We need this win. Without it, we lose any shot at competing for the Next Gen Cup. And because of Lucca, chanting, and pressure, my head is off on the sidelines with soft lips and sweet fruity breath.
I won’t lie and tell you I didn’t enjoy that kiss. But my head. My head is with Fran and that extra-friendly goodbye. It’s not on the field or where it should be.
“Callum’s right. Stupid move, man,” Roman Graves grunts before storming past us.
“See?” I say, throwing out a hand toward Roman.
“Graves?” Lucca chortles. “You’re siding with the Graveyard?”
He’s got a point. Roman’s a bit intense and a grouch—about everything. On the field, he puts people in the ground. It’s why we love him—but agreeing with him on anything other than intimidating the opposing team isn’t normal.
Lucca doesn’t wait for me to answer. Why would he? He’s got all the answers. “I was thinking what we’re all thinking,” he says. “That your lucky charm loosens up the tightly wound springs making up your insides. That in order for us to win this game, those springs need to unwind.”
I bark out a humorless laugh. “Do you have any idea where my head is right now?”
Lucca grins. “Oh, I could guess.”
“And you’re willing to risk this game on that ridiculous theory? A superstition. You didn’t think today might be a good day to play it safe?”
Lucca’s overconfidence makes me want to slug him. The way he believes himself a gift to the sport, as well as a gift to women everywhere. Even now, when we’re about to head out to the field, he doesn’t waver for a second. He doesn’t think about what he’s done.
“Playing it safe is the only risk I see.”
One hundred andfive minutes later marks one of the best games of my entire career. And I’ve been playing this game my whole life.
I played on an academy that got me into the majors at eighteen. Four years ago, I stress-fractured my foot. That’s when I came to the minors. I’ve been with the Red Tails since they first got started three years ago.
Lucca slaps me on the back before jogging toward theplayer tunnel. He jogs a few yards, then stops in front of Fran. That’s when I start jogging. I don’t need him talking to her again. We do not need a repeat of the pregame events. But when I get there, he isn’t talking to Fran, he’s with the guy three seats away from Fran, signing his arm with a ballpoint pen.
“Callum Whitaker!” the man says. “Game-winning goal!” Then he holds his signed arm out toward me, the pen in his hand.
“Ah. Sure.” I step onto the cement stair next to Lucca and scrawl my name on the man’s arm. It’s half the size of Lucca’s and will wash off in one, at most two, washes. But it’s done.
“See you, Franny!” Lucca calls. “Nice job tonight. You made it happen.” He points two finger guns her way. Then Lucca slaps me on the back before hopping from the step and racing off into the tunnel.
I turn to Fran, who indeed has a date sitting next to her. He’s blond, bearded, and staring at me.
Fran presses her lips together as if she’s smoothing out her lip gloss. My eyes are on the girl, on those lips that I have once again kissed. I’m still not sure how that happened. Then a hand is thrust in my face.
“Paul Fender, with Silver State Rides. If you’re ever in need of a car?—”
“I’m set. Thanks,” I say. My jaw clenches, and sweat trickles down my back from running nine miles in the last two hours. “How did the cushion work out?”
“Good. It helped. Thanks again.” Fran rubs her lips togetheragain—is she doing that on purpose? I think she’s nervous, and I’m not sure why. Possibly because she kissed me, and now she’s here with…him.
I glance at the man beside her for only a second.
And then, she’s talking once more. “Great game,” she says. “I’ve only ever watched Little League—this was a step up.”
My chest rumbles with silent laughter, but Paul squawks out a hoot. “That’s funny,” he tells her.
She glances at him, then back at me. “That goal at the end. That was amazing, Cal. You’re—” She shakes her head.
“Did Fran tell you how we met?” Paul asks, his mouth twitching in a grin as if it’s a funny story.
It wasn’t funny. At least, I didn’t think so.
“She did, actually. Were you hurt in the fall too?”
