Chapter 26

26

LUCA

I’ve experienced a lot of ups and downs in my life. Hard-won wins like yesterday’s. Gut-wrenching losses—the kind where you lose by a point or a penalty and the kind where you get absolutely crushed.

The depth and breadth of those emotions feel like child’s play compared to waking up to Tori next to me this morning. Not just next to me but in my arms.

A little voice in my head whispers, “You’ll lose her too.”

I counter it by pressing lips softly to Tori’s temple. It’s possible that things with Tori don’t work out, but if they don’t, I’ll do everything to make sure it’s not my fault. If there’s any risk worth taking, it’s Tori.

I stay in bed for what feels like hours. I’m awake, but my eyes are closed as I relive the last two days of life, from the youth camp and the immigration visit and the game to last night.

Tori shifts in my arms, and I watch her as she slowly begins to wake, love for her consuming me.

I worried I’d regret telling her how I felt, but I know now that’s impossible. She deserves to know how much I adore her. She deserves everything. And I want so badly to be the one to give it to her.

Her eyes finally settle on me, and I wait until the realization of where she is hits her.

She smiles sleepily up at me and nestles closer, pressing her cheek against my bare chest.

“Did you sleep at all?” she asks.

I rest my chin on her head, reveling in the feeling of knowing she wants to be close just like I do, like a confirmation of everything we said last night and all the ways we expressed it afterward. “Yeah.”

“Even without your magic pillow?”

I smile into her hair and press a kiss to it. “ You’re my new magic pillow.”

She wraps her arm around me and pulls me closer, lifting her chin so her lips rest on my neck. “Does that mean you’ll be needing me every night?”

“And at naptimes.”

“Hmm. This sounds like the full-time job I’ve been looking for.” She kisses my neck, sending a rush of electricity through me. “Does it come with benefits?”

“I can think of a few…” I pull back to tip my head down, but she stops me.

“Gum first.”

I chuckle and turn over to grab a stick from the drawer of my bedside table.

“I talked to Preston yesterday,” she says.

“What’d he say?” I rip the stick of gum in half and pop some in her mouth, then mine.

She chews but shakes her head. “That the visit we got isn’t a good sign, which we kind of knew. But the fact that it didn’t go well means we should expect an interview.”

“Didn’t we already do that?”

“Apparently not.” She uses her hands to push herself up in bed so that she’s almost sitting, back against the headboard. “He called this one a ‘Stokes interview.’ He said they’ll question us separately, and if our stories don’t match…”

My eyes search her face. She doesn’t have to finish. I know the stakes here. At this moment, they feel higher than ever.

“I basically hung up on him so I wouldn’t lose it on the phone,” she says.

I frown and sit up too. “Why didn’t you call me?”

She lifts a shoulder. “I wanted you to be able to enjoy the game without that stress hanging over you, without the weight of knowing everything you’ve worked for is in jeopardy.” She scoots closer to me, exuding sudden uncertainty. “Maybe that was wrong of me, though. Maybe that’s why I should’ve told you—so you could appreciate the game knowing it might be one of your last?”

I search her face, wondering if she really thinks that’s the main thing worrying me right now. Even after last night.

“Tori,” I say, “you’re more important than anything to me. I always want you to call me when you need to talk. Okay?”

She smiles and presses her lips to mine.

There’s no way to describe how good this feels—kissing her whenever the impulse comes. My new problem will be trying to do anything but kiss her.

“Another thing,” she says as she pulls back. “I told my family.”

My brows go up. Is that what she meant when she said she called Siena? I probably should’ve thought about that. Why would Siena tell her to confess her real feelings if Siena didn’t know the real reason behind our marriage?

“I really needed to talk to somebody,” Tori hurries to say, “and I hate lying to them.”

“Tori.” I smile slightly and brush some of her bedhead hair out of her face. “I thought you should tell them from the beginning. What’d they say?”

Tori shifts, then lies down across my lap so her head rests on my thighs. “Siena recommended we abscond to Belize together.”

I frown consideringly. “Belize sounds nice. Is that our plan, then?”

Tori smiles up at me, and I know it more surely than ever right then: I can never lose that smile or those teasing eyes or that wild hair.

“Anything else?” I’m absurdly anxious to hear what her family thinks of me now that they know we’ve been lying to them.

