Epilogue
STEELE
Super Bowl Sunday
“Alright, boys,” Maddox says as he leans into the huddle.
“This is it. No matter what happens on this next drive, I couldn’t be prouder of each and every one of you.
We went from a team of misfits who nobody thought would even win a game to playing on the world’s biggest stage in just three short seasons.
That’s not something that comes with talent alone, although we have plenty of it.
We made it here because we’re brothers who selflessly go to war for one another every week.
And win or lose, they can’t take that away from us.
Now, let’s go out there and show them why they shouldn’t underestimate the Renegades! ”
“Hell, yeah!” Emmett shouts as Jett hops on the balls of his feet like an animal that’s about to be uncaged. Adrenaline thumps at my pulse points, nerves and excitement flowing through me as we prepare to secure the biggest win of our lives.
“Deep flow, razor left on three. Deep flow, razor left. Got it?” Maddox calls the play, and we break, fans cheering at the top of their lungs as we take our places at the line of scrimmage.
My gaze lifts to the scoreboard, a reminder of just how close we are to doing the unthinkable—winning the Super Bowl as a third-year expansion team.
We’re down by three with forty-nine seconds left on the clock and a long sixty yards separating us from the end zone.
We could get into field goal range and take this thing into overtime, but I’d be willing to bet every man on this field is envisioning a win right here.
It’ll take some work—and a little bit of luck—since Arizona’s defense has been reading us like a book all night.
But if anyone can do it, it’s the motherfucking Rock City Renegades.
“Red, nineteen! Red, nineteen! Hut, hut, hut!”
The ball hits Maddox’s hands, and he rolls back, looking down the field as his receivers run their routes.
Fading off to the right, I throw a quick block, giving him some extra time to let the play develop.
I see Emmett break away in the distance, watching overhead as the pass is fired his way and hoping that the coverage is weak enough for him to get a hand on it.
The stadium erupts when Em makes the grab, tucking it into his elbow at the twenty-five-yard line just as the Mustangs’ safety pulls him to the ground. It’s an easy first down for us, and since we’ve both used our time-outs, the clock continues to run as we hurry back to the line.
Maddox calls for the snap, immediately spiking the ball to the ground as fast as he can.
The move stops the clock, giving us an opportunity to return to the huddle for the next play.
There’s half a minute left, and we’re five yards away from the red zone, which means we’ll need a completed pass and for the runner to get out of bounds.
This will give us time to set up our goal line offense, then it’ll be a fight to get into the end zone.
In the huddle, Maddox relays the play, a quick slant to the sideline. Seconds later, we’re readied up, waiting for his signal once again.
“Gator, forty-two! Gator, forty-two! Set, hut!”
In an instant, our guys are off the line, running about ten yards before cutting outward.
Champ finds a sliver of open space, waving to Maddox just as the bullet pass is sent his way.
Like a thread through the eye of a needle, he catches the ball, but a defender yanks him to the turf before he can get out of bounds.
Not only are we short of the first down, but seconds are still ticking off the clock as we rush back to our positions.
It’s too much of a risk to spike it again, so Maddox calls the next play right from the line.
“Monster! Monster!” he shouts, my body like a live wire as I scan the field in front of me.
This is my play—the one Liv designed specifically so I could truck through the defense in the red zone.
We’ve run it many times over the course of the season, but this one?
This one could win us the fucking Super Bowl.
I want it more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.
Well, almost anything.
Maddox crouches down, readying himself for the snap as I drown out every raucous cheer, listening only for the one voice I need in my head as I attempt to calm my raging nerves.
Lucky for me, Sydney has been on the sidelines all day, hard at work making content for the team’s social media accounts.
And while I can’t see her from where I am right now, her excited screams are ringing loud and clear as my quarterback yells his cadence.
“White, eighty! White, eighty! Hut, hut!”
Everything happens in slow motion, from the ball touching Maddox’s hands to him holding it out for me.
I pause for just a moment, watching the most beautiful lane open before my eyes as I tighten my grip and run straight through it.
There are bodies everywhere, Mustangs defenders using all the strength they have left to keep me from the end zone.
But I’m locked in, my cleats digging into the grass beneath them as I power through the crowd.
I drop my shoulder, a mighty battle cry rolling up my chest as I push one, two, three more yards, then fall into the end zone with the ball still clutched to my chest. The entire stadium erupts, every purple jersey on the field piling on top of me in celebration.
Holy fucking shit.
We just won the Super Bowl.
“That’s how you run the football, Harlow!
” Emmett shouts, the biggest smile I’ve ever seen stretched from ear to ear as he yanks me to my feet.
“That’s some tough guy shit!” He bumps his helmet against mine, slapping my shoulder before he moves aside.
Maddox, Jett, and Theo rush me all at once, congratulating me on the big play as purple and black confetti begins to fall from the sky above us.
That’s when I realize that there’s someone else I need to celebrate this epic, life-changing moment with.
“Let’s get our fucking girls!” I tell them, and we all tear our helmets off as we race to the middle of the field, where we said we’d meet them when we won.
As expected, Livvy is first, a loud squeal cutting through the air as she leaps into her boyfriend’s arms. I can’t help but chuckle as she climbs Maddox like a tree, pressing bright pink kisses all over his face as he laughs in response.
The other girls fly past me next, garnering my attention for a split second before I see a tiny golden blur in my peripheral vision.
I turn just in time to watch Sydney launch herself right at me, catching her with both hands and hoisting her over my head like the trophy she is.
She giggles wildly, throwing her arms up in triumph.
“You did it! You won!”
I laugh out loud, sliding her down my body and taking her lips in a chaste, yet passion-filled kiss. My heart flips in my chest, so full that it actually might burst through my jersey at any moment. I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy in all my years, and I doubt I ever will again.
Well, at least not until the day I make her Sydney Harlow. That’ll definitely be better than this.
“We won, baby! All of us!” I pull her into a tight embrace, looking over her shoulder at the most important people in my life with nothing but gratitude for each and every one of them.
Less than a year ago, I arrived in Cleveland as a broken, jaded shell of a man.
It took some time, but they gave me a home and showed me that family is so much more than the blood you share.
They stepped up when I needed them the most and saved me when I wasn’t sure I was even worthy of it. No matter how hard I try, I’ll never be able to truly thank them for loving me the way they do—least of all, this beautiful, selfless woman who’s given me the greatest gift of all…her heart.
I’m proud of how far we’ve come, and I know that this win is just the beginning for the Rock City Renegades.
Keep reading for a sneak peek…