide how... couple-y we’ll be on air tomorrow,” she suggests after we’ve outlined the main segments. “Marcus is probably going to introduce us as a couple during the broadcast.” Her face twists with worry, then it relaxes when she says, “Which will be fine because we’re telling Jonah tonight.”
“What time is his flight getting in?” The tension creeps into my muscles despite the soothing water.
“Not until six—” She cuts herself off, eyes going wide. “We’ll get him at the airport.”
“Right.”
Sydney scoots closer to me in the water. “We need to practice. The physical stuff. Holding hands, casual touches... kissing.”
