Chapter Thirty-Two
“KAI’S IN,” ATTICUS said, bumping Kieran with his shoulder as they switched court sides.
“Did you just check your phone while you were at the bench?” Kieran glanced between the setter and their coach. “You know the rules, Coach will kill you if he catches you with your phone out.”
Atticus waved him off. “Extenuating circumstances. Besides, you’re the one who needs our help, don’t complain about how we give it!”
He had a point. “Kai will get her on the court?”
Atticus nodded, falling into place in the back row, readying for a serve from the Comets.
“Between him and Ivy, they’ll make sure she’s down here.
The guys will handle the rest, then it’s up to you, Cap.
” Atticus pointed at him. “Don’t screw this up, or no amount of trophies will keep me from haunting you.
I’ll be in your walls. In your fucking pipes. ”
There was a lot Kieran was trying hard not to screw up.
His plan was in place, and he had the whole team backing him up.
But they still had a game to win, and the score had been too close for comfort over the last four sets.
They’d been trading off with Los Angeles, the Cats taking one set, the Comets taking the next.
The game was tied up now, going the full five sets, and it was still anyone’s win to steal.
The serve came fast, giving the Cats no extra time to breathe.
Eric was there, diving into the floorboards, barely managing to get a fist under the ball.
They’d scored off a similar receive earlier in the game, at the expense of their libero’s face.
He was bandaged up now, the gash in his chin covered.
Kieran wouldn’t be surprised if a second exam would result in stitches, but Carpenter had been adamant that he was fine to keep playing once the bleeding had been staunched, and Coach had allowed it.
Atticus was there, crouching under Eric’s low save, just getting his hands beneath the ball as he surged forward, sending it flying parallel to the net.
Bowen was ready, arm arcing to slam the ball down, but a blocker for the Comets shifted just in time to receive, putting the ball high into the air.
It gave Julian Tate, Kieran’s least favorite setter now, the chance to put the ball up in just the right spot.
One of their spikers sent it careening down along the sideline, and it smacked against the floorboards just inside the back corner before Kieran or any of his teammates had a chance to react.
He clenched his jaw. Tate had been a thorn in their sides—particularly Atticus’—for the entire game.
The guy hardly seemed to break a sweat, his sets were a work of art, and his serves?
Kieran had gotten under one in the first set, and fuck.
He could still feel a phantom of the pain, the horrendous sting of the ball smacking off his forearms.
Another serve, another point to the Comets, this time from a joust between Atticus and Julian.
Kieran knew they were friends off the court, sort of, but when the ball bounced off the floor at Atticus’ feet and enough expletives left his mouth to earn a warning from a ref, Kieran wondered if that friendship would make it through the day.
Especially when Julian threw a wink in their direction that had Kieran holding Atticus back.
“You were supposed to work with Ori, help him on the new team, now he’s on the bench while you fuck around out here you sonofa—”
Kieran slapped a hand over Atticus’ mouth, cutting off his shout. He half expected to get bit, but Atticus shrugged him off.
“I’m good.” He walked back to his place on the court, rolling his shoulders.
“Don’t let him get to you,” Kieran muttered, but his setter’s words had been heard by the whole team.
It wasn’t the first time that evening that discontent over their former teammate’s place on the bench had affected their morale.
Kieran had hoped to see the smiling redhead on the court.
They all missed Ori, even if his absence hadn’t made much of a difference in whether or not they won.
Kieran had been clinging to the hope that a new team, a new setting, were what the guy needed, but that didn’t seem to be the case.
And judging by the frown that Kieran could see from half a court away, Ori himself didn’t seem particularly happy to be a point of contention between the players.
He was frowning, elbows braced on his knees, hands clasped tight together under his chin, eyes narrowed as they flicked back and forth across the net.
Now wasn’t the time to get distracted by team politics. Drama. They needed to leave all of that on the sidelines.
“Focus up!” Kieran shouted, clapping his hands together three times. His guys fell into line, slipping into ready stances. “We’re not letting them through this time!”
Kai was gripping Sammie’s arm like his life depended on it, his nails digging crescents into her skin. It was fine, because she had a hand on his knee doing exactly the same.
The score was tied at seventeen. The set was going long, and neither team was giving an inch. The Cats needed to win by two points, but every time they scored, Los Angeles was right there to tie it up again.
Atticus faked a set, playing like he would send the ball to Kieran, only to dump it at the last second. Kai flew up out of his seat, Sammie right behind him. Their shouts were drowned out by the hollering that went up around them as the Cats took the lead once more.
“Fuck.” Kai looked pale. “Shit. If they don’t score here I’m going to pass out.”
Sammie knew how he felt. The back and forth, the carrot of a win dangled before them over and over, it was exhausting. One more point. They only needed one more point.
“Breathe!” Coach Rodriguez was screaming from the sidelines. “Stay calm and breathe!”
Easier said than done. Sammie wasn’t even playing and every breath felt like knives in her lungs. She was sweating just from watching the game.
The next few seconds went by too fast and the play whistle came too soon, before anyone had enough time to gather themselves. Atticus was up to serve. He searched behind the Cats’ bench, finding Sammie, then Kai, the same as he always did.
Then the ball was up, and her brother was soaring forward. Sammie held her own breath as his serve rocketed over the net, wincing when Los Angeles had no trouble receiving it.
Neither she nor Kai took the time to return to their seats, too afraid to look away, to blink, to miss something important.
Both teams were fighting tooth and nail, volleying the ball back and forth, scrambling to stay under it. Five sets, yet no one on that court showed a hint of exhaustion.
Because this was it. This was the game they’d been playing toward all season.
Both teams had fought, both teams had won, and now they were vying for the same thing.
