We crash together in a victory kiss. Her hands cup my cheeks to pull me closer, and as always, it’s a little easier to breathe when I have her here in my arms.
Wright’s is already packed when we get there. It’s a lot. Sensory overload. The lights, the music thumping beneath the roar of conversation and laughter. But I take a deep breath, grab Luna’s hand and shut my eyes for a moment. It’s almost as if I can feel her energy flowing through me, and I know I can handle this.
There’s a hand-painted sign above the bar that reads “CHAMPS” in sparkly gold letters, and someone’s taped a grainy printed picture of Luna’s game-winning goal to the jukebox. They acted fast.
It’s loud and messy. Two things I never thought I’d like. But it’s familiar, and it feels like home. I’m going to miss this place when we graduate.
Maisie is holding court near the pool table, recounting the third-period play-by-play with lots of enthusiastic arm gestures. Beth is flirting with the bartender. He’s so engrossed in what she has to say, the other bartender is shooting him dirty looks as the line grows. JJ and Hail are in a heated debate over which team has the best retro jerseys of all time. And somehow Cece has ended up in a conga line with three players from the women’s third line and a guy in a ghost onesie. That one is a total mystery.
Luna leans into me as we slip through the crowd, her hand warm in mine.
“You good?” she asks over the noise.
I nod. “More than.”
It’s not a performance this time. Not a mask. I actually mean it. But I also know that when it’s too much. When I need to leave, she’ll understand. Because she understands me, and she accepts me. I’m finally learning what a genuine partnership is about. And this is it.
We find a quieter corner near the back. Someone hands us drinks. Someone else tries to get us to join karaoke. Luna promises maybe later with a wink and then turns to me, eyes soft.
“You know what this feels like?” she asks.
“Victory?”
“Well, yeah.” She grins. “But also… full circle.”
And she’s right.
The same people who were trying to tear her down. Judging us as fake and trolling her social media are here celebrating the win. Because she turned the narrative around. She didn’t quit, and neither did I. We did this together.
Maisie hops up on a table and raises her drink. “To women in sports!” she yells. “And men who finally get their heads out of their asses!”
A smattering of cheers rings out. Luna laughs so hard she nearly spits her drink out. I hold my hands out and duck my head in a bow.
She leans in. “You’re lucky you’re hot.”
I kiss her cheek. “You’re lucky I’m reformed.”
She gives me a look. “Are you?”
I shrug. “Work in progress.”
After more toasts and a slow song that pulls her into my arms in the middle of the bar, we step outside for air. The night is clear and quiet. The buzz of celebration hums behind us, muffled by the door.
She wraps her arms around my waist, and I lean down to kiss her hair.
“You still sure?” I ask. There are so many layers to the question. She’s got the job offer, and I’ve got my draft plans. It’s not going to be easy. What happens if I get drafted to the other side of the country?
She doesn’t hesitate. “Always.”
And this time, I believe her.
Because for the first time in my life, I’m sure of me, too.
Chapter 40
Chapter 40
Epilogue Beau 1 Yr Later
