Chapter 24
Connor
That was fucking sensational to watch. The way Teddy’s legs powered her through the entire game, never stalling, never hesitating.
Setbacks didn’t stop her. Neither did the questionable calls or the bodies thrown at her from every angle.
She just adjusted and kept going, like friction only sharpened her.
There were moments she disappeared into the mess—rucks collapsing, bodies stacked—and then she’d reappear a second later, back on her feet, eyes up, hunting again.
It was relentless. A performance that wears the opposition down without them realizing quite how it’s happening.
I leaned forward without noticing, hands braced on my knees, tracking her instinctively.
Every time the Sirens looked like they might break through, these women didn’t let them have more ground.
They were there, closing space, forcing them sideways.
Teddy was always buying her team another breath, making space for everyone on her side.
She was a force out there.
I’ve watched her team before in college, in the games last season too, but seeing her on a professional stage gave her a light that shined so much brighter.
For the Valkyries to come away with the win on their first league game was a huge boost for them.
I couldn’t deny it fed that hungry beast inside me to win, to compete, to feel the mud coating my skin and the adrenaline spiking my blood.
Our first game was next week, and it couldn’t come fast enough.
“Fuck, if we played them, I think we’d lose,” Jake said, bringing me out of my trance.
I huffed a quiet laugh, leaning back in my seat at last. “Absolutely.” My eyes never strayed from the woman who always captured my attention on and off the pitch.
Jake followed my gaze. “You watched her the whole match.”
I didn’t bother denying it. “Hard not to.”
The noise in the stadium swelled, and they deserved every single moment.
“You like her,” Jake said, contemplating.
I side-eyed him and, once again, I didn’t deny it.
I did like her, and I wasn’t sure when I’d gotten to a point where I was okay being obvious about it.
Or maybe my best friend just knew me well enough.
Either way, he was right; I liked the fire inside her.
I liked that she rarely looked for permission in anything she did, on and off the pitch.
She took up space, she tried hard and never gave up.
The team moved toward the sidelines, laughing and leaning in close to fans pressed against the barriers.
Shirts were held out to be signed, young girls and boys all looking at these women with stars in their eyes.
Teddy was right there in the middle of it all, and I still couldn’t tear my eyes away.
She smiled and entertained every single person who caught her attention and everyone paid attention to her.
This was what it looked like when something clicked. When people saw themselves reflected in a team. It affected me. There was a quiet pressure at the back of my mind, not fully formed yet, but impossible to ignore.
For the first time, the question wasn’t about how long I could keep playing or how much more I could give on the pitch. It was about what came after the whistle.
Rugby had given me everything—discipline, purpose, belonging—and I wasn’t ready to let it go. Not even close. But watching it take root in someone else, I understood there was more to it than performance or legacy measured in caps and trophies.
This wasn’t just about me anymore. It was about access. Visibility. Making sure the next generation didn’t have to ask for space the way we had.
Maybe being an ally didn’t start with grand plans or declarations.
Maybe it started smaller.
With showing up. With listening.
With earning the trust of the fiercest woman I knew.
***
“Dude, why are we waiting? I want to get my ass to the bar,” Jake said to Bobby, who was waiting for his girl to come out.
Bobby checked his phone for the fourth time in a minute. “Micah said they’re finishing media stuff. She’ll come out in a second.”
I nodded like I hadn’t positioned myself here on purpose. I was clocking every Valkyries staff member who walked past, every laugh that drifted down the hallway, every second that stretched too long.
“I’m heading to the bar then,” Jake mumbled, typing on his phone. “Nate and the guys are over there.”
Not soon after he left, the door opened, and Micah walked out with Teddy by her side.
Micah ran straight to Bobby, curling herself around him, but my attention was on Teddy.
Her hair was damp but loose around her shoulders, falling in dark rivulets, skimming her collarbone before trailing down toward her elbows.
She’d changed into a Valkyries zip up that was navy and white.
She slowed when she saw us. Or me. It was hard to tell, but her gaze landed and stayed. Those light turquoise eyes settled on mine, and something in my chest shifted, subtle but immediate, like my body had registered her before my thoughts caught up.
The sounds around us kept moving, voices and footsteps passing, but my attention stayed fixed on her, as it had been all day.
The pulse under her porcelain skin thrummed a frantic beat. How her breath changed, how she’d taken in air and forgotten to let it go again. The distance between us stopped meaning much after that because I was drawn closer by some invisible force.
“Great game, sunshine.”
Her eyebrows lifted, surprise passing quickly across her face. “You watched it all?”
“Every second.”
