Page 136 of When You Wish Upon a Wideout

Sienna had been curled up on the love seat, snoring gently after finally surrendering to her exhaustion. And even though the hospital room had been filled to the brink with anxiety and fear of the unknown the night before, a new day had come and cleared the air.

That had been nearly three weeks ago.

Beau sighed. Sienna had been right about what she said before they got on the hot-air balloon.“None of this was real.”It wasn’t, Beau knew. Life wasn’t always sunrises and sunsets, jumping into the freezing ocean with no consequences. It wasn’t always making love in the middle of the afternoon with the windows open, the cool ocean breeze chilling their skin while their bodies burned together. But that didn’t mean life had to be bleak all the time, either.

Beau thought back to the hospital room—to Grace and Molly’s laughter bouncing between an IV pole and a monitor, happy echoes between scary words like “biopsy” or “leukemia.” Their faces and Sienna’s sleepy snores, Beau realized, made the room that had been scary and dark the night before lighter and brighter.

Stripping his gloves, Beau tossed them into his locker before slamming the door shut.Life is what you make of it and who you make it with. And there had been no one beside Beau while he was trying to live the way he thought he should—achieving dreams on the turf—instead of living the way he had wanted.

With her.

He pulled his phone out of his bag. Beau had given Sienna a full day before he reached out, but his call went unanswered. And several of his texts.

I can only say I’m sorry and that I love you.

I hope Grace is okay and that you’re home.

Can we talk?

Sienna had finally responded earlier in the week.

You need to give me more time.

Beau deserved the unease that struck him when he had read her response.Maybe I should’ve told her about the letter.But what Beau had wanted since the night he walked into Maloney’s after seeing Sienna at the game was to pick right back up where they had left off, even if he had told her he hadn’t because he didn’t want to face the truth. The truth was Sienna had been hurting and carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders when he should have been there to take off whatever load he could at the most, and at the least, just let her know she wasn’t alone, to whisper that things would be okay no matter what, to tell her that—heads or tails—he loved her no matter what and wasn’t going anywhere.

Opening the message thread to Sienna, he quickly typed.

When you told me about the motorcycle wish, we were on the roof eating strawberry shortcake. It was the night before I took you to the lake.

Beau hit send before sighing and typing again.

I built the swing that morning before I picked you up so you could fly asap.

The winning word in Scrabble on our first Valentine’s Day was AXEL.

Placing the phone back in his bag, Beau hung his head and headed to the shower.

I didn’t want to waste a second making your wishes come true back then,he wanted to tell Sienna,so I jumped at the chance to make them all true now.

But Beau didn’t want to type that message or even say it on the phone. He wanted to cup her cheek and grow lost in her scent, the smoothness of her skin, whisper the words against her soft, plump lips. With his body, Beau wanted to show Sienna just how deep his love flowed for her—from top to bottom, inside and out. It was an amount incapable of measurement, one that grew despite distance and time, kept promises and broken ones, small, quiet wishes and big dreams.

Beau’s fist clenched beneath the hot stream of the shower in frustration. His love for her was still there, filling him to the brink. And he wouldn’t stop giving it to her.

* * *

“Thatta boy. Higher knees, higher knees!” Beau watched Damien’s feet float through the ladder. “Break!” He tossed the ball, and it landed in the teenager’s hands.

Damien took a few strides down the field before looping around, returning to Beau, and tossing him the ball. “Better, right?”

“Way better.” Beau handed him a bottle of water and looked down at his watch. “Why don’t we stretch quickly. Your Mom said I kept you too long last time.”

What Beau had anticipated as being a one-time coaching session with Damien had grown into something semi-regular. It had been Beau who suggested it. Damien, a high school junior, had raw talent that needed to be fine-tuned. But he had a good attitude, a fun personality, and was willing to listen.Easy to coach, Beau thought.

“You got plans this weekend?” Damien asked. “Bet you don’t get the chance to have a lot of fun once preseason starts.”

“You’re right about that,” Beau said, trying not to be too soured by Damien’s innocent words, which just reminded Beau he now had plenty of time on his hands and little plans—apart from the Disney World trip.

Beau would soon be back to full-force football, sleeping in a hotel for a few weeks, isolated only with his team. In the past, it had been something he looked forward to, narrowing down his focus, cutting out loud voices—especially Chase’s—gearing up for another opportunity to chase his dream down the sidelines.

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