Chapter 26
Kai
The pressure was fucking on tonight, no doubt about it. It wasn’t a bad kind of pressure; it wasn’t the kind making my hands shake like they did during my first practice here. It was more like a fist around my lungs, squeezing everything tightly.
Because this wasn’t just another game. This was the game where I needed to stop being Coach’s nephew and start being someone the team actually trusted.
And — if I admitted the truth buried deep enough it hurt — this was the game I wanted Tori to be proud of me. She didn’t say it out loud, but I saw the way her eyes lit when I got something right.
I wanted more of this, I wanted her to be proud of me. Craved it like oxygen.
The locker room vibrated with the sounds of tape ripping, cleats thudding and country music blaring. My uncle gave the standard speech, but my nerves were underwater, every sound muffled.
Reece slapped my helmet. “Big night, Sunshine.”
Reckon I was stuck with that nickname now. Oh joy.
“Yeah. Let’s hope I remember which direction I’m meant to bloody run.”
A few guys snorted.
“Just play fast, Sunshine. Pretend you’re tryna impress your uncle again,” Marcus drawled from across the room,
A muscle in my jaw twitched and I flexed my hand, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. Before I could answer, Coach stepped between us, his tone clipped.
“He doesn’t need to impress me. He earned his snaps. Focus on your own job, Marcus.”
The room fell silent and my chest tightened. I hadn’t realized how badly I needed someone to say it out loud.
The first defensive snap of the game always felt like sticking a fork into a live socket. It was a thrilling combination of anticipation and adrenaline, with the sense of anything could happen.
But tonight, the buzz was hotter than usual. My chest had gone tight and the helmet, which I still hadn’t got used to, felt too restrictive.
It was a playoff game with packed stands; the kind of night when a player either rose or folded.
I dropped into position just inside the box, my cleats grinding into turf still giving off a faint sun-warmed scent. My breath fogged briefly before dissipating into the humid night air.
The quarterback barked out the cadence and I bounced on my toes.
Left foot … right foot … feel the line shift … read the hips…
The snap cracked through the air. Their running back took the handoff, feet flashing wide and the whole defense flowed left in a wave of bodies and noise.
But something was wrong.
The quarterback hesitated ever so slightly as he turned, leaving the angle of his shoulders too open and pulling the ball tight across his body like a slingshot.
This wasn’t a sweep, it was a counter.
Pure instinct propelled me forward faster than any football playbook ever could. Before the guard had even pivoted, I shot through the inside gap.
The world narrowed to a tunnel of sound — cleats scraping behind me; the crowd roaring distantly; and my own breath rasping loudly inside my helmet.
The running back reappeared right in front of me, his eyes wide and I pounced on this opening. I rammed my shoulder into his, and he let out a grunt as our bodies collided and his breath was forced out of him.
Then both of us were in the air, legs tangling. The turf slammed up at us in a shockwave, and somewhere above the ringing in my ears I heard the crowd suck in a collective gasp.
Their second and short became third and long.
But for me it was nothing short but a triumph. My whole chest vibrated as though I’d swallowed a thunderclap.
“Hell yeah, Sunshine!” someone yelled as hands smacked my helmet.
“Where the hell’d that come from?”
“That’s how you fucking hit!”
I staggered to my feet, my heart pounding and my boots slipping slightly on the churned earth, as the boys crowded around me. For once, when they clapped my pads or grabbed my face mask in excitement, I didn’t feel like the team’s mascot.
For once, I wasn’t just the coach’s nephew or some foreign charity case the team tolerated.
I felt like a player, a real one.
When Coach finally called the seam route for me later, my stomach flipped. He’d hesitated for weeks, and I was painfully aware of the reason why. He didn’t think I could read coverage confidently, didn’t think I could make the catch under pressure.
But here was my shot, and I was sure as fuck going to make use of it.
I lined up, my fingers flexing against my thighs, and my eyes scanning the defense. Reece shot me a grin from the slot.
It said, ‘Don't blow it, Sunshine’. His idea of encouragement.
I exploded off the line with the snap. The safety hesitated — half a step, maybe less — but it was enough. He followed Reece across the field like he’d been doing all bloody game, leaving the middle wide, wide open.
Green stretched out before me. My strides lengthened, my lungs burning and my heart in my mouth. When I glanced up, I watched the ball spinning slowly and lazily high in the air. Like it was waiting for me.
Mine.
I sprang up to catch it, my arms stretching out long and my fingers brushing the leather before closing around it. The moment the ball hit my palms, I tucked it tightly against my ribs, just as two defenders slammed into me.
The world jolted and my knees buckled. Every instinct screamed at me to just go down, but I didn’t. I planted my right foot, leaned forward, and kept moving.
One step.
Two.
Three.
I managed to make it five whole yards, with two grown men clinging onto me as though I were giving them a piggyback. Finally, we all toppled in a heap onto the grass.
The stadium erupted into a roar so loud, it rattled through my chest.
I pushed myself up, my breath coming in fast pants and my vision blurred by sweat. Just then, Reece smacked the side of my helmet so hard, I saw stars.
“Sunshine!” he hollered. “You fucking monster!”
For a moment I let the grin on my face grow, because I could feel it in my bones, could feel I belonged out here.
Uncle was grinning and even Marcus looked begrudgingly impressed. But all I could think was…
God, I wish she were here.
We ended up winning the game, which resulted in everyone cheering, slapping each other's backsides, blasting music, and slamming helmets together. The locker room stank of sweat, triumph and cheap cologne.
Still, I couldn’t stop checking my phone. Tori was working, but I was hoping she’d watch my game if she got the chance, given it was being televised.
I wanted her to text me.
Wanted to see her name.
Wanted some stupid message like ‘Good job, idiot’ or ‘Stop letting people hit you’.
Nothing.
The team celebrated their win, but I felt empty inside. Despite standing at the peak of something I’d worked months for, the first person I wanted to see wasn’t there.
The person I most wanted to hold, the only person I was terrified of losing, wasn't here.
The ride home was initially loud, with the boys bragging, replaying highlights and singing badly to whatever awful song was playing through someone’s speaker.
Eventually everyone quieted down, stretched out and fell half-asleep. I stared at my phone for what felt like hours, my thumb hovering over the screen.
What if she was pulling away again?
What if she’d spent the night convincing herself to push me away?
What if she’d already started building walls I couldn’t climb?
Fuck it.
I typed before I chickened out.
Won the game.
Did pretty good too.
Nothing for twenty seconds and my leg bounced nervously. Then salvation came in the form of a magnificent buzz in my hand.
I saw. You were incredible.
My throat tightened and I swallowed thickly. The thought of her watching me play did things to me.
You watched?
…Maybe.
I grinned like a giddy child, my fingers flexing over the keyboard.
Wish you could’ve been there.
There was a pause and anxiety rolled in my stomach. I wasn’t shy about my feelings, but with someone as skittish as Tori, you never knew how they'd be perceived.
Me too.
My breath caught in my throat and I had to bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from giggling like a teenager.
She so wanted me.
Can’t wait to get home
My fingers dug into my thigh as the bus rolled down the highway. All the cold, hollow nerves from earlier burned away under something hotter, something deeper.
It was pure, unfiltered love. It wasn't just about kissing her or touching her; it was about knowing she was mine. I wanted to show her she wasn’t losing me.
Not any time soon. Never, in fact, at least not without a fight.