A final point that would make every bad moment, all of the exhaustion and pain, all of the long practices and the hard workouts, every moment of the season worth it.
The noise of the crowd surrounding her crescendoed as a spike from a Comets player almost cost the Cats their hard won lead.
But Eric was there once more, throwing himself at the floor with zero hesitation, putting the ball high into the air.
It wasn’t the first time he had saved the game for his team, and Sammie figured he had a good shot at being named MVP.
The ball was up, flying high, arcing slowly back down. It gave the Cats a chance to take the breath they so desperately needed, but it also gave the Comets time to ready themselves for the block.
Sammie saw it all play out like a premonition. Atticus would set the ball, but blockers were on Bowen and Kieran both. Locked in, a wall at the ready, and Sammie couldn’t see a way for the guys to get around it.
Nevertheless, both spikers were running at the net, Bowen two steps ahead.
Kai was clinging to Sammie as though his life depended on it, shaking like a leaf in the wind.
Or maybe it was Sammie that was shaking.
Watching a ball get bounced back and forth over a net wasn’t exactly life or death, but it sure as fuck felt like it.
Atticus planted his feet. He was ready as the ball fell toward him, arms up, fingers splayed just so. Then it was flying from his hands, arcing alongside the net. Bowen jumped, faking a spike that his blockers fell for.
Sammie couldn’t hear herself as she cried out, as the ball curved down toward Kieran’s waiting palm.
Another blocker alongside Tate, the setter, were both there, both ready.
Kieran’s body was in the air, flying toward the net, his feet leaving the floor a moment after theirs.
As the blockers reached the crest of their jump, Kieran was still a heartbeat away from the ball.
As they fell back toward the floor, Kieran shifted his aim, making contact with the volleyball. It cut between the two players and the net.
Sammie screamed as it smacked down in the opening between both sets of blockers.
Kai was saying something, his face a mask of shock. Sammie couldn’t make out his words, but it didn’t matter. She pulled him into a hug, crushing his smaller frame to her.
They’d done it.
The Chicago Cats had won the championship.
Sammie had never felt more proud of her brother. Of the team she’d come to love like they were her own.
She began to sink back into her seat, wrung out from too many big emotions, but Kai was tugging her arm.
“Come on!” he shouted over the din of the crowd.
Sammie let herself be tugged out of their row and onto the stairs, through the throngs of people still cheering.
Kai pushed through people already trying to make hasty exits, leading Sammie toward the court.
“We can’t go down there!” she shouted. Security was already fighting off fans who’d tried to storm the court.
“We’re family,” Kai shouted back at her.
Surprisingly, Ivy was waiting at the bottom of the steps. “They’re with me,” she told the security guard, flashing her badge. The man just nodded, swinging open the gate to let Sammie and Kai through.
Then they were on the court, and players were there. Atticus was there, ripping Kai away from her, lifting him into the air in a brutal hug. Kai had his face buried in Atticus’ neck, and both of them were laughing, tears spilling onto their cheeks.
Hands closed around Sammie’s wrists. Bowen on one side, Aaron on the other. Eric was behind her, pushing as the other two tugged her toward where the rest of their team was gathering to accept the trophy.
Sammie dug her heels into the court. There were cameras everywhere, lights flashing all around her.
“What the fuck, guys?”
The trophy was big and gold, shiny and bright, but it couldn’t compare to the woman being… well, dragged toward him.
Sammie was swatting at the three players hauling her toward the cameras, spewing profanity like it was her sworn duty.
Kieran’s plan wasn’t going to work if his teammates pissed her off first.
So he did what any good captain would do. He met them as they approached, put a hand to Bowen’s face, then Aaron’s, and shoved them away.
Then he pulled Sammie into a hug, wrapping his arms tight around her shoulders and promising himself he’d never let go of her again.
“Kieran,” she said. She sounded as winded as he felt, his name muffled as he held her close. “What is going on?”
This had all seemed a lot less scary when he’d let it play out in his head from the safety of his hotel room.
“I just need a second,” he said. His face was still buried in her neck, his arms clinging on to her like his life depended on the next few moments. “I’ve never done this before. I… I’ve never felt like this before.”
Sammie shoved against his chest, trying to push him away, to look at him, but Kieran only held on tighter. “Please,” he begged. His heart was slamming against his ribs, and he couldn’t really feel his fingertips anymore. Kieran had never been so nervous, so scared. “Please, just give me a second.”
So Sammie did. Kieran felt her relax in his grip, felt her arms weave around him, felt her squeeze him back. Finally.
“I’ve never felt like this before,” he repeated into the crook of her neck.
He closed his eyes, shutting out the crowd, shutting out his teammates, his coach, and the gathering reporters.
“You were my friend, Sammie. You always have been. And maybe that’s what I always needed, maybe that was the key all along.
Because somewhere along the way, that friendship turned into something I didn’t see coming.
Something I didn’t recognize, because you’re the only person I’ve ever been this scared to lose. ”
He needed to pull away, needed to say it to her face, but terror continued to grip him, and speaking the words into her neck felt far safer.
“I love you, Sammie.” She froze in his arms, and Kieran couldn’t see her face to read what it meant. Somehow, that was far more terrifying than saying the words out loud.
Kieran pulled back, gripping her shoulders, and looked Sammie in the eye.
She wasn’t smiling. She wasn’t frowning, either.
Shock had parted her lips, her heavy-lidded gaze blown wide.
Pink tinted her cheeks, and Kieran didn’t know if it was from the game, from the crowd, or from the words he’d just said, but it didn’t matter.
“I love you, Sammie.” This time he watched the words land, watched them settle into place. It was time, finally. “Can I kiss you?”
Time to break her rule.