TWO?? UPDATES?? IN?? TWO?? DAYS??

****************

Unfortunately, I couldn't pretend like Danny's surgery wasn't necessary forever. After my mom's shift and our visit at the hospital, it was time to unload the information on my mother. And she didn't take it well.

"I don't know what we're going to do," She cries in exasperation, and I wring my hands together nervously.

I had sent Vincent upstairs and told him that I had to speak privately with my mom. I didn't beat around the bush, but rather came out and told her what the doctor told me. The waves of emotions on her face were hard to read as they cycled through her process of comprehending the situation, but I could clearly see the distress in her eyes.

"We're going to figure it out," I tell her, reaching forward to grab her hands in mine. "We're in this together."

I purposely omit Vincent's offer about his father preforming a pro bono surgery. I didn't want to get her-- or my, for that matter-- hopes up. After all, it was a long shot. Doctors rarely do pro bono surgeries, and I'm sure Vincent's father cycles through patients in similar situations as ours almost every day.

"I think I can help," A new voice offers tentatively.

I look up, past my mother's shoulders, to see Vincent standing there nervously. He was shifting his weight between his feet like he couldn't stand still, and looking at me as if I may attack him for intervening during a personal moment. He was smart, too, because I was thinking about it.

My mom wipes her eyes immediately before turning to look at the boy who interrupted the moment and waits for him to speak again. "I spoke to my father this morning about doing a pro bono surgery for Danny. He said he just has to fill out paperwork with the hospital, but he would be more than happy to do it."

I'm sure that the same relief coursing through me was mirrored in my mother by the change of her expression. I felt myself let out a breath that I didn't know I had been holding in and looking at Vincent with tears in my eyes. While I forced myself to hold mine back, my mom started crying almost immediately upon hearing his offer.

"Vincent," She stood up and walked over to him to immediately wrap him into a hug. "You have no idea how much that means to this family."

I watched their interaction from my seat. Although I was relieved, my heart was racing, as if the news was too good to be true. I didn't understand why Vincent felt the need to advocate for my family to his father, or how he managed to prompt his dad into seeing the importance of our situation. I didn't know he cared that much.

My mom finally separates from Vincent and wipes her eyes with a small laugh. "I'm sorry, I'm such a mess."

Vincent shakes his head to tell her not to apologize, but looks at me when he says, "I just want to help."

The moment felt charged with intimacy, like when he first told me that he wanted to help me, all those weeks ago. I felt shivers race down my spine and had to gulp down the lump in my throat and work harder to push the tears from the brim of my eyes. He had no idea how much he was helping.

"I don't know how we're going to repay you," My mom starts mumbling on. "Dinner! That's a start. I'm going to go cook."

"You really don't have to--" Vincent starts protesting, but she waves his words away.

"Nonsense," She gives him a teary smile and one last hug. "It's the least I could do."

When a rogue tear slips out of my eye, I turn so neither of them can see me and wipe it away. I turn back around to see my mom stalking off toward the kitchen and Vincent taking slow steps toward me.

As always, the air was thick between us. But this time it wasn't with sexual tension. It was full of unspoken intimacy, something that I couldn't quite put my finger on, but felt deeply personal. I knew he felt it, too.

"Vincent..." I murmur as he nears me, utterly at a loss for all the 'thank you's and praises I should be showering him with.

He stops when he's a foot away, and gives me a small smile. "I know," He murmurs back, and then reaches out to grab my hand and draw me into him. "Come here."

I stumble forward until I land in his arms, my hands wrapping around him as tightly as I could manage. He mirrored my actions and covered my body with his, like he was shielding me from harms way by wrapping me up into his arms.

Family meant everything to me. After the loss of my father, I knew that I had to do everything in my power to keep us together. With Danny's cancer, the most I could do was help financially so he could get the best treatment possible.

Vincent's willingness and eagerness to help my family drew something out of me that I couldn't put into words. I felt more connected to him, somehow. Like now that he went to such great lengths to help mine, he now was family.

"Thank you," I mumble into his chest.

He squeezes me tighter and says something that I couldn't quite catch but sounded a whole lot like: "I'd do anything to help."

