Her eyes held me captive. Then she leaned in, wrapping her hands around my neck and kissing me again.
“I’m not running,” she breathed against my lips.
And that was everything I’d hoped to hear from her.
***
The evening had melted into that lazy stretch where the sun dipped low but didn’t disappear completely, the sky washed in pale gold and blue. The ocean remained calm beyond the deck, steady and endless. And I had Teddy beside me.
“So Micah knew this morning? That’s why she pulled me from sprints?”
I nodded. “She was a lot of help. I didn’t know how I was going to get you there without inducing too many questions.”
“I need to talk to my so-called best friend.”
“She wants to see you happy.”
She smiled softly, eyes on mine. “I am happy.”
Hearing those words from her was all I needed right now.
We’d found the perfect spot in the diner’s beach seating area.
“God, that smells so freaking good, I’m starving,” Teddy said, inhaling the salty fried food lingering in the air.
The waitress came and we ordered a surf ‘n’ turf platter to share—with extra fries, of course. Our Coke floats were placed in front of us quickly, and that gave Teddy all the wait time she could handle.
“Okay.” She rested her elbows on the table. “Start from the beginning.”
I leaned forward too, matching her posture but also wanting to be closer to her. “It wasn’t one thing; it was a lot of small things.”
“So start from the first moment.”
“Watching the Knights lose our pitch,” I said. “Seeing how quickly the conversation turned to whatweneeded to fix, whatweneeded to compromise—while your team was already doing more with less.” I shook my head. “That sat wrong with me.”
She nodded.
“And then I started thinking about my sister,” I said. “About what rugby could’ve looked like for her if someone had bothered to build something that wasn’t an afterthought.” I glanced out toward the water, then back to her.
She smiled sadly, understanding that hardship and missed opportunities. “When did it turn real?” she asked, quieter.
“I think it started at the Buzz shoot we did, the media after that. I hated how it shaped us into gossip when we were just doing our jobs.”
“And you squashed that story… for me.”
“Of course. It made you uncomfortable.” I smirked. “That was a no-brainer.”
Her hand slid across the table, fingers brushing mine, little fires dancing between each touch.
“But I think after that, when I saw those girls at St. Brigid’s, how they looked up to you, how their questions were so different to what boys their age would’ve asked.” I shook my head. “The lads would’ve been more concerned about what I lifted at the gym, or what protein brand I endorse. They’re in a privilegedposition and the girls were more worried about earning the right to be there at all.”
She stilled, fingers tightening briefly around mine, her focus narrowing as it sank in.
“I couldn’t unsee it after that. The gap. The way we talk about potential when it’s boys, and permission when it’s girls.” I traced a slow line with my other hand, along the condensation on my glass. “I kept thinking, what happens to them if no one steps in? If the answer is always wait, or be grateful, or prove yourself twice over?”
“So you started building it,” she said.
“Quietly.” I nodded. “Talking to the right people. Making sure it wasn’t just a nice idea that fell apart the second it got hard.” I met her eyes. “I wanted it to last. To make it permanent.”
