Knights by five.
I bent forward, hands on my knees, dragging air into my lungs as the noise crashed over us. Cheers. Relief. Around me, bodies collided in back slaps and shouts, Jake already yelling something unintelligible as Bobby wrapped him in a headlock.
“Jesus.” Bobby puffed as he jogged up beside me, eyes wild. “You were flying today, Cap.”
“Everywhere,” Jake added, pointing at me. “Like you were possessed.”
I straightened, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, then spitting on the grass. “Just doing my job.”
Bobby snorted. “Nah. That wasn’t just fitness.” He leaned in, dropping his voice. “What, you get laid or something?”
Jake’s grin went feral when I stayed silent. “Oh, you fucking did!”
“That is none of your business,” I snapped. “Feck off with that shite.”
“He’s going all angry and Irish on us,” Bobby howled, already backing away. “He definitely got laid.”
I lunged for him, but he took off laughing.
Jake slung an arm around my shoulders. “I’m proud of you, mate. About time you broke the dry spell.”
“Jake,” I growled, “I did not get fucking laid.”
“Well, whatever you did,” he said cheerfully, “you need to do it before every game now if we want to keep winning. Wanna know whatIdid?”
“No.”
“I knew you did. Well, I—”
“Please shut up,” I begged, shoving him off me, and he made a show of zipping his mouth closed before he took off toward the fans.
I rolled my shoulders, letting the adrenaline drain just enough to think straight again. My lungs still burned, legs aching, but the noise around us was electric.
Making my way over to my team, who were all signing jerseys and taking selfies, I joined quickly. This part I enjoyed. Meeting the people who supported us would never get old.
I was signing another jersey when a tug at the hem of my shorts stopped me.
I looked down.
She was small, maybe seven or eight, with a Knights cap slipping off her head, freckles dusted across her nose like she’d been out in the sun all day. She clutched a handmade sign to her chest, the edges bent and loved.
“Hi,” she said, breathless. Then she blurted, “I came just to see you.”
That alone stole my breath. I crouched immediately, ignoring the noise around us. “You did?”
She nodded so hard her ponytail bounced. “I made this.” She unfolded the sign carefully. My name was written in thick marker, crooked and bold, with a number ten beside it and about twelve hearts crowded around it.
“When I grow up”—words tumbled over each other now that she’d started—“I’m gonna play rugby like you. I’m gonna be a fly-half and kick really far, and my mom says I run like the wind already.” She paused, eyes huge. “And I’m gonna be famous. But I’ll still remember you because you’re the best.”
My heart was a puddle at my feet.
“That’s a big plan,” I managed, smiling even as my throat burned. I wanted her to have that plan, and I knew without reservation she would have more opportunities because of the woman I’d woken up with this morning. Not because things were easy for women in this sport. They weren’t. I’d seen how narrow the margins were, how often momentum depended on who waswilling to keep pushing when attention drifted. How much more deliberate they had to be, just to stay in the conversation.
But Teddy was changing the narrative. Her whole team was. It was important, and even more, it was needed.
I was starting to understand that there were other ways to matter. And now that the thought had taken ahold, it wasn’t letting go.
She leaned closer, lowering her voice like she was sharing a secret. “You’re my favorite. I tell everyone. Even my teacher.”
