“Congrats, Huck,” I whisper, low enough for only myself to hear. And the moment that I spend every second of every game waiting for comes when the camera catches him pulling off his helmet. That mess of blond curls flops onto his brows, plastered with sweat, and he grins triumphantly as his teammates surround him in celebration. He looks...ecstatic. Elated. It’s a look I never got to see with him, and I drink it down like the alcoholic I am, needing my fix. His jawline is sharper, and his skin is a deep bronze shade from spending time in the California sun. Not for the first time, I hope he’s
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