Page 43 of Just Say Yes

The air between us settled into something easy, comfortable. I could still see the uncertainty lingering in her eyes, but there was also something else—a flicker of hope, maybe.

I wanted to nurture that, to see it grow.

Before I could stop myself, I cleared my throat. “I know this might sound like a terrible idea after the other night, but ... would you still want to come to my next game? As friends. I promise the match will be a good one.” I gave her a teasing smile, hoping to coax out that laughter I was coming to crave.

She hesitated, chewing on her bottom lip as she considered my offer. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea ...”

“Come on,” I coaxed, leaning in slightly. “We won two games. The team needs our lucky charm in the stands. They’ve been on a roll ever since you showed up. I don’t think it’s a coincidence.”

She rolled her eyes, but I could see the hint of amusement there, the way her lips curved just slightly. “You’re relentless.”

“Only when I’m right,” I replied, unable to stop the grin spreading across my face.

She sighed, looking like she was trying to convince herself more than me. “Fine. But only because I really like Maria. No expectations ... asfriends.” She lifted a finger. “And no more sleepovers.”

“Of course,” I agreed, holding out my hand for her to shake. “No expectations.”

If she noticed that I’d subtly left off theno sleepoversclause, she didn’t let on.

MJ laughed, her shoulders relaxing, and the sound filled me with a strange sense of accomplishment.

If she wanted to be friends, I could do that. I was a fantastic fucking friend.

* * *

Thankfully,the next game was in Central Michigan, so MJ only had a forty-five-minute drive before she arrived.

Before the game started, I couldn’t help but search the stands until I spotted her, tucked in the middle of the front row. Maria had taken her under her wing, and for that I was grateful. Maria’s arms swung wide as she chatted with MJ, pointing to parts of the field or other players and laughing.

Just knowing she was there sent a jolt of energy through me, my focus sharper, my movements faster. Maybe Jack was right after all—something about having MJ at the game affected the energy on the field.

MJ really was becoming something of a lucky charm, and I wasn’t about to question it. If having her in the stands gave me an edge, I’d fucking take it.

As the game started, MJ didn’t seem to notice me looking at first. Her focus was on the field, eyes moving with the action, her hand coming up to her mouth in moments of tension.

I found myself sneaking glances at her whenever I could, drawn to her expressions, the way her lips curved when our team scored, or how her brows furrowed in concentration as she followed the game or leaned in to ask Maria something.

As the game went on, tension was high. I took a hit that sent a shock wave of pain down my left leg. I staggered, pulling myself back up, and as I steadied, my gaze drifted toward the sidelines. There she was, her eyes wide with worry, her hand almost reaching out as if she wanted to pull me from the field.

Our eyes met, and in that moment her concern felt like a balm to the ache radiating from my knee. She gave me a quick, reassuring nod.

Somehow that small gesture grounded me, eased the pain, and gave me the push to keep going.

Fueled by her presence, I threw myself into the game with renewed determination. Every pass, every move, felt sharper, more purposeful, and by the time we scored the final points, sealing our victory, I knew that part of that win was hers.

After the match, I made my way over to her, ignoring the soreness pulsing in my leg. She was waiting by the sidelines, her arms crossed but her eyes filled with relief as she watched me approach.

“You okay?” she asked, her voice soft but laced with genuine worry.

“Just a bump,” I assured her, grinning. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

She didn’t look convinced, her brows pinching together as her gaze flicked to my knee. “Looked like more than just a bump from where I was sitting.”

Her concern stirred something inside me, and I found myself reaching out, resting a hand on the wall between us. “I’ve got my lucky charm here. What could go wrong?”

“You’re an idiot.” She rolled her eyes, but I caught the faintest trace of a smile as she glanced up at me. A faint mixture of guilt and satisfaction rolled over me. Iwasan idiot on the field sometimes—you couldn’t get the rewards without a little risk. Still, there was something about her genuine concern that lit a fire in my gut.

For a moment it was just the two of us, standing close, the sounds of the crowd fading into the background.

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