“Thank you,” I muttered, giving him another hug. “I promise I’ll buy myself something. When are you getting back?”

“I’m gonna stay through New Year’s. My PawPaw hasn’t been doin’ so well, so I wanna spend some time with him.” He winked. “And this real sweetheart I used to date in high school messaged me a few days ago to see if Big Texas was gonna be in town.”

I snickered. Big Texas. There was no way she was referring to him as a person. “What happened to that girl you were talking to here?”

Zac made a noise. “She was cuckoo.”

“Have fun back home then.”

“I will.” He leaned down and gave me a peck on the cheek. “Go visit Diana if you get lonely, hear me?”

“I’ll be fine.” This wouldn’t be my first Christmas spent without a big group. I knew I would survive. I slapped him on the butt when he turned to head to the door. “Drive careful and tell your mom I said hi.”

Zac grinned at me over his shoulder, and just like that, he was gone and I was home alone.

I shut the garage door with a slight smile on my face, Aiden’s Christmas present in hand, torn between feeling pretty lousy and slightly excited about the little treasure waiting for tomorrow morning.

Going for a ten mile run earlier had exhausted me, but not enough. I’d baked sugar cookies shaped in trees, candy canes, and stars took my mind off of everything for a couple of hours, and then the doorbell had rang and the post office delivery person presented me with four different boxes labeled to me. I’d opened them up like a little kid.

My foster parents, Diana, her parents, and my little brother had all sent me gifts in different levels of wrapping. I’d gotten a pack of water colors, colored pencils, several pairs of new underwear—from the only person who would buy me that—a pretty watch, and pajamas.

Miss u, a card in my little brother’s gift said. He was spending the holidays with one of his teammate’s family in Florida.

I’d sent them all gifts two weeks before, even sending my mom and her husband a gift basket. Luckily, I hadn’t been expecting a present from them, otherwise I would have been sorely disappointed. The gifts served to make me feel loved and lonely, and I wasn’t sure how the hell it was possible to feel two such conflicting emotions.

Aiden had been home since noon, and I could tell he was in a strange mood. He’d been awfully quiet, spending his time working out and also working on a puzzle in the breakfast nook while I’d made cookies, and then he’d headed upstairs saying he was going to take a nap. I stayed downstairs only long enough to make sure Aiden was asleep; then I’d taken off to pick up his present. Luckily, he’d still been asleep when I got home, and I set his gift up in the garage, confident that Aiden wouldn’t be leaving anywhere and spoil his surprise. Inside, I turned on the television to drown out any possible noises that came from the garage, then sat on the floor and used the watercolors my foster parents had sent me.

I kept checking the garage every hour since then. Nearly all the lights in the house were turned off when I made my way through the house with the package in my hand, my back aching from so much time hunched over. At the bottom of the stairs, I listened for Aiden, but there wasn’t a peep. Why would there be? Despite it being Christmas Eve, he’d had to wake up early and report to team headquarters to check in with the trainers because his lower back had been giving him trouble the last couple of weeks.

In the laundry room, I set the carrier down. I’d already put two blankets inside, refilled the water bottle mounted to the door, and put food into the small bowl that attached to the door too. I’d let the little rascal out on the front lawn and waited until it pooped and peed. The cute face peeked out at me through the grate and I stuck my fingers in there to give its nose a rub.

While the garage was well insulated, and I knew it wouldn’t be cold, I hated the idea of leaving him in there. Taking it up to my room was out of the question because I had a feeling it would bark. I left the light on for him and made my way back to the kitchen where I cracked open the container of sugar cookies I made and inhaled two of them.

I turned off all the lights except the set under the kitchen cabinets, filled a glass with water, and headed upstairs. In my room, I grabbed clothes to take a shower, feeling downright off. I stayed under the stream longer than I usually would have and climbed out of the tub, telling myself to quit being such a party pooper.

I had just opened the bathroom door when I heard, “Van?”

“Aiden?” Okay, that was a stupid question. Who else would it be? With my dirty clothes under my arm, I walked down the hall. His door was open. Usually when he went to sleep, he closed it, and I guess I hadn’t glanced over when I’d come upstairs.

Sitting with his back propped up against the headboard, a bedside lamp illuminated part of the room. Half of his body was under the covers and the other half was unfortunately covered in a T-shirt by one of his endorsers. Aiden gave me a speculative look.

“Are you okay?” I asked, resting my shoulder against the doorframe.

“Yes,” he answered in such an earnest, easy way that I didn’t know what to do with myself.

Huh. “What are you doing?” The television wasn’t on and a book was set on his nightstand.

“I was thinking about the game last week, and what I could have done differently.”

Of all the things in the world, why did that just happen to reach straight into my ribs and grab my heart? “Of course you were.”