Epilogue
NATE
Super Bowl logos were everywhere. Fans waved signs and towels. It was the kind of atmosphere I loved and dreaded. The pressure to win sat on my chest. It was both welcoming and terrifying. When this game ended, I was going to be either the hero of Harbor Bay or the guy everyone hated tomorrow.
Despite all that, this was exactly where I wanted to be. After last year, I wasn’t sure I’d be back. Now, I was in survival and instinct mode.
Sweat clung to the back of my neck beneath my pads, while the stadium noise was so damn loud, I could barely hear myself think. Bright lights and cameras were everywhere. Eighty thousand fans screamed as if the next play would secure the game.
This game was everything.
We were down by three points with two minutes left on the clock.
I bent forward with my hands braced on my knees, while Coach Daniel rattled off the next play in my headset.
I glanced briefly toward the suites. Becca stood against the glass; my sister Callie had her arm around her shoulder, and my folks looked like they were ready to pass out at any second.
The ref blew the whistle, and I jogged back over to the huddle.
“All right.” I smacked my hands and shouted over the noise. “Let’s go win this thing.”
The guys around me smacked helmets. We were focused and locked in. The ball snapped, and I threw a pass right down the middle. We got twelve yards and a first down. The crowd went wild. We were out of timeouts, so I hurried back to the line and went over the next play.
There was only a minute left. I could feel the game winding down to a couple plays.
Atlanta’s defense was putting pressure on us.
The coaches were shouting and running up and down the sidelines.
I took a snap and threw a short pass to Ryder, who was open.
The ball sailed right into his hands as he ran, fighting for every yard like he had something to prove.
We were moving down the field, gaining yards. That was all that mattered.
The next play, I got sacked before I could release the ball. My shoulder ached from the hit, but I got back up without hesitation. I didn’t have time to think about it.
The defense was adjusting its coverage, trying to throw me off, but I was in the zone. Every second, every play counted.
The instant the ball was snapped, I spotted Jax sneaking past his defender. I launched the ball forty yards down the field while the entire stadium held its breath. I watched the ball spiral through the air and land perfectly into Jax’s hands.
Without breaking stride, he kept running until his feet crossed the goal line.
Touchdown!
The stadium went wild. My teammates crashed into me. Fans screamed, and empty beer cups rained from the stands. The guys from the sidelines spilled onto the field. I was getting hit from every angle.
“Holy shit! We did it.” Jax threw his helmet on the ground and lifted me into the air.
“Super Bowl champs, baby,” Ryder yelled. A few guys were openly crying, and the coaches were all hugging each other.
The sideline reporters shoved their way toward me before I could even catch my breath.
A microphone was shoved in my face. “Nate, talk about a comeback season. How does it feel?”
I wiped the sweat from my forehead. “It’s the best feeling in the world.”
They started shouting out more questions, but I broke away when I spotted Becca sprinting across the field. Her hair was wild, and her eyes were filled with tears. I caught her around the waist before she crashed into me. I lifted her straight up off the ground while she cried into my shoulder.
Finally, I could fucking breathe again.
“You did it!” she shouted against my lips.
“We did it,” I corrected her.
Her hands went to my chest as her bright blue eyes locked on mine. “I’ve never been prouder in my life. Congrats, Champ.”
Her slender arms wrapped around my neck while the confetti rained down around us. There were cameras and people everywhere, but I didn’t care. I was holding the only thing that really mattered.
I buried my face in her neck. “I fucking love you.”
She pulled back, just enough to frame her hands along my face. “I love you too, but you smell terrible.”
I laughed while she stepped back and pulled something out of her bag.
“I wanted to wait and give this to you.” She pressed a rolled-up piece of paper that was tied with a ribbon.
The second I unfolded it, I knew exactly what it was.
It was a copy of the article. The one she wrote about me months ago.
There, in the middle of the chaos, I scanned over the first few words she wrote, and suddenly, this wasn’t just about the game or the win. It was about everything that had brought us to this point. It also brought me her.
I looked down at the woman who owned my heart and soul. “I was wondering if this was ever going to get published.”
“I wanted to wait until this was all over. I figured what better time to run this than after the Super Bowl win.”
“Wait,” I said, feeling my eyebrows pull together. “How did you know I was going to win?”
“Because I believe in you. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind about whether you would win.”
I shook my head and pulled her into me.
Around us, the stadium was celebrating. Teammates were shouting, but holding Becca in my arms felt like everything had come full circle.
I rested my forehead against hers. “I’m going to marry you someday.”
Her breath caught, so I pressed a finger to her lips. “I’m not proposing today, but I will soon, so you’d better get ready to say yes.”
When I did ask her to marry me, I wanted that moment to be just about us. And as we walked off the field, arm in arm, I realized winning the Super Bowl wasn’t even the biggest moment of my life. Falling in love with her was.