“They’re going to win,” Carsen says confidently.
Katie shakes her head. “This game is way too close.”
We collectively gasp when Corey gets a hard tackle that has him down for a long minute, and release a collective breath when Palmer pulls him to his feet.
I never thought I’d be so invested, not just with Nolan, but with the others, as well.
They line up again, and from the sidelines, Peters yells and screams, throwing something that has the commentators discussing his sometimes militant approach. The mild reprimand is quickly excused with Camden’s record over the past several years.
Hudson passes the ball to Palmer. Peters screams, flapping his arms and losing a crutch in the process, revealing they’re not playing his game. Watching Palmer sprint, I realize why Nolan had so much confidence for him to win the cookie run. He’s fast, comically fast. I expect him to run the ball down the entirety of the field, but he comes to an abrupt stop and passes it down the field to Nolan who scores a touchdown with two seconds to spare.
Chapter29
Nolan
Exhaustion follows me onto the plane.
When we travel for games, we arrive a day early, sometimes two, but we always fly home after the game.
Hudson collapses into the empty seat across from me, next to Grey.
I twist off the cap of the sports drink that was handed to me upon boarding and down half of it in one gulp.
Coach Krueger drops into the seat beside me. The coaching staff never sits in the back with us, they always remain upfront.
“That was a big risk.” I’m not sure who he’s directing the comment to, maybe all of us.
Hudson shrugs. “You can’t have great wins without great risks, right?” It’s a line Evelyn uses.
“You guys haven’t even practiced that play,” Krueger points out.
“It was the right call,” I tell him.
His smile is faint, barely perceptible as he passes me his phone. It’s a headline, talking about our game and how there are now only four undefeated teams in the league. The first paragraph highlights our final play, calling us unmatched and a guaranteed favorite pick to win this year.
It feels as though a veil of protection has just been thrown over our shoulders, reminding me of Hadley’s suggestion to defy Peters and allow our skills to prove to Peters and others that we could do more than run his same tired and recycled plays.
Krueger takes his phone and returns to the front with the other coaches without another word.
When I make it home, it’s past midnight. Hadley and Hannah are in the kitchen. Hadley’s washing dishes while Hannah sits across from her, jotting something in a notebook as she nods. Their conversation ceases as I step into the house. Hannah closes the notebook, clutching it to her chest as they look at me with matching conspiratorial expressions.
“Hey,” Hadley calls, smiling. Her voice is warm and welcoming, sending heat, desire, and comfort through me with the single word. Her gaze connects with mine, expressing the same level of anticipation and relief I feel every time she’s near.
“What are you two planning?” I ask, dropping my duffel bag beside the door to take down to the basement.
“World domination,” Hadley says.
Hannah chuckles as she gets to her feet. “I’m heading to bed. Nice game tonight, Nolan. Carsen was a little worried, but the rest of us knew you guys were going to pull off the win.”
I smirk, ready to admit I wasn’t.
Hannah passes me and heads for the stairs while Hadley rinses the pot she’d been washing and sets it on a towel to dry. Her hair is up, and the small gold rings in her ears gleam in the kitchen lights.
My exhaustion is forgotten, replaced by my desire to hear about her days since she’s been gone. Hear her laugh and earn that smile I crave as much as my own breath. I swallow the distance between us in two steps and set my hands on her waist, taking in the faint scents of chocolate mingling with the scent of her shampoo and perfume that has blood whooshing through my body. “God, you smell good. What have you been cooking?” I press a kiss just below her ear to hear the near-silent gasp I knew she’d make.
“We made brownies.” She points at a plate of brownies near the microwave. “Are you hungry?”
“Mmmm,” I say, kissing her jaw. “But not for brownies.”