Chapter 48
Connor
My entire body relaxed when she walked into the room. Micah agreed to get her here for me this morning, and I was ready to reveal everything that was happening next. Coach was on my side, had been from when I approached him. My team was sitting front row, too. This was it.
“I know a lot of you are here today expecting to hear about my international move to Ireland,” I said into the mic eyes firmly fixed on her baby blues. “But I’m not here to announce that.”
A ripple moved through the room. Teddy’s mouth dropped open as she stared at me.
“I’m here to talk about what I’m choosing.” I continued. “And what I’m not willing to leave behind.”
Her fists might’ve tightened at her side, and I wanted to soothe that anxiety with my own hands, instead I continued.
“I’ve been given opportunities. Incredible ones. Ones most players don’t get. But none of them matter if I’m building something somewhere I don’t want to be.”
She swallowed so hard it echoed in me, too.
“And I want to be here in Solterra.” My heart was in flames for the woman across the room. I may have been talking to the press, but every word was meant for her.
The quiet that followed pressed in from all sides. I wanted to tell her exactly how I felt about her right here with all these witnesses, but I also wanted the moment to be ours alone, this was the best option I could come up with.
“In the last few months,” I said, pulse soaring, “I’ve watched the Valkyries show up when things were hard, when being excellent wasn’t enough, and they were still asked to justify their presence.
I’ve seen the team carry expectations no one ever bothered to question, and instead of letting them crush everything you’ve been working toward, you used them to build something stronger. ”
Teddy leaned toward Micah for a second, whispering something to her, and Micah smiled and nodded.
“I’ve watched the entire team stand up for women who weren’t even in the room yet. Fight for facilities, for coverage, for resources, for respect—knowing full well that every pushback would be framed as attitude instead of advocacy.”
Her chin lifted as her eyes began to shine.
“No one ever asked to be celebrated for it. You just kept going, because someone had to.”
Memories of the last few months we’d spent together swarmed me, and I couldn’t help but smile.
I wasn’t going to out our relationship today.
As badly as I wanted the world to know, she deserved to have the spotlight for the reasons she wanted, not because of her personal life.
But I couldn’t go this entire speech without her knowing how much she meant to me as a captain.
“So let me say it plainly, where it can’t be ignored. Teddy Sloane, you are the most inspirational captain I’ve ever met. Not because you make it look easy, but because you refuse to settle for less than your entire team deserves.”
Something passed across her face—pride, disbelief, emotion—before she smoothed it away and stood taller with a gentle nod.
“If this league is moving forward, if this sport survives and grows the way it should, it’s because of leaders like you. And I’m done pretending that supporting that is anything other than my responsibility, too.”
I angled myself slightly more toward the press now. This was a lesson everyone needed to hear today.
“So when people ask me what progress looks like in this sport, I don’t talk about facilities or funding or shared stadiums. I talk about captains like Teddy Sloane, who refuse to let excellence be optional for women while grace is demanded of them.”
The room shifted.
“And I want to be clear about something,” I said. “Supporting that isn’t a favor. It’s not a sacrifice. It’s the bare minimum. Anything less is complicity.”
I gripped the sides of the podium.
“Which brings me to my next point.” I cleared my throat, inhaling deeply. “I’ve been given the green light to turn our old Knights stadium into an all-girls rugby program with professional pathways.”
Chatter began to fold into the silence of the room, escalating quickly. I knew there would be infinite questions, but the person who deserved to ask them first was Teddy. She was all I cared about.
I could see the rise and fall of her chest and the disbelief written all over her face.
The room didn’t give either of us time to recover. Voices overlapped, chairs scraped back, shutters fired in rapid bursts. Hands shot into the air.
“Connor—Can you clarify—”
“Is this already funded?”
“What does that mean for you and Captain Sloane?”
“Is this a permanent commitment?”
“Does this affect your contract—”
I lifted my free hand, not to answer, but to pause them.
“A formal statement is being made alongside my investors later today. I will remain captain of the Knights until further notice. Any other questions will be answered in time. Thank you for your time today. I look forward to what’s coming next. ”
Before anyone could object, I stepped back from the podium and headed to where she was already moving toward the exit. Cameras followed, flashes popping, but I didn’t slow. I didn’t look back.