* * *

"And you think he's better?" Sandra prompts me.

"I think he's ready to start practicing with everyone," I correct her. "He still needs his knee compression brace. But I don't see why he can't practice with the team again."

She reviews my daily reports that she had requested, which outline his progress and the exercises and activities we've been doing to help him heal, and I see her nod. I hold my breath, waiting for some type of criticism, but none comes.

"Good work," Sandra tells me roughly. "I'll have to assess him as well, but I'm sure I'll agree with your decision. It seems like you've been doing everything right."

My jaw drops slightly and I nod dumbly at her, completely awestruck that kind words came out of her mouth.

"You can go now," She finishes flatly, reminding me exactly who I'm talking to.

Despite the return of her crass attitude, I grinned brightly as I walked out of her office and through the stadium. I was walking through the tunnel, toward the well-lit field at the end, when I heard footsteps towering from behind me.

I turn to see Trevor running to catch up with me and see him grin brightly. "Hi Lily!" I stop so he can reach me, and when he does, he gives me a bear hug. "I missed you!"

"It was only a few days," I excuse with a laugh, but hugged him back. "But I missed you too, Trev."

"How was your moms birthday?" He asks, reminding me of the excuse I used for leaving.

I give him a tight smile and say, "It was really nice being home. How was your weekend?"

Trevor looks sheepish for a moment before evading my question and instead asking, "How were things with Vincent? Does your mom love him?"

I feel my cheeks flush lightly when I think back to my days at home with Vincent. Between the kiss, the hospital visits, the car rides, and everything in between, it felt like I was closer to Vincent than ever before.

"She does, actually," I say with a laugh. "How did you know?"

He chuckles. "You wouldn't be able to tell, but Vincent is really good with parents. When he wants to be, at least."

I nod thoughtfully before remembering his odd reaction to my question and turn to him fully to ask again, "What did you do this weekend?"

The sheepish smile returns as he scratches the back of his neck and looks away. "Uh, nothing much. Just hung out."

I furrow my brow at his odd behavior. "That's it?"

Stepping out of the tunnel and onto the field nearly blinds me from the abrupt transition from dark to light, but I still catch the nervous expression coating Trevor's features.

Before I can question him further, I hear another voice call my name out, and turn around to see Andrew chasing us this time. When he reaches us, he grins brightly.

"Lily!" Andrew practically cries, grabbing me in a big hug that lifted my feet off the ground.

I grab his arms for support and laugh, "Hi, Drew!"

With little effort expended, Andrew places me back on the ground and grins. "We all missed you so much, Lily. It's not the same without you here."

I smile fondly at the large man in front of me. "I missed you too, Andrew." As an afterthought, I ask, "Do you know why Trevor is being weird about his weekend?"

And, just like that, Andrews grin drops to be replaced by the same sheepish expression that Trevor has worn.

"Uh," Andrew stutters. "I don't know."

I narrow my eyes at both of them, suspicious by their sketchy behavior. Did it have to do with Jane?

"Well shit," Trevor mutters under his breath.

I follow his gaze, confused by his change in attitude, and see Max approaching us with his away jersey in his hands. Upon seeing Andrew and Trevor, Max slows down, but I can't see his expression with the sun behind him.

The two boys step in front of me and meet him in the middle of the field, and I trail behind curiously. When I get in earshot of the boys, I hear Max explain that he's just returning his jersey.

And then I saw it. The purple and blue bruise outlining his left eye, which was swollen shut, and his fat lip.

As we pass Max, he looks at me briefly before setting his jaw and abruptly looking away. With wide and confused eyes, I push between Andrew and Trevor to get in front of them and stare at them incredulously.

"Did you do that?" I ask the thought that raced through my mind the second I saw Max's split lip.

Their expressions confirmed the answer to my question. "That smug asshole thought he could mess with our girl," Andrew says gruffly. "It had to be done."

Even though I shouldn't be encouraging this behavior, I can't help but grin ear to ear. Max deserved it.

"Wait," Trevor says slowly. "You're not mad?"

"He deserved it," I voice my thoughts with a slight snicker but then give them both a pointed look. "But that doesn't mean you guys can get into fights. If Coach found out, you could both be suspended from the team."

