If Only You (Bergman Brothers, #6)(66)

“Uh, because I never slide tackled my little sister so hard, I knocked her out cold?” Freya snaps, taking the baby from her dad and cuddling him, which seems to be more for her benefit than for the baby, who, I would assume in part, thanks to those noise-canceling headphones, has slept in his grandpa’s arms through most of the second half.

“Okay, you know what?” Viggo says, glaring at Freya. “I did that once, and nearly had a heart attack because I thought I’d killed her.” He turns back to his mother. “And I apologized.”

Elin nods, still watching Ziggy. “I know you did. I’m not saying it to make you feel bad, ?lskling, I’m simply reminding you that your sister is tough. Give her some credit.”

“C’mon, Ziggy Stardust,” Dr. B says quietly. “Get up, honey.”

“Is Aunt Ziggy gonna be okay?” Linnie asks.

Freya’s voice sounds a little thick when she tells her, “Yeah, sweetie. She’ll be okay.”

I stare at Ziggy, locking my hands together so tight between my knees, my rings cut into my skin. I have to ground myself somehow, find some way to keep myself in my seat. Because I am having very irrational thoughts right now, fighting the bone-deep need to hop over the drop from my seat, my finally healed foot be damned, and walk—no, run—out onto that field and have some damn words with Sigrid Marta about getting the hell up and being okay.

I need her to be okay.

The moment that thought unfurls in my mind, Ziggy eases up onto her elbows, then flops onto her back, setting a hand over her eyes. The team’s nearby now as she, to my relief, talks with the trainers, while their captain, who I’ve been told is Gina, the short purple-haired striker, gives the ref a piece of her mind. The ref puts up their hands, backing away. I don’t think they need any convincing as they tug a yellow card from their waist and raise it high in the air at the defender who had it in for Ziggy.

It’s a home game, so the dominant crowd’s response is a wild cheer.

“Damn right,” Gavin grumbles. “Just inside the box, too. She gets to take a penalty.”

“If she can take the penalty,” Ren mutters, rubbing the side of his face anxiously.

Frankie snorts as she sets her hand on Ren’s back and rubs circles. “You know that woman’s temper. She’s pissed right now. Nothing’s going to come between her and a penalty shot.”

“Gina might,” Oliver says, pointing his chin toward the team’s captain. “She’s not going to want Ziggy to take it after she got her bell rung like that.”

“Who says she got her bell rung?” Viggo asks sharply.

“Our eyeballs?” Aiden says from behind me. “Did you see how hard her head hit the pitch?”

Slowly, Ziggy rolls onto all fours, then stands, a little less steadily than I’d like, and submits to her trainers’ inspection. Once she seems to have reassured them that she’s safe to continue playing, given they’re now jogging off the field, she turns and smiles at the ref, then takes a deep breath, resting her hands on her hips as she answers them next. Her captain comes by and takes Ziggy aside as the ref walks toward Chicago’s goalie in preparation for the penalty kick.

I watch Ziggy talk with her captain, frustration tightening her face. She hesitates for a moment, biting her lip, then steps closer to Gina, and points to the center of her own chest. I watch the words on her mouth: I’m taking the damn penalty.

I grin, bursting with pride. “That’s it, Ziggy,” I say quietly.

She turns away from Gina, who looks about to say something, surprise widening her eyes as Ziggy strolls off without once looking back, headed toward the line on the field where it seems she’ll take the penalty.

The stadium quiets to a hush. Ziggy picks up the ball, spins it three times, then sets it right on the line. Then she steps back lazily, slowly, like she’s got no cares and all the time in the world. She glances up, stares right into the goalie’s eyes, and smiles.

Then, after a gentle jog right up to the ball, she strikes it so damn hard, on a thundering crack, and nails the ball into the back left corner.

Every single person I’m surrounded by flies out of their seats, screaming their heads off. Somehow Linnie ends up piggyback-style on my shoulders, clinging to me, then scaling me like a monkey into my arms as she screams her head off, too.

“Plug your ears, Linnie.” She claps her hands over her ears and smiles, wide and excited. I set my thumb and middle finger in my mouth and let out a loud, piercing whistle that makes Linnie shriek with delight.

“Do it again, Trouble!” she screams. “Do it again!”

I let out another whistle that makes Linnie explode in laughter, bouncing against my side as I hold her tight. “Again, again!” she yells.

That’s when Ziggy pulls back from the pile of her teammates who’ve swarmed her, beaming with pride. Her gaze snaps straight to us, dancing across her family, until it settles on me.

As our gazes hold, Ziggy’s smile shifts to something soft and knowing. Something delicate, dangerously tender blooms in my chest as I look at her, as I give her a smile of my own, soft and knowing, too.

A smile only for her.





21





ZIGGY





Playlist: “You Go Down Smooth,” Lake Street Dive