She brushes her palm along my shoulder, looking at me with pure adoration, causing my heart to melt in my chest.
“How’s the arm?”
“Good. I’ll play. I have to.”
She nods, placing a gentle kiss on my lips. “Go get your win. I’m going to cheer for you.”
“And afterward?”
She tilts her head, raising a playful brow. “Hmm, afterward? Are we getting greedy?”
I grin. “Always when it comes to you.”
She pulls my face in for another kiss, and I forget about everything else. No wonder she has to push me away. “See you tonight.”
“One more game,” I say, our eyes locking.
One more game, and then I will officially present her as my girlfriend. But not for long. Maximum a few days before she’s my fiancée.
That thought accompanies me to my car, where I catch my smile in the rearview mirror.
The entire drive to the stadium, my phone rings, from my parents to Levi, all wishing me good luck and telling me we’ll see each other afterward.
My family is here for me, and that thought strengthens my resolve even more.
When I am in the locker room, the energy suffuses the air.
Sitting next to Roman, I go through my usual ritual. I wouldn’t call myself superstitious, but the routine eases me, anchoring me.
Coach steps inside. “You have this. You want this. So go out there and claim that win as yours.”
We all nod, determined to rule the field.
“How’s the arm?” he asks me.
“Good.”
He pins me with a glare. “If you experience the slightest discomfort, inform me.”
“I will.” I dip my head in acknowledgement. But it’s hard to know exactly when adrenaline runs thick through your bloodstream, making you feel invincible.
The championship might not be the Super Bowl, but it’s still a show. But we’re the main act.
On the field, I spot her in the window of the suite. She’s there, waving at me, surrounded by my parents, my sister, and Levi.Seeing them all there for me overwhelms me with emotions. Tears well up in my eyes, but I fight them off. Pulling myself together, I do a few breathing exercises to ground myself.
The whistle blows, and it’s a fight for every yard, each pass to find its target, but we claim our win.
I rip my helmet off, and Roman and I jump, bumping our chests. This pic will be all over the sports news tonight.
“We did it,” he says, foreheads pressed together.
A team group hug follows, and we chant with the fans.
The interviews happen in a blur of celebratory madness.
In the locker room, pandemonium ensues. Some players are on the benches, dancing in just their underwear, while others FaceTime with their loved ones, and the rest take pictures and videos.
Coach comes in, his emotions clear on his face. “I’m so damn proud of you. You’ve been the best team I have had the honor to coach.”
