But I do.
I push against the turf, forcing my body to cooperate. My arms shake under the weight, my core screaming in protest. Air finally rushes into my lungs in a sharp, brutal inhale. Pain follows right behind it, but I welcome the pain.
Pain means I’m still here.
“Haynes, don’t?—”
Too late.
I get a knee under me. The stadium noise starts to creep back in, low at first, like a distant hum, and then it crescendos louder and louder. I rise up, every muscle in my body protesting. My ribs ache and my head spins for half a second, but I lock it down, forcing myself steady. And then I’m standing. The crowd erupts and it hits all at once, the cheers, the shouting, the roar of tens of thousands of people losing their damn minds.
But I don’t look at them.
I only look at her.
Sutton’s still frozen, still watching me like she doesn’t quite believe it, so I give her a real nod this time. Stronger and steadier.
I’ve got this.
Her hands drop slowly from her face and something in my chest loosens.
That’s all I needed.
The ref is already resetting the ball. Coach is shouting from the sideline, and I’m forced to sit out for at least one play. Seb will tell me to sit out the rest of the game but that’s not fucking happening.
“Make it quick, fellas,” I tell them once we’re under the tent. “I’ve got a game to finish.”
Sebastian, who has been by my side the entire time rolls his eyes. “Right. Like you’re going to finish the game.”
“Fucking right I’m going to finish the game. I’m going to finish this push down the field if you guys will just let me go.”
“Shepherd, you took a nasty ass blitz out there. Your ribs are going to be heavily bruised if not cracked. You’re out of your damn mind.”
I shake my head and move my body from side to side, refusing to wince at the pain. “See? I’m fine. I can move just fine. My ribs are fine. Everything is fine. I’m good. I promise.”
The medics run through their customary list of check points, making me feel like a car in for an oil change, and then they finally advise me to sit out and let second string handle the game.
“Sorry gentlemen. I’ve got a job to do and I’m going to fucking do it.”
“Shepherd, you don’t have to prove anything to Sutton. She saw you get hurt. She knows you’re injured.” Sebastian crosses his arm, berating me like he knows best.
“Thanks for the support, Dad, but I said I’m good and I’m going in.”
“Then we’re doing a full evaluation at the next turn over or end of this game. Whichever comes first.”
“Deal.”
It’s third and twenty-five when I jog back into position, taking every breath I can to force my body back into submission. The huddle forms around me, guys clapping my helmet, asking if I’m good.
“Yeah,” I say, voice still rough but solid enough. “Let’s run it.”
They hesitate but I don’t. I call the play and we break. Back under center, I roll my shoulders once, ignoring the ache and lingering tightness in my chest. The ball snaps and everything narrows. There’s no pain, no noise. Just the game.
The pocket forms, better this time, and I step into it.Waiting there with my hold, I see Jake cut across the middle toward the endzone. I know I’m about to get hit again. I feel it coming, pressure closing in fast, but it doesn’t matter. I plant my feet and release the ball, grunting loudly through the pain as my body shifts positions. The pass spirals perfectly into Jake’s hands for the last touchdown of the game.
The stadium explodes as teammates rush me, grabbing my shoulders, shouting in my face, but I don’t celebrate with them. Not before I turn and find my girl in the stands. When her eyes lock with mine, I tap my heart twice and then point to her, not giving two fucks who might be watching. She smiles as Killian shakes his head at me like I’ve lost my marbles for continuing to play after that hit.
But I don’t care what happened to me.
