Page 51 of Fighting Spirit

The costume’s draped over a chair in the corner of the studio, mocking me. Sometimes I feel like I’m just playing dress up, avoiding my responsibilities. But whenever I head out on the field and hear the roar of the crowd, or give a hug to an excited kid, I know that it’s what I’m meant to be doing. I just need to figure out how to spend the next seventy years once I can’t be Gunther anymore…

Heading out into the chilly air, I squeak in surprise at the hulking shadow standing under a lamppost, like some spy from a film noir, ready to hand off a briefcase or perform a hit.

“Rowan?” I hiss out, the unmistakable head of hair picking up to reveal blue eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“Hey.” He scratches his neck the way he always does.

“Hey.” I raise my eyebrows expectantly. “What are you doing here?”

“I was gonna make a joke about coming to kidnap you, but it seemed like it might be too soon.”

“Good call,” I say dryly.

“Let’s go do something.”

My steps falter as I jerk back a little. I can’t say I was expecting to see him here. He kind of blew me off the last time we saw each other, and aside from some brief text exchanges, I’ve not really heard from him.

“Like what?” I ask, suspicion in every syllable.

“Whatever you want.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “Drive around? Anything.”

“Why?” I know I’m being difficult, but I can’t help but needle him.

He huffs in exasperation. “I don’t fuckin’ know, Ruth. Maybe because I like being around you?” He mumbles something under his breath that sounds a lot like‘Even when you’re being a brat.’

“You got a funny way of showing it.”

“The hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’ve barely heard from you since the game.” I scuff my toe against the asphalt. “I thought you were sick of me,” I mumble.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Rowan growls, closing the distance between us and pulling me into a tight hug. I stiffen for a second before sinking into his warm embrace. His shoulder is solid where I rest my forehead against it, his arms heavy around my back as he keeps me against him. His shirt smells like pine and I have to stop myself from balling my fists in it. “I thoughtyouwere done withme, you weren’t exactly blowing up my phone either.”

Fuck.

Maybe we’ve both just been circling, waiting for the other to show their belly first. I should be grateful that Rowan’s the one who cracked. If it were left up to me, we’d be in our forties wondering why we’d never texted again.

We stand for several long minutes, our breathing syncing as I soak in the warmth of his body. I’m not sure I’ve ever had a hug this good before, like my battery is getting plugged in to recharge.

“Come on.” He loosens one arm, keeping the other around my shoulders so he can tow me toward his truck.

“I thought you’d rethought the kidnapping?”

“I rethought making a joke about it. I was always gonna get you in the truck.”

“Do I get a say in this?”

“Do you want one?”

I think for a second before realizing that seeing Rowan is pretty much exactly what I needed after a shitty day.

“Nah.”

“Then get in the truck.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

ROWAN

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