AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“What about when a Super Bowl victory is on the line?” I ask. “Makes it a little more complicated, right?”
“Nah.” Aiden smiles. “Not to him. This is just another Sunday night on the field where he grew up learning how to kick. In his mind, he’s alone. There’s no crowd. There’s no press. There’s not a hundred million people watching him on their couches, calling him every name under the sun. It’s him and that nasty right foot of his. That’s it.”
The guys line up, and I hold my breath. The ball is snapped, and Justin Rodgers, the holder, catches it perfectly. Dallas takes three steps forward, his head down and his eyes on the ball. His right leg winds back and his cleat connects with the leather so loudly, I can hear the sound from here.
We watch as the ball lifts off the ground and soars toward the goalposts. It passes over the yellow crossbar with feet to spare and sails perfectly through the air. The referees lift their arms and signal the extra point is good, and the players storm the field.
Dallas gets put on someone’s shoulders. Confetti falls from the rafters. “We Are the Champions” starts to play from the speakers, and I stare at the field, flabbergasted.
A security guard runs toward me. He’s talking on a walkie-talkie, and gestures for me to lean over the railing.
“Coach Holmes wants you out there,” the man says.
“What? No. He’s with his team.”
“He requested all three of you.” He nods toward Maggie and Aiden. “We can’t have people storming the field, but family members are allowed.”
“Are you sure? How do we get down?”
“Jump.” He holds out his arms, and I burst out laughing.
“What? Are you out of your mind?”
“Lacey.” Maggie gives me a gentle nudge. “You’ve jumped off a ledge this high before. Go. Go get your guy.”
I scramble over the railing before I can think twice. I sit on the edge of the concrete wall and look down. Adrenaline courses through my blood, exactly like it did the night I ran to Shawn when he was having a panic attack, and I push myself off the ledge and into the arms of the security guard.
I’m glad no one is threatening trespassing charges this time.
He catches me with ease and sets me on the ground before motioning for Maggie and Aiden to follow. I sprint across the field and make a beeline for Shawn. I run straight into his back, my arms slipping around his waist and my cheek pressing against his shirt.
He tugs my hands so I’m in front of him, and his smile is wide and bright. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Congratulations.” I choke out a sob and throw my arms around his neck. He lifts me off the ground and holds me tight as he spins me around, a dizzying circle of happiness. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Why are you crying?” he asks. He wipes away a tear and cups my cheek. “There’s no crying in football.”
“They are happy tears,” I explain. “You’ve worked so hard. The guys have worked so hard. You deserve this so much.”
“Ah, shucks, baby. You’re too good to me. I couldn’t have done this without you.”
“I didn’t do anything. This was all you.”
“No.” He pulls back and stares at me. His eyes are glistening with tears, too, and I’ve never seen him so happy. “You encourage me. You believe in me. You stay up late with me and listen to me talk about lineups and plays even though you don’t understand half of what I’m saying. You taught me it’s okay to not be okay, not all the time, and you’re my safe space to go to after every win and every loss.” He pauses to kiss me soft and slow, and it electrifies every one of my nerve endings. “You’re my home, Lacey girl, and I love you so much.”
“I love you too. I love you to the stars. To the depths of this universe and every one beyond.”
“Sounds like you’re obsessed with me, Daniels. I like it. I like it a lot.”
“Don’t flatter yourself, Holmes. I just want to be in the parade next week. That’s all,” I whisper, and he laughs. I hold that sound close to my heart, in the space I know he’ll always be. “About what you said earlier.”
“What did I say earlier?” Shawn asks. Mischief laces his question, and there’s a glimmer of glee in his smile. “Can you remind me?”
“Getting married in Vegas. Is that—were you serious?”
“Do you want me to be serious?”
I swallow and nod, a chaotic bob of my head that makes more laughter burst out of me. “Yes. Yes, I do,” I say. “I want to keep you forever and ever. I want to have your name on every jersey I wear, but I want it to be my last name, too. I want to adopt eight kids with you and take obnoxious photos on Christmas with our matching pajamas.”
