“Does this affect your contract—”
I lifted my free hand, not to answer, but to pause them. “A formal statement is being made alongside my investors later today. I will remain captain of the Knights until further notice. Any other questions will be answered in time. Thank you for your time today. I look forward to what’s coming next.”
Before anyone could object, I stepped back from the podium and headed to where she was already moving toward the exit. Cameras followed, flashes popping, but I didn’t slow. I didn’t look back.
Micah let her through first, and our PR assistant, Daphne, halted the press who were still asking questions, but I needed to get to her.
I’d barely made it out of the door and across the hallway when a hand closed around my wrist and pulled me straight into an empty storage closet. Her scent immediately surrounded me as I looked around, remembering the last time we were in a dark place like this together and how long ago that felt.
“Jesus Christ,” she said, one hand lifting to her face. “Connor.”
I didn’t give her space. I stepped in instead, soothing her before she could spiral, my hands steady where everything else felt like it was shaking.
“What the hell was that?” she demanded, breathless, eyes bright and wide. That fire—the defiance, the refusal to be handled—was exactly why I was standing here. It was what had tilted my world on its axis and forced me to rethink everything I thought my life would look like. I was relieved to see it hadn’t dulled.
Her hands came up to my jacket, fingers curling into the fabric like she needed the contact. “When did you decide this?” she asked. “How long have you been planning it? Why didn’t you tell me? Were you ever going to tell me before—”
I caught her wrists gently.
“I wanted to,” I said. “A dozen times. But I needed it to be real first. Coach has been helping me, putting me in contact with the right people. I wanted to tell you so many times.”
Her throat bobbed as she swallowed, emotion finally cracking through the adrenaline.
“And Ireland?” she asked, her voice quiet and so out of character for her. “Was that ever an option?”
“It was.” I nodded. “And it wasn’t enough.”
Her eyes searched my face, like she was bracing for something else to fall apart.
I stopped, listening to the muffled noises outside the door. A reminder that the world hadn’t stopped even if we were in a private bubble right now.
“It started to become less of a want and more of a burden.” I sighed, still feeling that pang of guilt in my gut, but what I was doing now was so much stronger than that. “I love living here, I love my team, and it took me a while to realize that I didn’t have to live up to anyone else’s version of me.
“I was already living my dream.” I stepped closer to her, bracketing her hips in my hands. “And you made it so much more.”
“You didn’t do this because of me,” she said, more a question than a statement.
Her eyes searched mine, frantic and wild, processing it all.
“I did this because standing beside you made it impossible not to see what matters.”
Her breath shuddered.
“I don’t even know what to say,” she whispered.
“Don’t say anything,” I whispered back. “Just kiss me.”
She surged forward then, hard and unfiltered, all the restraint from the room burning off in one intense, perfect second as she kissed me.
When we broke apart, she was already talking again.
“Okay,” she said, breathless. “You have to explain everything. Starting from the beginning.” She pushed at my chest with little force. “And don’t skip anything.”
“I won’t leave anything out, but I’m not going to tell you everything in a storage closet.”
She laughed, and I knew then that I was never going to recover from her. “Why?”
“Because the last time you kissed me in a closet, you ran away.”