Tori’s eyes soften as she looks up at me. “They love you, Luca. You’re one of us. For real. Whether you like it or not.”

I can’t speak. My throat is thick, and my heart…it’s overwhelmed with gratitude for Tori and her family. All of this is more than I could’ve ever dreamed.

Tori lifts her hand to my cheek and lets her fingers graze the hair. Then she raises herself up and presses her lips to mine, and all of our cares fall away again.

“That’s insane,” Zach says, his voice pumping through my phone’s speaker as I drive to the stadium.

Today is a recovery day for the team, which means stretching, rehab, and light workouts.

“Why would they show up like that out of nowhere?” he asks.

“I don’t know. I thought we did pretty well in our interview.”

“You think maybe Bennett made a call or something?”

My brows pull together. “Do you think that?”

“I don’t know. You getting nailed for fraud definitely benefits him, and you said he’s been bringing up your marriage a lot, right? Insinuating stuff?”

“Yeah…” The thought makes me sick, but Zach might have a point. Bennett has wanted the starting spot from the beginning. He felt like it was his, and I stole it from him, and if he believes I’ve done it illegally, I could see him feeling justified in calling immigration. “Whether it was him or not, what’s done is done.”

Zach swears softly. “What do we do? You’ve been doing so well. The Admirals need you.”

“They’d be fine without me. This is bigger than just the League, though, Zach. This is my entire future. It’s my marriage.” This morning, Tori made the point that, if we get charged with immigration fraud, it’ll not only get me deported to Canada, it’ll prevent her from coming there to be with me.

Belize might legitimately be our best option.

“Right,” Zach says. “But there’s still a chance, right? You can pass this interview just like you passed the last one, and then everything will be fine.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

I’m not at all certain of that, though. They’ll be asking harder questions this time, and I won’t have Tori to save me when I stumble. If they ask anything we haven’t gone over together, we’re toast.

I pull into my parking space at the stadium and undo my seatbelt. “I gotta go, Zach. We’ll talk later.”

When I get into the facility, a bunch of the guys are working the machines. As people take note of me, there’s a wave of cheers, and a couple of the guys imitate my touchdown dance. Tori’s touchdown dance.

I spot Bennett in the far corner of the room where the free weights are. Could he really be the reason we got the unannounced visit?

I make my way to him. I have no idea if Zach’s suspicions are correct, but I don’t want to have the question hanging over me and affecting the dynamics among the wideouts. It might not change anything about the future, but I need to know.

“Can I talk to you?”

He meets my gaze through the mirror, his own curious but wary, then his eyes shift behind me.

I glance over my shoulder and find a few of the other guys watching us. “In private,” I clarify.

Bennett’s brow lifts, but he sets down the dumbbells and leads the way out of the weight room. “If you’re trying to ask me out, Callahan, I don’t date married men.”

The hallway is empty, and he turns to face me with his usual cocky smile. But there’s a wary light in his eyes. Is it because he knows why I’m here? Does he want this starting position so badly that he’d actually put my entire future and Tori’s in jeopardy?

I search his face, trying to keep control of myself. “Did you report me?”

His expression is impassive. “What?”

“You’ve been making comments about my marriage since we met, Bennett. If you called immigration, the least you can do is be honest about it.”

His brows snap together. “Or else what? You gonna put me in the hospital like you did that one guy?”

My gaze intensifies. Is this his way of admitting it was him who called immigration?

“Yeah,” he says, “I told you I read up on you, Callahan. You’ve got a criminal record for messing up some handyman. You trying to add to it by threatening me? Because I promise you, you’ll come out of that a lot worse than the last time.”

“So, you did sic immigration on my wife and me?”

“The wife you married for a green card?”

The impulse to shove him up against the wall burns in my veins, but I’m not going to give in to his provocation. It’s what he wants.

On the other hand, my life is already going down the drain. In all probability, I’ll be deported. Why not make good on the criminal record that got me here in the first place?

My fists ball up, and I force myself to take a step back before I make a decision I’ll regret. “Looks like you’ll get what you wanted. Hope you enjoy a starting position you didn’t earn, and I hope screwing up my wife’s life was worth it to you.” I turn away, my entire body pulsing with anger.