Andrew shakes his head and says, "It would be worth it."

My heart warms at the players in front of me, who cared more about exacting revenge for me than their immediate football careers. These boys were family, too.

During my walk back to my dorm room, I couldn't help but be grateful for these boys in my life. They were like the protective older brothers I didn't know that I needed.

When I near my room, I can hear talking inside, and my hand freezes on the doorknob when I hear Vincent's voice. Against my better judgement, I pause, press my ear against the door, and hold my breath.

"I'm serious," Jane's muffled voice says. "She's my best friend."

"So am I," Vincent asserts. "I don't want to hurt her."

I furrow my brow, sure that I'm missing a large chunk of this conversation, but I decide that I can investigate better from the inside. I turn the knob all the way and act like I wasn't totally just listening to their conversation and watch their expressions turned surprised at my entrance.

I look between Vincent and Jane in confusion, aware of the slight tension in the room when I entered. What the hell were they talking about?

"Lil!" Jane says excitedly as she bounds toward me and wraps me in a hug. "I missed you this morning when you came in. How are you?"

I hug her back, but give Vincent a look over her shoulder. He looks away. "I'm good, just a little tired." When she pulls away, I ask slowly, "What's going on?"

Jane smirks a little but tries to cover it up and looks to Vincent for an explanation instead. "You, uh, forgot your charger in my car."

I look at him blankly and say, "No, I didn't."

"Oh," He replies flatly, his eyes darting from me to Jane. "It must've been mine, then. My mistake. Well, I've got to go. I'll see you guys later."

Just as mysteriously as he appeared, Vincent left, leaving me alone with Jane. I turn to give her a pointed look, expecting an immediate explanation to his weird behavior and their secret conversation, but I just get a smirk.

"What?" Jane asks innocently.

"What was that about?" I ask in exasperation. "Why was he here?"

She turns around and continues folding clothes on her bed as she answers nonchalantly, "I'm not allowed to say, but you'll know soon."

I stare at her back, bothered by how calm she was being and how easily she was withholding this information. "That's it? That's all the explanation I'm going to get?"

"Yup," Jane says easily. "Do you think I look okay?"

She turns around to gauge my reaction, which is a blank and unamused stare, and she pouts.

"I guess not," Jane mutters.

A knock on the door interrupts her pouting and my glaring, and I immediately hope that it's Vincent again, so he can enlighten me on what's been said.

However, I open the door to see Trevor peak his head in with a grin. He had changed since I saw him at the stadium, looking more handsome in a pair of jeans with a white tee shirt.

"Long time no see," Trevor grins at me.

I move aside so he can enter, and watch Jane turn around to look at him with a big smile.

"Hi," She greets him shyly.

His eyes travel up her body until he reaches her eyes. "Hi," Trevor repeats. "You look beautiful."

Is that— a blush?!

"Thank you," Jane grins. "Are you ready?"

He nods, and they start to walk out the door. I grab Jane's hand before she can get out and ask quietly, "Are you going on a date?"

She beams at me and whispers, "Yes, he asked me out this weekend. I'll text you when I'm on my way home."

I can't help but grin at her. This was the most excited I've ever seen Jane get over a date— and maybe one of the few second dates she's ever been on.

"Have fun, you two!" I call after them, and then channel my inner Vincent when I add: "But not too much fun! Wrap it before you tap it!"

Trevor's booming laughter follows them down the hallway until they disappear into the staircase, and I head back into my room with a giant smile on my face.

But then I remember the weird conversation I stumbled in on earlier. I don't want to hurt her. What could they have been talking about?

Almost as if he has a sixth sense, Vincent texts me. I grab my phone from my bed and scan his message immediately.

I stare at the words and feel my heart do a flip in my chest. I wasn't even sure why, considering he could be asking for a plethora of reasons. My mind just couldn't help but jump to the possibility of a date.

Hesitantly, I answer, I stare at the text as it goes from sent to delivered to read in a matter of seconds, and then stare at the bubbles that indicate he's typing.

Then my phone vibrates.

I smile to myself. And without giving it much thought at all, I say,