I’m off my feet, Lottie next to me grabbing ahold of my hand, more full of life than she’s been since arriving, and we’re screaminggo, go, GO!
Men are grabbing for him from every direction, but it’s almost like he’s levitating, completely untouchable. He’s twenty feet from the try line, and my heart is in my throat, wanting him to have this win more than I’ve wanted anything in my life—aside from him.
Number nine from the opposition dives for Tieran when he’s three feet from the line, and I think I might throw up if he takes my man down when he’s this close to proving to himself that he’s still got it. But the contents of my stomach stay inside my body when he anticipates the move and jumps out of his grasp at the last second, diving for the try line, touching the ball to the ground, and scoring the first try of the match.
Tieran skids across the field, letting out a roar of exuberance as he jumps up, grass and dirt coating his shins, and kisses a camera that was filming the whole thing.
I’m going to need to find that video later and save it to my phone for…personal reasons.
The noise from the stadium drowns out to nothing when Tieran turns back toward the field and finds me, even though we’re hundreds of feet away. He’s pointing down at something, and it takes me a minute to realize he’s pointing at the mountain inked on his forearm before pointing back at himself.
I’m the mountain, he says without words, and I nod back at him, beaming with incandescent pride.
The rest of the game follows the same pulse-pounding rhythm, and before I know it, the clock runs down, and the Legends have won their first game of the season.
Aanya and Lottie are balls of frenetic energy, each grabbing one of my arms and yanking me toward the team on the pitch. Aanya is immediately launching into Myles’ arms, and he’s spinning her around until they fall to the ground in a heap of laughter. Harry, the team’s equipment manager, is chasing after players with bottles of water. Lottie has a mad case of the zoomies, the win having pulled her out of her funk temporarily as she hops around the players, giving them all high fives. She even trips over her own feet, and Cavan has to help her up, a soft, exasperated smile touching his lips. And Tieran—Tieran’s walking toward me, looking like an absolute god wrapped in a sweat-soaked rugby uniform straight out of my dirtiest dreams.
He stops a foot away from me, and it's too far. “Hey, boss.” His voice is low enough that with the sounds of exuberance, it’s easy to get lost, and no one but me hears it.
“Hey, Captain.” I’m fighting a smile.
“You know you’re going to have to wear our colours every match now.”
“Why’s that?” I ask, playing along.
“I’ve finally got my good luck charm.”
“Where are you taking me?”
“You’ll see,” Jade says cryptically, a slight tilt playing on her full mouth. A drop of coffee gathers on her bottom lip from the drink she picked up before meeting me at my house, demanding I let her drive my vintage cherry red Porsche. I took one look in her determined eyes and decided to hedge my bets. Her eyes softened upon seeing the row of green and pink crochet knots tied onto my keyring, before ripping the keys out of my grasp and hopping in the drivers side. Turns out, she’s a better driver than me, albeit not afraid to go fast.
“Is this the end of my life? Should I be calling my family to say final goodbyes?” I tease, staring at her profile as she handles my car with expert care, shifting gears like she’s bloody LeClerc himself. There’s absolutely nothing this woman can’t do.
“I guess that depends on how good your hand-eye coordination is.”
I scoff. “You know how good it is.”
“Exactly. So you should be fine…I think.”
I was officially curious. When I asked Jade after the match what our date would be, she kept it vague, only telling me she’d meet me at mine becausewe needed to take my car. I had no idea what to expect, and, in classic Jade style, she kept me guessing.
That’s all I’ve done since I met her. It’s a singularly humbling experience being with someone like Jade. She makes me braver, stronger, more vulnerable—she makes me want to be better at everything, and it is an honor to be with her, because I know she doesn’tneedme. No, shewantsme. She’s choosing me, every day, regardless of the risks.
I’ll choose her every day in spite of them, because nothing matters now without her. I never want to win another game or accomplish any goal if she’s not by my side to celebrate with me.
I reach over to grab the hand she’s resting on top of the gear shift, bringing it to my mouth and kissing that one finger that means more than the rest before placing it back down and settling my palm against her upper thigh.
She drives us through winding country roads, and the sun shines through the window, illuminating her in a soft glow, making her eyes blaze like hellfire. Sometimes, I’m scared to blink, afraid when I open my eyes, she’ll disappear, and I’ve imagined this whole thing. How could someone utterly flawless, someone so horrendously perfectfor me, exist in this world?
After a half hour of driving while serenading Jade with every song the radio was able to pick up on these narrow back streets, we finally pull down a road paved in cracked stone. I try not to wince at every unavoidable pothole as my car dips and scrapes the ground. Four minutes feels like four hours until we pull up to a nondescript brick building with a bright red door. Jade whips the car into a spot between two others, and I grab her hand as we walk inside. When she squeezes back in response, I swear, the swelling in my chest would have lifted me onto the moon if she wasn’t holding on.
Inside is pretty nondescript, boasting a small gathering area where a few people stand and several solid oak hutches run along the back wall. There’s a check-in counter to theleft, with a sign readingShoot Your Shotand a stout man with a wiry ginger beard flipping through a clipboard.
As we approach, he looks up from his work and quickly does a double take. “Tieran Stone?”
I nervously glance at Jade, who subtly steps a little behind me so she’s out of view in case he recognizes her too. “Yes, sir. Lovely to meet you…” I trail off, waiting for him to introduce himself.
“Barnaby.” I’m barely able to hold back my wince as he crushes my hand in his grip. “I ‘ave to say, Stone, that last match was electric. It was so good to see you on fire again; I knew it would ‘appen eventually. Told me mates you was just ‘avin a rough patch, but e’ll be back, I said. And nows, look at ya! Bloody country worshiping at your boots again.”
