Chapter 27 Jade #2
“You-know-who will love it. You look expensive, like you run this place.”
I swat at her arm, looking around yet again to see if anyone’s heard, but there’s luckily no one close enough. “I do run this place, and will you keep it down? Someone could hear you.”
“I know. It’s so hot.”
“Will you stop hitting on me?”
“Not until you agree to one night.”
I snort, knowing she’s not actually serious. “I don’t think you-know-who is open to sharing.”
“That’s fair. To be honest, I don’t think I could stomach being with anyone but Myles at this point.” Her stare is wistful as she looks out to find him on the pitch.
The thought behind her words felt familiar, like they’ve been something floating around in my own head for longer than I was willing to admit.
“Excuse me, can I get through please?” Lottie pushes her way through the aisle, heading in our direction.
If not for the slightly limp pink hair, I’m not sure I would have recognized her.
She’s wearing dark grey sweatpants and a matching hoodie, completely devoid of the color I’ve come to expect her to wear.
She lacks any of her usual cheeriness and is only wearing two necklaces when her base minimum is four.
Aanya shoots me a concerned look before reaching over and crushing Lottie in a hug.
“Hey babe, you alright?” Aanya asks.
“Yeah, of course.” Her voice is leeched of life, and the words do the opposite to comfort me. Everything about her right now feels wrong.
Her skin is slightly splotchy, as if she’s been crying. “Are you sure?”
She won’t look either of us in the eye, but it has to be a good sign she’s here right?
“Yes, just a rough couple of weeks, but the match will make me feel better. They always do.” She sits down, wrapping her arms around her waist, almost curling in on herself like she’s trying to shrink away from the attention.
Aanya and I take our seats, instinctively bracketing her as the players take to the pitch. Tieran walks out toward the center line so he can do the coin toss, and I feel like there's a determined set to his shoulders that wasn’t there in previous games.
The coin soars through the air, flipping end over end until the referee catches it and indicates toward Tieran in favor of our team.
The stands erupt as our fans cheer at the advantage.
He keeps his composure and gets in position just behind the halfway line so he can deliver the first kick of the match.
Tieran places the ball on the field and stands, shoulders back but head bowed.
Then, his head turns slightly in our direction, and his eyes find mine from three hundred feet away.
The world stops under the weight of that stare.
To everyone else, it looks like he’s taking a moment to center himself, but I know he’s looking for me to steady his nerves—to see the one person who will always believe in him.
My chin dips in the most infinitesimal motion, and I hope it’s enough to convey to him everything I know to be true.
You can do this. You are the mountain. You are the indomitable force. Nothing in this world is strong enough to hold you down. I believe in you enough for the both of us.
Tieran cracks his neck, bouncing on the balls of his feet while mapping out a course in his mind for the trajectory he wants with this kick. The crowd goes eerily silent, waiting on the edge of their seats, as if they too can feel the shift in the air.
I can see him take a steadying breath from where I’m sitting—can already see the sweat start to glisten on his skin, despite the cool breeze curling around us.
Then, I see the tension slide off his shoulders, see his lips curving upward, and the divot I love so much pops in his cheek right before he takes two powerful steps back and charges forward, strong thighs flexing with every push against the grass.
Tieran’s foot connects with the ball, and I swear, I can feel the thud reverberate throughout my whole body, or maybe that’s just the beat of my heart about to burst out of my chest.
This is different.
His eyes ignite with a blazing inferno as the ball soars through the air, and all the men on the field scatter.
All I can see is number ten—the joy on his face as he runs across the field, dodging player after player, shouting to his teammates.
I couldn’t tear my gaze away if I tried, and all I feel is an overwhelming sense of pride.
Ekon is the current carrier of the ball when one of the opposition's players takes him out at the calves, men from both teams piling on to try and get the ball from him.
Brighton’s center grabs hold of the ball and makes a run for it, only to be quickly intercepted and flanked by two of the Legends.
It’s airborne a moment later in an attempt to get it to a teammate when Tieran materializes out of nowhere, grabbing it out of the air, clutching it to his chest and running in the opposite direction like he’s being chased by a hoard of zombies.
I’m off my feet, Lottie next to me grabbing ahold of my hand, more full of life than she’s been since arriving, and we’re screaming go, go, GO!
Men are grabbing for him from every direction, but it’s almost like he’s levitating, completely untouchable. He’s twenty feet from the try line, and my heart is in my throat, wanting him to have this win more than I’ve wanted anything in my life—aside from him.
Number nine from the opposition dives for Tieran when he’s three feet from the line, and I think I might throw up if he takes my man down when he’s this close to proving to himself that he’s still got it.
But the contents of my stomach stay inside my body when he anticipates the move and jumps out of his grasp at the last second, diving for the try line, touching the ball to the ground, and scoring the first try of the match.
Tieran skids across the field, letting out a roar of exuberance as he jumps up, grass and dirt coating his shins, and kisses a camera that was filming the whole thing.
I’m going to need to find that video later and save it to my phone for…personal reasons.
The noise from the stadium drowns out to nothing when Tieran turns back toward the field and finds me, even though we’re hundreds of feet away. He’s pointing down at something, and it takes me a minute to realize he’s pointing at the mountain inked on his forearm before pointing back at himself.
I’m the mountain, he says without words, and I nod back at him, beaming with incandescent pride.
The rest of the game follows the same pulse-pounding rhythm, and before I know it, the clock runs down, and the Legends have won their first game of the season.
Aanya and Lottie are balls of frenetic energy, each grabbing one of my arms and yanking me toward the team on the pitch.
Aanya is immediately launching into Myles’ arms, and he’s spinning her around until they fall to the ground in a heap of laughter.
Harry, the team’s equipment manager, is chasing after players with bottles of water.
Lottie has a mad case of the zoomies, the win having pulled her out of her funk temporarily as she hops around the players, giving them all high fives.
She even trips over her own feet, and Cavan has to help her up, a soft, exasperated smile touching his lips.
And Tieran—Tieran’s walking toward me, looking like an absolute god wrapped in a sweat-soaked rugby uniform straight out of my dirtiest dreams.
He stops a foot away from me, and it's too far. “Hey, boss.” His voice is low enough that with the sounds of exuberance, it’s easy to get lost, and no one but me hears it.
“Hey, Captain.” I’m fighting a smile.
“You know you’re going to have to wear our colours every match now.”
“Why’s that?” I ask, playing along.
“I’ve finally got my good luck charm.”