Micah let her through first, and our PR assistant, Daphne, halted the press who were still asking questions, but I needed to get to her.
I’d barely made it out of the door and across the hallway when a hand closed around my wrist and pulled me straight into an empty storage closet. Her scent immediately surrounded me as I looked around, remembering the last time we were in a dark place like this together and how long ago that felt.
“Jesus Christ,” she said, one hand lifting to her face. “Connor.”
I didn’t give her space. I stepped in instead, soothing her before she could spiral, my hands steady where everything else felt like it was shaking.
“What the hell was that?” she demanded, breathless, eyes bright and wide.
That fire—the defiance, the refusal to be handled—was exactly why I was standing here.
It was what had tilted my world on its axis and forced me to rethink everything I thought my life would look like. I was relieved to see it hadn’t dulled.
Her hands came up to my jacket, fingers curling into the fabric like she needed the contact. “When did you decide this?” she asked. “How long have you been planning it? Why didn’t you tell me? Were you ever going to tell me before—”
I caught her wrists gently.
“I wanted to,” I said. “A dozen times. But I needed it to be real first. Coach has been helping me, putting me in contact with the right people. I wanted to tell you so many times.”
Her throat bobbed as she swallowed, emotion finally cracking through the adrenaline.
“And Ireland?” she asked, her voice quiet and so out of character for her. “Was that ever an option?”
“It was.” I nodded. “And it wasn’t enough.”
Her eyes searched my face, like she was bracing for something else to fall apart.
I stopped, listening to the muffled noises outside the door. A reminder that the world hadn’t stopped even if we were in a private bubble right now.
“It started to become less of a want and more of a burden.” I sighed, still feeling that pang of guilt in my gut, but what I was doing now was so much stronger than that.
“I love living here, I love my team, and it took me a while to realize that I didn’t have to live up to anyone else’s version of me.
“I was already living my dream.” I stepped closer to her, bracketing her hips in my hands. “And you made it so much more.”
“You didn’t do this because of me,” she said, more a question than a statement.
Her eyes searched mine, frantic and wild, processing it all.
“I did this because standing beside you made it impossible not to see what matters.”
Her breath shuddered.
“I don’t even know what to say,” she whispered.
“Don’t say anything,” I whispered back. “Just kiss me.”
She surged forward then, hard and unfiltered, all the restraint from the room burning off in one intense, perfect second as she kissed me.
When we broke apart, she was already talking again.
“Okay,” she said, breathless. “You have to explain everything. Starting from the beginning.” She pushed at my chest with little force. “And don’t skip anything.”
“I won’t leave anything out, but I’m not going to tell you everything in a storage closet.”
She laughed, and I knew then that I was never going to recover from her. “Why?”
“Because the last time you kissed me in a closet, you ran away.”
Her eyes held me captive. Then she leaned in, wrapping her hands around my neck and kissing me again.
“I’m not running,” she breathed against my lips.
And that was everything I’d hoped to hear from her.
***
The evening had melted into that lazy stretch where the sun dipped low but didn’t disappear completely, the sky washed in pale gold and blue. The ocean remained calm beyond the deck, steady and endless. And I had Teddy beside me.
“So Micah knew this morning? That’s why she pulled me from sprints?”
I nodded. “She was a lot of help. I didn’t know how I was going to get you there without inducing too many questions.”
“I need to talk to my so-called best friend.”
“She wants to see you happy.”
She smiled softly, eyes on mine. “I am happy.”
Hearing those words from her was all I needed right now.
We’d found the perfect spot in the diner’s beach seating area.
“God, that smells so freaking good, I’m starving,” Teddy said, inhaling the salty fried food lingering in the air.
The waitress came and we ordered a surf ‘n’ turf platter to share—with extra fries, of course. Our Coke floats were placed in front of us quickly, and that gave Teddy all the wait time she could handle.
“Okay.” She rested her elbows on the table. “Start from the beginning.”
I leaned forward too, matching her posture but also wanting to be closer to her. “It wasn’t one thing; it was a lot of small things.”
“So start from the first moment.”