Because it was the best kiss of my life.
“I don’t know,” she said, finally answering Frida’s question. “I think it’s going to depend on my mood when Saturday rolls around. And even if I go, I’ll probably hide in the stands instead of sitting in my box.”
Frida’s shoulders slumped.
“But you can still use Finn’s tickets. I’m sure Miriam would enjoy the company.” And getting her girlfriends only cheering section…
She shook her head softly. “I couldn’t.”
“You can.” Em reached out to grab her hand. “Really, I’ll be fine.”
“Em.”
“Who knows,” she said, trying to keep her tone light. “I may end up sitting down next to the field after all.”
It was highly unlikely, but possible.
“I’m sure Finn would like that.”
Finn.
Now that the two friends had tackled their friendship and what had happened with Grant, it was the only tough conversation left to have.
She sighed loudly.
“He’s really upset. He’s been asking me every day if I’ve talked to you. And every time I say no, he looks a little more broken.”
Em’s chest tightened. She hated that she’d hurt her brother. While she had every right to be upset, she found her irritation lessening every day. Now that she’d made up with Frida, it was practically nonexistent.
“I’ll talk to him tonight,” she said, her attention going back to the paper she’d been trying to grade for the last five minutes.
Frida let out a dramatic sigh. “I planned to spend some one-on-one time with him when I was done here.”
When Em’s head snapped up, Frida burst into loud laughter. “Oh my goodness. It’s going to be so fun messing with you.”
Em shook her head, but she was happy to see that even though Frida was dating her brother, that some things wouldn’t change.
Grant
Grant’s stomach twisted in knots as he got dressed in his game day kit with the rest of the team.
It had been hard watching the rest of the players practice without him for the last few weeks—harder to watch them play while he sat on the sidelines. Even though his ankle had fully recovered, everything felt a little off.
Bastian was too cheerful. Finn was too distant. And it seemed like everyone else was watching out of the corner of their eyes to see what would happen now that Grant was back.
He sat on the bench to tie his shoe and tried to ignore the simmering tension and get his head ready for the game when Cardosa plopped down beside him.
“How’s the ankle feeling?” he asked, jerking his head down at Grant’s foot.
People had been asking him that all week, and it was starting to get on his nerves. If he wasn’t ready to play, he wouldn’t be kitted out, would he?
“Good. As long as I don’t push it too hard tonight, I think it’ll be fine.”
Cardosa slapped his back. “We’re all glad you’re back.”
“Are you?”
Cardosa’s brows lowered. “Of course we are.”
He lifted his brows. “Even after my fight with the captain?”
Cardosa jerked his chin toward Vinny, who sat alone in the corner. “You act like that guy doesn’t do something stupid every week.”
Oh great. It looked like Grant’s fear of getting a reputation like “The Box” was coming true. He sighed. “Yeah.”
“And yet everyone’s happy when he’s out there on game day because he’s good at what he does.” Cardosa gave Grant a hard look. “And so are you. Don’t let one little argument get to you.”
Grant nodded, but it wasn’t just one little argument. Grant couldn’t help but wonder if he’d messed things up with his dream girl for all the wrong reasons. Not that he could say that to Cardosa—or anyone, for that matter.
Thankfully, his little heart-to-heart with Cardosa was cut short when Coach stood up to give his pre-game pep-talk.
“This is our game. We’re going to get the win tonight.”
The guys all shouted in unison, though Grant’s voice was slightly less enthusiastic than usual.
“We’re going to send Arizona back home with the L.”
Cheers erupted all around him. The guys were hooting and hollering in response.
“Let’s go get them.”
One last cheer went through the locker room as they all filed out. The arena’s lights were already dim, and spotlights flashed over the crowd. The guys bounced on the balls of their feet as they waited to be called.
As if he wasn’t anxious enough, Coach had surprised him with a spot on the starting lineup for his first game back. Grant stood toward the back of the group as the announcer called the other players one by one. His heart raced knowing he would be out there soon doing the only thing that made sense anymore.
Finn stood directly behind him, and he could feel the captain’s eyes boring into his back, but he refused to turn around. Grant had successfully ignored the captain during the warmup, other than the few times he’d taken a shot on goal. He had no desire to start talking to him now.
“On offense, number thirty-two, Silas Jenkins.”
Silas ran out onto the field.
“On defense, number nine, Bastian Ramirez.”
Bastian ran out onto the field.
“Playing midfield, number seven, Grant Vaughn.”
Grant took a deep breath and plastered a smile on his face before he ran out onto the field. He waved at the stands as he made his way out to midfield.
He looked over at the seats next to the home bench—Em’s seats—as the announcer called Finn’s name. Frida and Miriam were cheering next to each other. His heart sank when he saw that Em was missing. He knew that he’d ended things, but he wanted to see her one last time.
Finn settled in a spot next to Grant. “She’s not there,” he said through gritted teeth as he smiled at the crowd.
Grant didn’t want to have this talk right here, right now. He kept
