Chapter sixty-five
Rory
There’s a different kind of energy on championship day.
It starts before you even get there, sitting just under your skin, a low, steady buzz that builds with every mile closer to the ground, every message from the lads, every reminder of what’s at stake, and usually I lean into it, let it take over, let it sharpen everything until there’s nothing else in my head but the game.
But today it’s… different. Because for the first time, it’s not just about what’s happening on the pitch. It’s about who’s watching.
I pull into the car park and sit there for a second, hands still on the wheel, the stadium already alive around me, people moving in every direction, voices everywhere, that familiar hum of anticipation that always settles into my bones.
And underneath all of that I’m thinking about Freya.
About her being here with Theo and Isla.
About the fact that this isn’t just my world anymore.
It’s ours. That thought settles in properly as I grab my bag and step out of the car, the noise hitting me fully now, louder, sharper, the kind of atmosphere that usually flips a switch in me.
And it still does. Just not in the same way.
Inside, the lads are already filtering through, music blaring, someone shouting about something, the usual chaos, but there’s an extra edge to it today, something tighter, more focused.
“Here he is,” Noah calls as I walk in. “Thought you’d bottled it.”
“Yeah, that’s exactly what I’ve done,” I mutter, dropping my bag onto the bench.
Scott looks up from where he’s taping his wrists, a smirk already in place. “You look suspiciously chipper for someone about to play the biggest game of the season.”
“Shut up.”
“Where are they?” Noah asks, appearing beside me.
“Who?”
“Don’t be thick.”
I huff a quiet laugh. “They’ll be here soon.”
That earns me a look. “You’re gone,” he says, shaking his head. “Proper gone.”
I don’t even argue. Because fuck, I am.
By the time I head up toward the supporters’ area before warm-up, the place is already packed, the stands filling quickly, noise building in waves, that electric kind of atmosphere that makes everything feel bigger, louder, more intense.
And then I spot them. Freya is standing slightly to one side, her hair falling loosely over her shoulders, one hand holding Theo’s, the other resting lightly on Isla’s back like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Hannah is beside her, talking animatedly, probably already giving her commentary on everything she can see.
And for a second Everything else fades. I don’t even realise I’ve stopped walking until Noah bumps into my shoulder.
“Mate.”
“Yeah,” I mutter, already moving again.
I make my way over, the noise of the crowd fading slightly into the background as I get closer, my focus narrowing until it’s just them.
“Hey,” I say, stepping in close.
“Hey,” she replies, her voice softer than the noise around us.
I don’t overthink it. I don’t hesitate. I lean in and kiss her.
And for a split second I’m aware of everything else around us; the crowd, the noise, the fact that this is the first time I’ve done that here, in my world, in front of people who know me.
But it doesn’t matter. Because she kisses me back just as easily.
Just as naturally. And when I pull back, Hannah is staring at us like she’s just been handed the best piece of gossip of her life.
“Oh my God,” she says immediately. “We can finally talk about this.”
Freya laughs, a little breathless. “Hannah…”
“No, absolutely not,” she cuts in. “Do you know how hard it has been not to say anything while watching this unfold?”
I huff a quiet laugh. “You’ve managed.”
“Barely.”
She looks between us, eyes lighting up. “This is happening, then? Like… properly happening?”
Freya glances at me briefly before answering. “Yeah.”
Hannah claps her hands once. “I knew it.”
“Of course you did,” Freya mutters.
Theo appears at my side then, looking up at me with a grin. “Are you nervous?” he asks.
“Always.”
“You don’t look it.”
“That’s because I’m very good at pretending.”
Isla tugs at my hand. “You have to win,” she says seriously.
“Bit of pressure there, bug.”
“You will win.”
I smile. “Alright.”
Scott appears a second later, already halfway through a conversation with someone behind him.
“Oi,” he says, clapping my shoulder. “There you are.”
His eyes flick to Freya, then back to me, then to Hannah, and that smirk settles straight back into place.
“Right,” he says. “So this is her.”
Freya raises an eyebrow. “This is me.”
He grins. “I’m Scott.” He holds out a hand to Freya.
“We’ve met before, Scott.”
“We have?” He looks equal parts confused and worried as the man whore racks his brain trying to figure out if he’s had any sexual encounters with Freya. It’s quite amusing to watch.
“At The Oakwood Primary school fair.” She smiles sweetly. “You hit on me by the mulled wine.” She teases.
“Badly.” Hannah adds with a smirk.
Scott laughs, his face turning slightly pink. “I like her.”
“Good,” I mutter. “Because she’s not going anywhere.”
His expression shifts slightly at that, something approving passing through it before he nods toward the small boy beside him.
“This is Elliot,” he says. “My son.”
The boy looks up, shy but curious. Theo immediately steps forward.
“Do you like football?”
“Yeah.”
“Come on then.”
Just like that, Theo, Isla, and Elliot disappear into their own little world, already running ahead, their voices blending into the noise around us. Scott watches them for a second, then glances back at Hannah.
“You always this opinionated or just when you’re watching rugby?” he asks casually.
Hannah folds her arms. “Only when I’m surrounded by overpaid men throwing themselves at each other.”
Scott grins. “You’re going to love me then.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Doubtful.”
“Give it time.”
Freya leans slightly into me, her shoulder brushing mine. “This is… a lot,” she says quietly.
I glance down at her. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” she nods, looking out over the pitch, the crowd building, the noise rising. “Just… this is your world.”
“It is.”
She looks back at me. “And now I’m in it.”
I don’t hesitate. “Yeah,” I say. “You are.”
The announcer’s voice cuts through the stadium, the crowd responding instantly, the energy shifting up another level. It’s time. I glance down at her one more time, then at the kids in the distance, then back at her.
“I’ll see you after,” I say.
“You better,” she replies.
I lean in, pressing a quick kiss to her lips again.
Then I turn and head back toward the tunnel.
The noise builds. The lights feel brighter.
Everything sharpens. But this time, as I step out onto that pitch, it’s not just about the game.
It’s about who’s watching. And for the first time… That feels like everything.