I wait, every second stretching out. Her whispered “I love you” still hanging in the air, but what does it mean? The ambiguity of it all leaves me in turmoil. Did she mean to get back together? Was it a response to my own vulnerable admission? Does she actually intend to keep me a secret?
My mind drifts back to my return from Switzerland. I was filled with restless energy, a need to see her, to be near her. But when I caught a glimpse of her at the bus stop by the pizza place, lost in her thoughts and visibly hurting, I stayed in my car. Seeing her from afar was enough, at least for a while. But it wasn’t right. Something was missing in my life. It felt like I couldn’t breathe quite right, and the nights were even worse. I could feel her, smell her, and the few hours I managed to sleep were filled with nightmares of me losing her over and over again.
Then, it was time to get back into a routine, and still, I wasn’t functioning right. During practice, my reflexes were slow and my shots off target. Every time the ball came my way, my vision blurred, and my legs felt like lead to the point that Coach had stopped shouting at me and was wondering if I needed medical attention.
One evening, the door to my room swung open abruptly. Cole and Liam stood there, their expressions a mix of concern and determination. “Intervention time,” they declared, bursting into my room. Their sudden appearance jolted me from my thoughts.
Cole leaned in, his voice low. “You think giving her space is helping? Look at yourself, man.”
Liam shot Cole a disapproving look. “I don’t like your methods, but Nessa’s been talking. Poppy’s not doing any better.”
Cole gave him a side look, and I knew that we would have to approach this Nessa subject soon enough.
Cole threw a set of keys on the bed. “The keys to her place,” is all he said.
It was Liam’s turn to throw him a wary look. “Cole…” he all but sighed.
Cole shrugged. “You and lover boy have your ways; I have mine.” He pointed at the keys on my bed. “You love her? Make her listen.”
Desperation and sleepless nights had worn me thin. Cole’s words, though rash, held a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, it was worth the risk, and contrary to all I thought, it worked. It was terrifying to bare my soul this way, to admit my vulnerabilities, and even if she only reciprocated in half words, it was enough for now.
I had slipped out early this morning, leaving her wrapped in the sheets of our shared warmth. But I couldn’t leave without a gesture, a hope. I grabbed the jersey with my number and left it on the bed with a note asking her to come to the game and wear my jersey if she felt like it. It’s a bit cliché, I admit, but the thought of her draped in my colors, my name emblazoned on her back, is too enticing.
“How are we feeling today?” Coach asks, trying to sound nonchalant, his eyes focused on the other side of the field where our ultimate rivals, the Kings of Miltown, are performing their stretching.
I stretch, feeling the pull of my muscles. “I’m ready, Coach. Number ten won’t let you down.”
He looks down at me for a second, mutters something under his breath about players’ hormones, and walks back to talk to his assistant coach.
I turn toward the guys who are stretching a few steps from me now, and they give me knowing smiles.
It’s the last game of the season before the playoffs in Vegas. I hope she will come with me.
The energy in the stadium is electric. Every shout, every cheer, it’s like a pulse driving me forward. The grass beneath my cleats feels familiar, grounding me. The opposing team is fierce, their determination evident in their aggressive plays and shouts. But there’s a distraction: Poppy. She’s in the stands, wearing my jersey. It’s not merely a piece of fabric; it’s a statement. And it fuels me.
We’re nearing the end, and the tension’s thick. The ball finds its way to me, and for a split second, everything slows down. The goal’s in sight, the challenge clear. I take the shot, and it’s like the world erupts. The crowd’s roar is deafening, but amid the chaos, there’s clarity. I need to get to her.
Breaking from the team’s ecstatic huddle, I make a beeline for her. She’s radiant, eyes shining with pride and something deeper.
I spread my arms wide, an unspoken invitation. There’s a heartbeat where time seems to stop, and then she’s rushing toward me. The world blurs as she leaps into my arms, her legs wrapped around my waist. Despite the exhaustion and sore muscles, I tighten my hold around her, lifting her off the ground.
“You were incredible,” she breathes, her face inches from mine, her breath warm against my lips. She pulls back, her nose wrinkling in playful distaste. “But you’re all sweaty and smelly.”
“All because of you,” I reply, nodding to my jersey she’s wearing. The scent of her, mixed with the earthy aroma of the field, is intoxicating. “Seeing you in that gave me an edge.” I raise an eyebrow, teasing her. “Last I checked, you kind of liked me sweaty.”