Those two words suspended in the air, and I knew it gave me away a little too much.
“We’re going to get chicken at Frank’s,” Micah said. “You two hungry?”
Bobby glanced between us.
Teddy watched me, waiting for me to speak, but I wanted her to make the decision. “I’m starved, so yeah, that sounds good.”
Relief hit me. “Cool.”
We moved without ceremony, the four of us spilling out into the warm evening air.
Bobby’s keys jingled once before the truck unlocked and we all climbed in.
I willed my body to stay relaxed when Teddy climbed in beside me and the sweetness of whatever shampoo she’d used washed over me.
It was amplified in the car, enough that I was breathing her in and out, and I had to stop myself from leaning closer.
But my mind had already tagged it as something I’d miss once it was gone.
Thankfully, the journey wasn’t long, and the music from the radio gave me something else to focus on.
Frank’s neon sign glowed like a beacon as we went inside and slid into a small table near the window, vinyl seats creaking as we shifted. Menus were slapped down in front of us, edges curled from use. Teddy picked hers up immediately, eyes dropping to the page, roaming over the options.
Bobby didn’t bother opening his. “Micah and I are gonna get the share platter,” he said. “Extra fries.”
Micah nodded. “It’s so good, I can already taste the crunchy fried deliciousness. You guys should get it, too.”
My eyes flicked over to Teddy for a second, wondering how she felt about sharing, but she gave nothing away, just nodded with her nose still in the menu. “Yeah, that does look good.” Then turned to me and asked, “Think you can share with me, O’Riley?”
I huffed out a quiet laugh. “I don’t know. We’ve only just mastered sharing a stadium. Might be a bit ambitious to throw fries into the mix.”
She hid her smile between her teeth. “Fries are high-value assets.”
“People show their true colors over fries.”
Teddy gave me her full attention then, clear blue eyes glittered with amusement. “And what are you about to show me that I don’t already know?”
I leaned toward her slightly, letting my gaze fall to her lips for a split second. “That I don’t fold.”
Her laugh came quick and bright. “Over fries?”
“Especially over fries.”
She rolled her shoulders back. “Good,” she said. “Maybe I’d be disappointed if you did.”
From across the table, Bobby squinted at us. “Uh… Are we still talking about food?”
Micah leaned against him, clearly delighted. “This is basically their foreplay.”
Bobby groaned. “I’m hungry. Can we eat first, then talk about this weird sexual fry vibe after?”
The waitress approached the table, and we placed our order.
“So, how does it feel to have won your first professional game?” Bobby asked.
“Pretty unreal,” Micah said first.
“Natalie called after the game and was screaming in the locker rooms with all of us.” Teddy smiled.
“Who’s Natalie?” Bobby asked, echoing my thoughts.
“She’s family,” Teddy said. “She lived with us when my dad deployed.”
My thoughts picked up speed, trying to sort through what I actually knew about Teddy already.
Not much, it turned out. I hadn’t known her dad was military.
Hadn’t known there’d been anyone else in the house, filling the space when he was gone.
I knew she lost her mam, though I didn’t know how, and I wasn’t about to ask either.
It reframed things I’d always noticed but never fully understood: the way Teddy trusted actions over words, the way she didn’t wait to be taken care of, the way praise sometimes slid off her like she hadn’t grown up expecting it to last.
Teddy rolled her shoulders, like she’d said enough. “She told me before the game that we were going to win.” A small smile pulled at her mouth. “Said she’d known it all week.”
“Natalie has always had this like sixth sense,” Micah explained. “I want her to be my nanny. She’s awesome.”
“And taken,” Teddy jumped in, smiling.
“She adores you, Ted. I don’t stand a chance.”
Teddy snorted. “That’s because she’s known me since I was four months old.”
Bobby leaned back in his chair. “She’s basically your mom.”
Teddy tipped her head, thinking about it. “She’d never call herself that,” she said, a shadow briefly passing over her face. “But she kept things running when my dad was gone.”
My tongue burned with questions, ones I knew I couldn’t ask right now, especially not when Teddy was letting me see beyond the barrier of captain, rugby player, badass female that she carried all the time. Right now, she was relaxed, chatting to friends, riding that post-win high.
It was strange to realize I could watch her now without needing to provoke her the way I used to. Whatever that old dynamic had been, it no longer fit. That version of us had run its course, and whatever was forming now carried a sense of possibility instead of friction.
The drinks and food arrived, the table filling up again as conversation resumed, the waitress setting the fries between Teddy and me.
She reached for one without comment.
I followed a second later.
Nothing was said, and somehow that felt right.