Just before I turn the corner, Bennett talks. “I didn’t do it.”

I stop, but I don’t look back.

“Yeah,” he says, “I’ve suspected you got married for a green card for a while now. But I didn’t call immigration on you.”

I turn around and look at him.

His gaze is clear as he meets mine. “Of course I want a starting spot, and yeah, I’m mad you got it, but I don’t want to get it back like that. The comments I’ve made about you and your wife?” He shrugs. “I’ve just been trying to get in your head. The mental game is as important as the physical one. We both know that.”

It’s quiet as we stare at each other. Bennett is a first-class punk, but I believe him.

I nod.

“Are you in trouble with immigration?” he asks.

I nod again.

“How much trouble?”

“I don’t know yet.”

He frowns. “You know, if you’re trying to figure out who reported you, I might have an idea who it was.”

I stare at him fixedly. “What do you mean?”

He lifts his shoulders. “A couple weeks ago, my dad and I went out to eat with one of the lawyers he works with. I forget his name, but he was asking me a lot of questions about you and your wife.” He gives a little chuckle. “I don’t think his fiancée liked it very much. I don’t blame her. He was kind of obsessive, and I got the sense he had some history with your wife. Anyway, maybe you saw him. He came to the last game with his fiancée and his doctor buddy.”

My heart beats more quickly. “Was his name Ryan?”

Bennett nods, narrowing his eyes. “Yeah, that was it. Anyway”—he shrugs a shoulder—“if anyone called, my money’s on him.”

I take a deep breath. I didn’t let myself even acknowledge Ryan at the game, but now I’m wishing I’d let him have it.

“For what it’s worth,” Bennett says, “this team is better with you on it.”

I shove away the thoughts of Ryan and look at Bennett. How much did it cost him to say that? I know a thing or two about saying tough words.

“Same to you,” I say.

“I hope it works out.” The corner of his mouth tips up, and that cocky look re-enters his eyes. “But if it does, know this: I’m coming for that starting spot.”

I can’t help but chuckle. “I hope I get the chance to fight you for it.”

Practice the next day is different. The energy has shifted as we run drills, and it’s not just in my head.

“Whatever you guys are doing today,” Coach Tate says to all seven of us afterward, “keep it up.”

Bennett and I meet eyes, but his face is impassive. He’s competitive as ever, but there’s a level of understanding between us now that allows for better collaboration. I just wish I was going to be around long enough to see it through.

The next day is our day off, and I intend to spend every second of it with Tori. The feeling at the house is a strange mixture of complete elation and the weight of an unknown future.

We’re on our way to get groceries when I tell her what Bennett said about Ryan.

Her mouth is agape, and she makes a sound of disgust. “I guarantee it was him. It makes sense, honestly. He was asking about things at your game.” She stares through the windshield and shakes her head. “And he probably convinced himself he was doing the noble thing. He always does. I don’t know why he cares so much, though. Just leave us alone.”

But I know why.

A man who’s happy with his life doesn’t go around screwing up other people’s.

“Grr,” Tori says, pulling out her phone. “I just wanna…give him a piece of my mind.”

“I kind of already did.”

She gives me a funny look. “What do you mean?”

I pull into a parking space at the grocery store. “Nothing crazy. I just sent him a little text. Bennett got his number for me.”

Her eyes are bright with intrigued curiosity. “What did you say? Can I see?”

I shrug, put the car in park, and grab my phone from the center console. I navigate to the thread and hand it to her.

Hey Ryan. I didn’t get the chance to meet you after the game, but I thought I’d introduce myself. I’m Tori’s husband, Luca. Tori mentioned you’re getting married—congratulations on that. I suppose I owe you some thanks too. You letting Tori slip through your fingers was the best thing that ever happened to me. I want you to know that no matter what you do or what you’ve already done, I’ll never—ever—let her slip through mine.

Tori’s gaze lifts to mine, and there’s a little sheen in her eyes. She lets the phone fall on her lap, then pulls me toward her and kisses me softly and slowly.

When our lips part, she rests her forehead on mine.

“I mean it, you know,” I say. “You’re mine. As long as you’ll let me keep you.”

“You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried,” she says, kissing me again.

