Page 223 of Hard Pass

Beside me Willa screams, “Playoffs here we come, baby,” while Malachi replenishes the beer he just spilled. The crowd all but riots around us but the noise fades beneath the pounding of my heart.

Because down on the field, Cole glances toward me one more time before pulling his helmet back on.

And suddenly I know.

Whatever happens next? It’s one hundred percent his to own.

CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE

Cole

The stadium explodes.

Confetti cannons fire overhead, showering the field in red and blue and white while seventy thousand people lose their absolute minds around us.

Playoffs. Holy shit. We actually did it.

Music pounds through the speakers loud enough to rattle my chest as teammates bump into me from every direction. Hands reach out for my helmet. Grab my jersey. Tug on my arms.

Everyone wants a piece of me when I only want one person.

People shout in my ear, but I can’t hear a goddamn thing above the roar in my own head. We really fucking did it.

Instinct has my eyes lifting toward the stands looking for a red cap behind the bench before I can stop it.

Old habit.

Years of searching crowds for one face. For his one nod. For the hope he’d look at me and it would say I’d finally done enough.

My chest tightens for half a second then eases just as quickly because, that isn’t who I want to find anymore.

My gaze shifts across the stadium instead—searching for her.

Where is she?

The opposing quarterback reaches me first. “Hell of a game,” he says, breathless as we slap hands.

“You too. Great job,” I say.

Another shoulder clap. Another congratulations. Another camera shoved in my face, but I barely register any of it because my eyes are already scanning the field.

The sidelines.

The tunnel.

The empty suite level overhead.

Where is she?

Need coils tight in my chest so fast it almost catches me off guard. Not want. Need. Like my body knows this moment isn’t complete until I see her.

A reporter starts asking me something about clinching a playoff spot after the season I had, but I don’t even hear his full question before my gaze shifts over the crowd again.

And then I feel it.

Hands on my back. Her hands on my back. I turn just in time for Dublin to launch herself at me. I catch her automatically as her legs wrap around my waist and her arms lock around my neck.

“Playoffs!” she yells breathlessly over the noise.