“How are you not nervous?” she hiss-shouted over the noise. “I think I’m gonna throw up.”
“Trust me.” I leaned close, my mouth almost touching her ear. “I’m nervous.”
Her expression was doubtful. The music in the stadium blared again as the media break came to an end. The stadium swelled to a roar so loud there couldn’t be any more talking between us. I wouldn’t have been able to hear my own voice in the noise. My whole chest vibrated from the intensity of it.
Quinn bounced on the balls of her feet as the offense took the field. I stood tense beside her, barely able to take a proper breath as the Walleye defense met the Cardinals near the line of scrimmage.
This was it.
The crowd quieted, but barely, as the quarterback clapped his hands. The ball was snapped and the world ran in slow motion. The ball was handed to the running back, who headed straight into the clashing bodies up the middle of the field. My heart constricted.
He wasn’t going to make it.
As if the player with the ball had heard my thoughts, he bounced off the pile that had collapsed completely. A Walleye linebacker grabbed for him, but he was too fast, spinning and sprinting along the outside.
I yelled along with the entire stadium as the running back became a blur, passing the line to gain and racing along the sideline.
“GO! GO! GO!” Quinn screamed as she grabbed for my hand and squeezed so hard my bones cracked.
I didn’t care, though. I was screaming along with her, stunned at the unexpected way the play was unfolding.
He was at the ten-yard line when a safety caught up with him, making contact and almost bringing him down.
Almost.
The running back kept his legs churning, eating up the final yardage and stretching out his entire body until the football crossed the goal line. Touchdown.
The entire stadium erupted into a cacophony of cheering and pandemonium.
Quinn turned to me, disbelief and pure elation on her face. I couldn’t hear a word she said before she launched herself into my arms. Her legs wrapped around my hips, her face burrowing into the side of my neck as she squeezed me.
“We did it! We won!” I could make out her words now that she was so close to my ear.
Bodies of the sea of people around us knocked into me, the stands coming to life as others celebrated too. I held her to me, keeping my legs steady, my own smile a mile wide as the OCU band played the fight song.
Victory.
It felt so good after a three-year drought.
I inhaled. Quinn’s scent surrounded me, her hair tickling my cheek. She was still clinging to me, and I realized that she was shaking.
The stadium suddenly faded away, and my full attention went to her. She wasn’t making any noise, but I rubbed a soothing hand up and down her back.
I shifted my mouth closer to her ear. “You okay?”
She stiffened, her arms and legs wrapped tighter around me. After a pause, she nodded, face pressed against my shoulder.
The last few seconds of the game ticked away without issue, but the two of us didn’t move. Even as the crowd started to thin,some people surging onto the field while others exited normally, we didn’t move.
I wasn’t sure how long we stood there before her grip around my neck loosened. She slowly unwrapped her legs, and I set her back on her feet, her body sliding down mine. She didn’t step away, though.
Tears glistened on her cheeks when she looked up at me. A smile trembled on her lips.
“Sorry,” she rasped.
The band was still playing the fight song on loop, and I leaned down to hear her better. “You don’t have to apologize.”
Her cheeks were already red and chapped from the cold, but the color deepened. “I was just…excited. I didn’t mean to—to violate you like that.”
