“Terrified?” I say.
She thinks about it. “Right kind of terrified.”
I nod once.
She’s still looking at me. That specific look — the one where she’s figured something out and decided not to say it yet. I’ve learned that look. I could pick it out of any crowd.
I could pick her out of any crowd.
“Four days,” she says.
“Yeah.”
“Cup Final.”
“Yeah.”
“The Reapers.”
“Yeah.”
She takes a breath. Lets it out. “Okay.”
“Okay.”
She texts me at 12:07 AM.
Nova:
my lips are still tingling.
Me:
I know another set of lips I’d like to make tingle.
Nova:
shut up jax you’re a pig.
Nova:
no seriously, did you see it. the kiss is everywhere. Cyclones goalie and the journalist embedded with the team.
Me:
We’re famous?
Nova:
yeah…LOL
I open Twitter.
The photo’s everywhere — her hands on my jersey, mine on her face, the whole arena behind us still going. Aurora took it. Of course she did.
I look at it.
A smile creeps up the corner of my mouth.
