“YES! Let’s fucking go!” My mask slipped, and I couldn’t suppress the smile curling the corners of my mouth any longer. The adrenaline still coursing through my body made the thrill of this victory even sweeter.
After the game, the coaches gathered everyone in a loose half-circle near the benches. Sweat still clung to my neck, my pulse not quite settled, but I kept my chin up, hands on my hips, trying not to fidget.
They moved down the line, offering quick feedback to each girl. When they got to me, one of the coaches flipped a page on her clipboard and gave me a look that made my stomach clench.
“You’ve got the physical tools,” she said, tapping her pen against the edge of her notes. “Now we just need to see that consistency. Keep doing this, and you’ll have a shot at the next level.”
Holy fucking shit.
I felt the breath leave my lungs like I’d taken a hit straight to the chest — in the best possible way.
Someone behind me smacked my shoulder, and a couple of the girls gave me high-fives as they moved past, murmuring things like, “That was clutch,” and “You earned that.”
Teagan Clarke stepped in front of me, twisting the cap off her water bottle. She lifted her chin, her eyes sharp but not unfriendly.
“Nice hit,” she said, nodding once. “You’ve got some serious power.”
A surprised laugh slipped out of me before I could stop it.
“Thanks,” I said, my breath catching at the edges of my words.
Another smile threatened to curl my lips as I turned away, grounding myself with a deep inhale. I hadn’t just survived out there — I’d earned something. Respect, maybe. A foot in the door.
Teagan’s words echoed in my head, softer than they were spoken but carrying more weight than they probably should have.
I’d always loved my public relations major and how it allowed me to be both strategic and creative. But this? This was the dream, the one I’d quietly tucked away under the label of too far-fetched.
Playing professionally had always felt out of reach. Something for someone taller, stronger, or just … more.
But not today.
The warm flicker in my chest wasn’t just pride; it was possibility. Real, tangible possibility. For the first time, it didn’t feel so far off. For the first time, I could actually see it.
I loved proving people wrong, showing them I was more than some girly blonde, that I had substance. But this wasn’t about them anymore.
This was about me — and I wasn’t done yet. Not even close.
Twenty Three
Dom
Fucking Orlando.Never thought I’d have beef with that place, but here we were. It wasn’t really the city’s fault — it was just the easiest thing to blame.
Because I didn’t have a single solid reason to drive all the way down there, just to be near my girl. And something had to take the hit for that. So, Or-fucking-lando it was.
Sierra had been gone for pretty much all of August, and yeah, I was proud of her — stoked, even — for all the insane opportunities she landed.
But the unhinged, low-key obsessed part of me? That part was losing its fucking mind. I’d nearly jumped in my truck more times than I could count, just to maybe catch a glimpse of her.
Which, yeah… probablywasn’tnormal. Or remotely healthy.
Good thing I didn’t give a flying fuck about either of those things.
If I hadn’t been halfway buried in my own training and team crap — with football season about to kick off any day now — I probably would’ve cracked already.
It didn’t help that I had no clue when Sierra was coming back. She’dconvenientlydodged every message that even hinted at it. The semester was about to start in a couple of days, and Ella was playing gatekeeper like her life depended on it.
The only thing keeping me remotely sane was the texts. My sister had been mildly pissed I’d finessed Sierra’s number out of her phone, but she knew I’d have found a way one way or another.