“I did get the right number, didn’t I?” I ask. “He never texted back, so?—”

“You did.” She picks up the phone and hands it to me. “He’s just an enormous pansy. He’s probably deleted the text and is pretending it never happened.”

I chuckle. “Are you gonna text him?”

“No way. You did a much better job than I could’ve. Let’s just forget all about Ryan and go get groceries.”

That’s a plan I can get totally on board with.

We’ve agreed that, for now, we want to focus on enjoying ourselves and our marriage, which has meant two walks a day on the beach, cooking together—or ordering in when the meal goes badly—and moving everything of Tori’s from her bedroom into ours. The pregnancy pillows have taken up residence on the bed in her abandoned room.

We’re on the pasta aisle when her phone dings.

Our eyes meet, and there’s a tense moment as she takes it out and looks at the notification. Both of us are just waiting for the other shoe to drop on this immigration business.

She lets out a breath. “It’s fine. Just an email from Summit.” Her eyes scan it quickly. “They want to know if I can come in today to help out with tutoring.” She looks up at me, her eyes alight.

I mask my disappointment. I’ve always had a massive appetite, but the one I have for time with Tori is on a whole different level. But I know how much she loved the kids, and I also know how loved she was by them. She’s meant to work with youth. “That’s great! Are you gonna go?”

She looks at me, a little furrow in her brow. “I want to, but…on your day off? Maybe I can go tomorrow.” She looks down at her phone and presses the reply button.

“Wait.”

Her gaze sweeps back to mine, her fingers paused on the keyboard.

“Would they want two volunteers?”

Her mouth pulls into a smile. “Really? You’d come? On your day off?”

This woman clearly doesn’t realize that I would wade through the sewer if it was the only way to spend more time with her.

“I mean, I don’t want to mess things up,” I say. “This is your thing…”

Her fingers tap away as she completely ignores me. Once she’s done, she puts her phone away and smiles. “Hope you really meant it because now you have no choice. Now, let’s finish our shopping and go.” She links her arm through mine and pushes the cart with her free hand. “What kind of treats do you think the kids would like? I’m not above sugary bribes to get them to like me.”

We settle on Nerds Gummy Clusters and Twix, then check out and get on our way, dropping by home to put the perishable items in the fridge.

Tori rolls down the windows and gets the music blasting on the way to the youth center, and it’s all I can do to keep my eyes on the road while she belts the songs at the top of her lungs and dances as much as her seatbelt will allow. Tori is everything I never knew I needed.

I’ve got to find a way to keep her in my life, no matter what.

It’s not until I park and the music stops that Tori picks up her phone.

She looks at me, the carefree energy of the last twenty minutes replaced by something more somber. “Missed call from Preston.”

My stomach tightens.

“Should I call him back?” she asks.

I don’t have time to answer before the screen changes to show another incoming call from him.

Tori grabs my hand and uses the other to answer and put the phone on speaker. “Hey, Preston.”

“Hi, Tori. Are you with Luca by chance?”

“Yeah, he’s right here. What’s up?” The forced nonchalance in her voice while her hand fidgets in mine has me bringing her hand to my lips and kissing it.

She smiles at me.

Preston lets out a breath. “I got notification from the immigration office. They’ve set up a Stokes interview.”

Tori’s eyes shut.

“I know waiting for this kind of a thing is a form of torture,” Preston says, “so I called in and managed to convince them to move it up so you can get it over with and move on with your lives. It’s scheduled for the twelfth of September. That still gives us a good three weeks to prepare. I think a twice-weekly meeting should be enough to get us in a good place. I’ll send a calendar link over so we can get those meetings set up, okay?”

“Sounds good,” I say, a lump in my throat.

“Talk soon,” he says before hanging up.

It’s dead quiet in the car, and Tori’s hand doesn’t stir in mine as she stares ahead blankly. It’s such a foreign expression on her usually energetic and expressive face.

“Hey,” I say.

Her head turns toward me.

“We’re gonna get through this,” I say.

She nods, but I can see the doubt in her eyes.

“You’re stuck with me,” I say with a little smile. “No matter what immigration says or does.”

She lets out a shallow, breathy chuckle, and I lean in to kiss her. It’s slow and tender, and little by little, I feel her relax.

“Promise?” she asks as we finally pull apart.

“Promise.”