She blushes, her eyes darting to my lips before meeting my gaze again. Without another word, she leans in and kisses me, soft and sweet yet filled with a passion that speaks of longing and reunion. The world fades away, and it’s only the two of us.
She wrinkles her nose playfully. “Clean up, superstar. I’ll be here when you’re done.”
I brush a strand of hair behind her ear. “Gamma’s throwing a party to celebrate the win. Think you’d like to join?”
Her eyes light up. “Of course.”
I can’t help but beam at her response. “Great! I’ll be quick,” I promise, already eager to rejoin her side. As I head toward the locker room, I hear my teammates still chanting in victory, their voices echoing my own joy.
In the dim locker room, with steam rising from the showers and the scent of sweat and antiseptic in the air, Cole’s voice cuts through. “She’s wearing your jersey,” he remarks, smirking as we towel dry after our showers.
I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face, but I choose not to indulge him with a response.
Cole drapes a towel around his neck, a smirk playing on his lips. “So my method works.”
I roll my eyes, shaking my head, but my grin betrays me, revealing how right he might be.
“Yo, Ashford!” Cole calls out to Liam, who’s already dressed and deep in conversation with Peters.
Liam glances our way, a puzzled expression on his face, clearly unaware of our previous discussion.
Cole, ever the dramatic, points to his bare chest, puffing it out with pride. “I’m a fucking Casanova!” he shouts, ensuring everyone in the vicinity hears him. Liam raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “I fixed him and Curly! I’m a fucking Casanova.”
Liam chuckles, shaking his head. “You played matchmaker, Cole. That’s more Cyrano than Casanova.”
Cole looks momentarily confused, but then shrugs it off, too pleased with himself to care about the distinction.
“To be fair, you’re both,” I add as Cole reaches for the Henley in his locker.
I frown at the unfamiliar tattoo on his rib cage. Among his collection of ink, this one stands out. It’s still red, slightly raised, and looks fresh compared to the others.
“New tattoo?” I ask, pointing to the vivid design.
He glances down, and I spot a brief shadow crossing his face, though he maintains his signature grin. “A drunken mistake,” he replies, his voice carrying some regret as he quickly pulls on his shirt. But the design seems too detailed, too personal to be a mere drunken decision. It depicts a beautifully detailed violin from which musical notes flow, constructing a bridge. Beneath it, the words “Angel’s memories” are etched in an elegant script.
I sense there’s a deeper story behind it, but I also know him well enough to understand when not to push. Besides, my focus is outside, where she awaits. I need to cherish every moment with her while I can.
I quickly finish dressing, my thoughts already on Poppy. Leaving the locker room, I jog to the exit, and I spot her waiting by my car. She looks up, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “My friends will be waiting for us at the Gamma party,” she says, her voice tender and inviting. “But I thought I could use a little alone time with the star athlete first.”
I don’t wait, don’t think. In two strides, I’m there, pressing her against the cool metal of my car, the soft glow of streetlights casting shadows around us. I lean down, capturing her lips with mine. The world fades away, and it’s just the two of us. When we finally break apart, both breathless, I give her a playful smirk, brushing her cheek with the back of my hand.
“Ready to go?”
She nods, still a bit dazed from the kiss. “Always.”
We make our way to the car. The night is young, and whatever it holds, we’ll face it together.
The roar of the crowd from the game still echoes in my ears, mingling with the distant thump of music as I guide Poppy toward the after-party. I’ve never been one for raucous celebrations, but tonight, the air feels different, alive with energy.
Behind us, her friends, Nessa and Eva, keep up a lively banter. Their laughter and chatter are infectious, adding to the night’s exhilaration. As we step into the Gamma house, the atmosphere envelops us—a cacophony of laughter, the thumping beat of music, and the unmistakable buzz of victory. Holding Poppy’s hand, I feel invincible. What more could I want?
Commitment, a voice in my head whispers as Cole and Liam ambush us.
Liam steps forward, a mock-serious expression on his face. “Poppy Donovan, now that you’re with our boy, we’ve got some ground rules to discuss.”
My heart stalls. I’m ready to defend her from their teasing, but she surprises me with her response.
