When Reese’s name was announced and he jogged out onto the court, a roar sounded through the entire stadium. Those blue lights waved around, and everyone was in a frenzy.

The camera zoomed in on Reese, and he wiped away a tear, blinking to stop the rest. He dipped his head to the crowd, then turned to look where I was.

My hand hadn’t left the glass, and I leaned forward.

The entire arena was Seattle Strong for Reese that night.

Chapter Fifty-Three

Once the game ended, we remained in the suite. Most of the others filtered out right away, but a few remained. Marie was standing point guard for me. It was too much. The game had been emotionally exhausting.

Reese played and he played with his whole heart, but there’d been a few camera cuts to him when he’d been caught blinking back some tears. Every time I wanted to go to him. Every time I wanted to take away his pain. Every time I could do nothing.

Our small crew remained in the corner. I hadn’t even gotten up for the bathroom, not once during the game.

Stan was either talking on his phone or checking his phone.

Dwayne had no idea my relation to Reese still. Bless his heart. He was blissfully drunk, sitting between Marie and Trent. He hadn’t witnessed the line of hugs I received when I came in, and I don’t think he let his beer run empty the whole game. If I were asked, I’d have to say that Dwayne had the best time this game.

Trent nudged me with his arm, showing me his phone. “Look.”

He had ESPN pulled up and my heart stopped in my chest. It was a picture of me, from the beginning of the game when I placed my hand against the window. The headline read, “Forster’s New Girlfriend There in Time of Need.” I gulped, grabbing the phone.

“How did they—” But I was scrolling, reading the article.

Stan leaned over. “The word’s out. I wasn’t able to stem all of the articles popping up. If ESPN found out, it’s a loss. They know.”

I didn’t know how to process this.

Handing it back to Trent, I scooted back in my chair and pulled my feet up, folding my arms around my knees. My go-to position when I want to hide.

Trent was eyeing me, pocketing his phone. He shared a look with Stan, then Marie.

“How are you doing, hon?” Marie switched seats with Trent.

I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter. All that, it’s whatever. I’ll deal, process it later. I just want to be there for Reese right now.”

He’d been there for me.

He made me want to live again.

It was my turn now.

“Yeah. That makes sense.”