Roxy raises her glass again. “Then get under his. Beat him at his own game.”
I bite my lip and stare at the ceiling for a long beat, Finlay’s voice echoing in my head.Nova, it was good to see you. Although I didn’t think I’d see quite so much.
Arrogant, cocky, infuriating bastard.
“If he’s going to keep watching me,” I murmur, more to myself than them, “maybe it’s time I start watching him.”
Delaney grins. “You’re going to his next game?”
I shrug, but the fire’s already flickering in my chest. “Maybe.”
Roxy’s already pulling up the game schedule. “Guess we’ve got Sunday plans.”
CHAPTER 6
FINLAY
It’s game day. The stadium is vibrating with noise, fans roaring from every level of the stands, and the pounding bass of“I’m a Beast” by T. Powellechoes through Empire Stadium like a battle cry.
We’re all pumped, all laser-focused. My heart is pounding so hard I feel it in my fingertips. Nothing else matters in these moments. Not the press. Not the noise. Not even her.
This is about the team. The win. The pride.
Coach paces in front of us like a general before war, his voice sharp and commanding. “No fuck-ups tonight! Last season, we lost to the Portland Settlers. That will not happen again. You hear me?”
“We hear you, Coach!” Jace yells, already bouncing on the balls of his feet. He’s got his game face on, cocky as hell, just the way we need him. Tank lets out a growl beside him, and Knox pounds his chest with that unshakable calm that always unnerves opponents.
I roll my neck slowly, stretching out the tension, centering my focus.
“You ready?” Theo asks, slapping my shoulder pads with a grin that says he’s already mentally dancing in the end zone.
“Always,” I tell him.
We line up in the tunnel, waiting. The lights dim, and the intro hits, the moment every athlete lives for. The anticipation. The adrenaline. The undeniable rush of knowing you're about to step into battle in front of tens of thousands of screaming fans.
This is the high. The purest, cleanest drug I’ve ever tasted.
And then we run.
Bursts of smoke shoot up around us, lights flash, and the crowd explodes as we burst onto the field like lightning. My cleats dig into the turf, and the energy hits me like a damn freight train. I look up at the massive banner draped across the stands that reads,Protect the Empire, and I swear I feel that empire in my bones.
The first snap comes quick. The Settlers’ defense is good, tight coverage, fast reads, but I’m sharper. My first throw hits Theo mid-stride, and he rockets down the field for a gain of fifteen. The crowd erupts. We’re rolling.
Each throw is fluid, calculated, and perfect. The ball leaves my hand and lands exactly where I want it. Over the shoulder, low in the pocket, across the middle where only my guy can catch it. I’m not just playing the game. I am the game tonight.
We score the first touchdown on a quick handoff to Knox, who barrels through a defender like he’s made of concrete. The crowd goes wild. I lift my arms to the sky, heart pounding like a war drum.
Every touchdown is another boost to my pride. Another notch in my confidence. Another reminder to every damn person watching, especially her, that I’m not just the high school quarterback she shut down.
I’m Finlay Reed, and I own this field.
By halftime, we’re up by ten. Sweat’s dripping down my back, and my lungs are working overtime, but I feel unstoppable. Like every decision I make tonight is the right one. Like every throw is laced with precision and power.
We come out of halftime with fire in our veins. The Settlers are down, and they are coming out determined. They know we’ve got the momentum, and they’re scrambling to steal it back.
I line up behind center, eyes scanning the defense, reading their setup.
I grab the snap and drop back, ready to launch the ball downfield, and that’s when I see Nova.
