“Yeah. Thanks.” His fingers weave through the ends of my hair, combing through the strands falling across his shoulder. I tilt my head, allowing him more access.

I want to ask him why he’s here. What made him decide to stay home instead of going to a party tonight like usual. But I’m worried it might fracture this moment, might not be an answer I’m hoping for, so I stay silent.

“You ever been to a game?”

I scan his expression, trying to read the subtext of his question in the curves and angles of his face. “Last season, I went to a couple.”

All I get in response is a vague hum. Was that his way of asking me to come? I know Sydney goes to the ones she can, but I’ve always avoided them, aside from the few times she begged me to join.

The two I went to last season were uncomfortable for me. I already admitted I associate him with the sport. Connecting the lines between that and me not going seems simple, but he still asked.

“Are you cold?” Before I can answer, Holden is pulling an afghan off the back of the couch and draping it over my legs.

I wasn’t cold, but the weight of the soft blanket feels nice.

“Um, thanks.”

“Uh-huh.” There’s a twinkle in his blue eyes, a glint that makes my heart race.

Sydney walks out of the kitchen holding a big bowl of popcorn, with Graham right behind her.

Surprisingly, neither of them comment on Holden’s appearance or seem to notice how close we’re sitting together. Graham greets Holden with a nervous smile. I guess the threat I overheard is still fresh in his mind.

Sydney and Graham settle back on the couch, and the movie starts to play again. I relax back against the cushions, shifting a little closer to Holden and hoping Sydney doesn’t notice. She seems totally wrapped up in Graham, giggling at something he’s showing her on his phone. I’m happy for her. Slightly resentful they picked a fantasy film and aren’t even watching it. There’s an African cats documentary I’ve been dying to watch.

A warm hand settles on my thigh, and thoughts of television selections are suddenly irrelevant.

I tense, then glance at Holden. He appears focused on the screen, but one corner of his mouth is lifted.

His hand moves upward, slowly, and I realize why he draped the blanket over me. Sydney giggles next to me, right as he reaches the waistband of my pajamas.

I inhale sharply, glancing back and forth between him and the screen. He looks totally focused on the movie, but one finger plays with the drawstring. Every nerve ending in my body seems to focus on that one spot.