She turns toward me with a bright smile. “It’s only fair. Now that I’m his girl, you need to make sure I’m in the loop with the rules,” she teases.
Cole grins, bumping my shoulder. “See? She gets it.”
The way she referred to herself as “my girl” sends my heart racing. I have half a mind to put her over my shoulder and carry her into an empty room to make love to her for hours.
Cole winks at Poppy. “Now that you’re with Ethan, know he’s not a morning person. A… special wake-up call might be in order.”
She blushes, playfully swatting Cole. “I’ll remember that.”
I clench my fists, shooting Cole the deadliest glare I can muster, which he ignores completely. I guess she needs to get used to Cole’s crude ways because I intend to have her around as much as possible.
Poppy gestures to Nessa and Eva, her tone playful. “But if I’m getting the third degree, shouldn’t my girls have a word with you two?”
Cole smirks, his gaze lingering on Eva. “That sounds like a challenge I’m up for.”
Eva flips him off, and he laughs.
Liam flashes a series of hand signs, and Nessa’s face lights up in response. I’m left wondering what secret language they’ve got going on.
Peters, his voice slurred from the drinks, gets in my face. “Man, that goal! Legendary! Makes me wanna give you a big, sloppy kiss.”
I laugh, pushing Peters away. “Too slow, buddy. I’m off the market.”
“For real?”
“For real,” Poppy replies, wrapping herself around me.
Peters looks down at her with a frown, and I’m about to tell him to chill the fuck out when he grins. “Dude, that’s dope! So many more girls for me!”
She giggles, and I wrap my arm around her, keeping her against my chest. I want to hear her laugh all the time.
Cole leans in, whispering conspiratorially to Poppy, “Rule number one, Donovan, if you spend the night, you’re on breakfast duty.”
She leans into me and tilts her head, feigning surprise. “Oh, is that in the official rule book?”
“Uh-huh, and you may have to cook us dinner as well.”
I slap him on the back of the head. “You do your own cooking, lazy ass.” I look down at my beautiful girl and run my finger along her jawline. She looks up, and I brush my lips against hers. Cole and Liam groan and disappear into the crowd.
I turn to Eva and Nessa, my voice playful. “Mind if I steal her for the night?”
Nessa gives Poppy a knowing look. “Seeing how she looks at you? It’s not only recommended, it’s essential.”
I draw her into a dance, holding her tight. I know I’m not in rhythm. We are slow dancing to something that is not fitting, but I don’t care; I want to keep her in my arms. I can feel the heat of her body, the rhythm of her heartbeat. Every touch, every glance sparks with intensity.
She wraps her arms around my neck. “It’s not going to work like that, you know.”
My breath catches, and for a split second, everything seems to freeze. I pull her close, our foreheads touching. “Poppy, I’m not letting you slip away.”
She bites her lip, hesitating. “I hope so. Especially since James’s birthday is next weekend. Mom’s planning a party at the house… the one you bought for us.” Her eyes search mine with gratitude and a shred of reproach.
I want to look sheepish, but I’m not, not even a little. I shrug. “Real estate is a good investment; everyone knows that.”
“Yes, when it’s bought in your name!”
You and I will share a name in the future; trust me on that, beautiful. I shrug again.
“Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me.” I kiss her before she can say anything else. “What were you saying for James’s birthday? Do you need me to pull some magic?”
Her smile is sweet and so loving that my heart aches. “No, I want you to come with me. You are not my dirty little secret, Ethan Hawthorne. You are my boyfriend.”
A lump forms in my throat, and I blink rapidly, fighting the unexpected surge of emotion. I lean down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, letting the simple gesture convey what words can’t. “It would be my absolute honor, Poppy Donovan.”
“Do we have to stay here?” she asks, her eyes hinting at other intentions. She bites her lip, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper. “How about we head to your place? I remember a certain… skill you have that I’d like to revisit.”
Heat surges through me, my pulse racing, making it hard to keep my voice steady. “You don’t have to ask twice.” I get us out of the house at full speed, trailing a giggling Poppy behind me.
My laughter intertwines with hers, my chest heaving, emotions swirling—from joy to relief to anticipation.
As we leave, the night frigid against our heated skin, I can’t help but think that with Poppy by my side, every moment feels like a victory. The future, with all its uncertainties, seems brighter, filled with endless possibilities.
