49. Jensen
49
JENSEN
NOVEMBER—THE CHAMPIONSHIP GAME
T he stadium is packed as fans in opposing jerseys stomp and cheer as the Tennessee Tornadoes take on the Virginia Vikings in the championship game. The atmosphere is pulsing with energy as both teams battle on the field. I’ve never seen anything like it, and I’m not afraid to admit it’s been like that every time I see Nessa play.
But this is the big one.
The last one.
And I’ve been on the edge of my seat since we got here.
But she’s in the zone, sexy as hell, and easily having her best game of the entire season. It’s bittersweet but I couldn’t be prouder of my girl.
Our girl.
Looking down at my daughter, I can’t help but smile. Her blonde hair is tied up in tiny pigtails and we’re wearing matching HART 15 jerseys. Our whole section is.
Because no one was willing to miss this game.
So we’d secured tickets for all of us—Montana, Ellison, Bodhi, Archer, Bea, Mason, Lana and her kids, my parents, Grandad and Celeste, Cal, and Miss Thelma—who’d given TSA an earful for bein’ handsy with a lady of her age. That last snippet had almost made us miss our flight.
But we’d made it. And so did the Blackstone University women’s club soccer team who’d received a large anonymous donation in the way of tickets for the game. They cheered behind us, faces painted and signs held high, yelling and cheering for Nessa and the rest of the Tornadoes.
We’d scored once in the first half, the ball gracing the top left corner of the net, just out of reach of the goalie. Nessa and the other defenders had kept the score at 1-0 with only minutes to spare.
My phone vibrates in my pocket and I take it out to see a text from Indie that I swipe open quickly.
INDIE: OMG did you see that?? She is dominating right now!
JENSEN: This is the best game of her life
INDIE: I bet it’ll get even better after it’s over
Smiling, I tuck my phone back into my pocket, as Nessa steals the ball and kicks it up the field to another player, who passes it to Kinsley who races toward the goal. Mama grips my arm, everyone cheering as Kinsley fakes to the left, maneuvering the ball behind her and rocketing it into the goal.
The crowd goes absolutely wild, the noise deafening, and I’m happy that Remi tolerates her headphones for this exact reason. Mason whistles at the end of the row, earning a couple of catcalls from the college girls. He winks and they giggle but he turns back around, his heart very much taken.
Nessa races up the field as Kinsley points at her, the two of them colliding as they jump and hug, their teammates gathering around them as the clock winds down to nothing.
They did it.
She did it.
And now, it’s showtime.
NESSA
We did it.
Everyone is screaming and crying and it’s everything I imagined. Coach Turner had planted the seed, Coach Arsenault helped it grow, but we’d worked our asses off to be here and I know they worked hard for me.
Tears flow freely down my face as I shake hands and hug the opposing team—it’d been like this after every game. These women I’d seen and played against for years had wished me well in the next chapter of my life, thanked me for the bar I’d set on the field and the example I’d made in the league.
I’d been humbled over and over by their kind words and encouragement. The only one who’d been notably absent after we played them had been Maria Cardova and honestly, that was fine. She’d gotten herself into enough hot water throughout the season to keep her quiet online as the championship approached.
Turning toward the crowd, I wave, my eyes landing on Jensen and Remi before my hands fly up to cover my face as the university’s soccer team waves their signs and cheers.
“Let’s give a round of applause for the coach of our champions, the Tennessee Tornadoes, Coach Arsenault!”
The stadium goes wild, as Stella Arsenault goes and stands behind the podium, her ponytail still miraculously in place despite the workout she gave it as she was stomping up and down the sidelines.
Kinsley wraps her arm around my shoulder, and I lean my head against hers as my arm wraps around her waist.
This is the last time you’ll be here together.
My hand fists her shirt as I sob into her shoulder, her arms coming around me as the finality of this day settles over me.
“Gotta listen, babe,” Kinsley whispers as I hear Coach Arsenault say my name over the microphone.
“It’s only right that Nessa Hart would start and end her career with a championship win.” The crowd erupts again, and without releasing Kinsley, I raise my other hand and wave. “It’s been an honor to watch Nessa dominate the field. She’s a role model, a woman who’s worked tirelessly behind the scenes to inspire athletes of all levels. And it is my distinct pleasure to announce Miss Nessa Hart as this year’s MVP!”
“Get your ass up there,” Kinsley squeals as she hugs me again. “I’m so damn proud of you.”
Jogging through the crowd on the field, I join Coach Arsenault on the stage and we do the obligatory turn and pose for photos.
“Say a few words,” she encourages and then laughs when I glare at her. She knows I already have a press conference after this where more smiling and tears will undoubtedly ensue.
“Thank you,” I start, my words choked, and I have to swallow hard before I’m ready to try again. “I’ll be making a formal statement after this, but I just want to say thank you to my coaches, teammates, and to all of you.” I wait as the fans cheer again, my smile impossibly big as I take them in. “It’s been my joy to play not just for the championship but in every match. This game has been the best part of me for a long time, but after some incredible life changes last year, I’ve found my priorities have changed. I cannot tell you how truly humbled I am by your love and support during my career. And like you, I can’t wait to cheer on the Tennessee Tornadoes when they go for the championship next year!”
I hug Coach Arsenault as the stadium vibrates around us, the raw energy and enthusiasm my favorite part of being on the field. It’s what always kept me going—what kept me going tonight.
I’m almost to the stairs when my steps falter.
“Nessa Hart.”
My name ricochets through the space as Jensen walks across the field with Remi in his arms, the club team trailing behind him.
“Who gave that man a mic?” I mutter, making Coach laugh as I take a steadying breath and start down the stairs.
“There’s a lot of things I could say,” Jensen says, his voice booming, “but I think I’ll stick with…” He trails off and drops to one knee with Remi holding his hand, and my girls flip over their signs as they scream.
Will you marry me!?
They wave their signs, the letters bright and bold for the crowd to see as I shake my head and jog the rest of the way over. Jensen’s smile grows and Remi reaches for me.
“Hey Trouble,” he says so only we can hear. “What do you think?”
“I think you could have been a bit more subtle,” I tease as I tickle Remi’s belly, making her giggle and squirm in my arms.
“ Say yes, say yes!”
“See? Even they want it,” he remarks as the crowd takes up the chant, and my face heats. “Be mine. Ours. Today and every day after.”
I nod and mouth yes because there’s no way anyone would be able to hear me over the riot of sound. Jensen slips the ring on my finger and then stands, kissing me almost indecently before we’re mobbed by the girls from the university and my teammates, Kinsley, and our friends and family.
It’s a chocolate cake with pink frosting.
And it’s everything.