Sheila laughed. He had a great sense of humor.
The last finalist ran off the stage. He’d done a five-minute routine that had the fans cheering loudly. An intern ushered him behind the stage. They needed to kill about fifteen minutes while the votes were cast and tallied and the winner dressed in his or her new uniform. Harper had asked her to leave this part of the program open. She had something special planned.
This was the first time Sheila had seen Harper in over two weeks—since she’d almost passed out at the open tryouts.
“Thank you, Redrocks fans!” Harper lifted one arm and waved. “We’re making history right now as you cast your votes.”
The crowd cheered.
“This is a day that you will never forget.” She paused, laying her hand over her heart. “I will never forget. You may have been looking at the stage, but I’ve been watching you, and you’re amazing. You bring your families. You cheer for your team. And you strengthen my desire to take the Redrocks into the next season and beyond. We love you!”
She got a loud cheer in response.
Patting the air, she encouraged the crowd to settle down. “I have one person I’d like to extend a special thanks to.”
Sheila clasped her hands together. “Oh no.” As proud as she was to have put this all in motion, she did not want to go on that stage. She was the one who ran things behind the scenes for a reason.
“Are you okay?” asked Greg. “You’re pale.”
“I’m fine,” she rasped.
“But I’m not going to introduce her. I’m going to leave that up to someone you all know and love—our heavy hitter, Brock Mattock.”
Brock walked onstage, wearing a blue polo shirt the exact shade of his Southern California sky-blue eyes. Sheila grabbed on to Greg’s arm for support.
Brock said some words welcoming the crowd to the stadium and explaining what they were here to do that didn’t quite sink in. Sheila was too busy drinking him in. He was so handsome that it overwhelmed her eyes to the point that seeing was the only sense working. She couldn’t hear. Her body was numb.
He turned her way and winked, and she was suddenly zeroed in on him, on the way his lips formed her name and his hand reached for her. Her body moved up the stairs as if she were ascending the clouds. When she got to the top, his fingers brushed her cheek.
“Brock, I’m so sorry for the things I said.”
He nodded, walking backward and dragging her to the middle of the stage. “Me too.”
With the mic back to his lips, he said, “Ladies and gentlemen, I have a confession to make.”
He turned from her to face the stands. Sheila did the same, and her face immediately burned hotter than the blacktop in July. There were so many people, and they were all looking at her! She didn’t dare check the Jumbotron for fear her face was plastered up there as well. A trickle of sweat ran down her back, and she gripped Brock’s hand, afraid she’d pass out right there if she didn’t have something real to hold on to.
“I used to think everyone had an agenda. I know. I know. I was cynical.” He gave a self-depreciating chuckle. “But then I met Sheila. You don’t know it, but she’s responsible for all of this.” He lifted his free hand with the mic and waved it around. People cheered. “It’s because of her that Rev the Eagle even exists. And it’s because of her that we players get to talk to your children about bullying and how they can go after their dreams.”
“My kid rocks!” screamed a mom from the lower bowl.
Brock grinned, and Sheila laughed, covering her mouth.
“As lucky as the Redrocks are to have Sheila, I gotta say I’m the luckiest of us all.” He faced Sheila, his sun-kissed hair falling over his forehead and his gorgeous blue eyes so full it took her breath away. “I’m lucky, because I’m the guy who fell in love with her.”
Sheila gasped. “Brock?”
“I have always admired her from afar. She works harder than anyone I know, and her love for the Redrocks runs deep. I’m just hoping—” He adjusted his hold on her hand, running his thumb over her knuckles. “—that there’s a chance you feel the same way.”
The whole stadium held their breath. It didn’t get this quiet when there were this many people in the seats unless the National Anthem was being sung. Ever. She looked into Brock’s eyes and found the truth of his words. She felt them all the way through her soul, and everyone else disappeared. The fans. Her parents. Kelly. No one else mattered but Brock and this moment.
She nodded, her throat too tight to share what was overflowing in her heart.
The stadium erupted with clapping, stomping, screaming, and general chaos. People threw their popcorn in the air like confetti. All of it didn’t compare to the celebration happening inside of Sheila. Her heart jumped and spun in circles, too joyful to remain sedately beating away. Her eyes brimmed with happy tears, blurring her vision.
Brock wrapped her up in his arms, the ones that were strong enough to support her on her worst days and tender enough to cradle her heart. She lifted onto her tiptoes and kissed him—right there in front of the world. She didn’t care if it was unprofessional; it was right. Oh so right. His lips were warm and welcoming, full of a new start. She pressed herself against him, not wanting to ever let go.
“All right, you two, save some for the locker room.” Harper shooed them off the stage, a grin as big as right field on her face. She followed behind, letting Juan introduce a video review of the past two tryouts that had brought them to this point.
