Page 115 of Just Say Yes

I had told myself she was a lucky charm. Nothing more.

But now, running drills and pushing through tackles, it didn’t feel like luck anymore.

It felt likeher.

Like she’d slipped into the cracks of my life without me noticing, making everything brighter, more meaningful.

Practice wrapped up with sprints, the kind of grueling, sweat-soaked punishment Coach loved to dish out. By the time we hit the showers, my legs felt like lead, but my head was clear.

“Brown,” Coach called as I grabbed my gear bag. “Need a word.”

I followed him to his office, the smell of leather and liniment heavy in the air.

“You’ve been playing like a man on fire,” he said, settling into his chair. “Whatever’s gotten into you—keep it up.”

“Thanks, Coach.”

He leaned back, his expression softening into something almost ... proud. “I got the news. You’re getting called up, Logan. Sevens want you back. It’s official.”

The words hit me like a freight train, the air leaving my lungs in one heavy rush.

Called up.

This was it. The second chance I’d spent months chasing. The dream I’d sacrificed everything for was real.

So why didn’t it feel like good news?

Sitting here, staring at his desk, all I could think about was her. The way she smiled, like she didn’t know how beautiful she was. The way she kissed me, like I was someone worthy of her light.

What if leaving meant losing that? Losing her?

What if staying meant losing everything else?

I managed a nod, my voice even. “When do they need me?”

“After this week’s game,” Coach said, his tone light, almost celebratory.

A small sigh of relief escaped me. I still had time to talk with MJ and tell her the news of the call-up and my inkling to decline the offer.

We could figure out what came next––together.

“You’ll wrap up this week’s game, and then it’s straight to training camp with the Sevens squad. They want you ready for the next tournament cycle. Pretty soon, you’ll be headed to South Africa.”

South Africa.Fuck.

I nodded again, the reality settling over me like a weight I wasn’t ready to carry. I’d be facing disappointed coaches, sponsors, and fans. Quitting was essentially setting my entire life on fire and walking away from the blaze.

MJ’s face flashed in my mind—her laugh, the way she kissed me in the truck like she trusted me not to break her.

And here I was, on the verge of leaving the only life I knew behind.

I’d spent years chasing this dream, telling myself it was enough. And maybe it was—until her.

Practice had worn me out, but the ache in my chest had nothing to do with the lingering stiffness in my knee or the burn in my muscles.

Back at the hotel, I reclined against the edge of the bed, phone in hand, scrolling mindlessly through the same notifications I’d already seen twice. The soft hum of the heater filled the silence, but it didn’t drown out the restless energy buzzing under my skin.

Practice had been good—great, even—but the high I usually rode after a session like that felt muted. Off.

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