Page 71 of Flag On The Play
“Don’t encourage her,” I murmur playfully, and Emma chuckles again.
We quiet down a little as the play clock resets. Finlay jogs onto the field, and my stomach does that wild flutter it alwaysdoes when I see him in his zone. Focused. Confident. Like he was made for this.
I don’t even realize I’m holding my breath until the whistle blows and he makes a pass that’s so clean, so precise, it has the whole stadium roaring. Another first down. He points to the stands briefly, and I swear his eyes find mine for a split second.
Emma leans closer, her voice soft, almost lost in the cheering. “You’re exactly what he needs, Nova.”
I glance over, surprised by the tenderness in her voice. She’s not looking at the field anymore. She’s looking at me.
“When my husband was sick,” she continues, “we talked a lot. About life. About Finlay. And about you.”
My heart stutters. “Me?”
She nods. “After you visited him. He told me Finlay never should’ve let your friendship fade. He said he could see it, back when you were just kids. You were the girl Finlay belonged with.”
Emotion clamps down hard on my throat. “He said that?”
Emma reaches out and places her hand gently on mine. “He did. And he was right. I see the way my son looks at you, Nova. It’s different. It’s full. You brought him back to life.”
I blink fast, trying to keep the tears from spilling. “Those years when we lived next door they were some of the best memories I have. I’m so grateful for them.”
“I’m grateful too,” she says quietly.
I smile, my lips trembling. “I love your son.”
She squeezes my hand. “I know.”
Just then, the crowd erupts louder than before, and we all whip our heads toward the field. Jace is tearing down the sideline, cleats kicking up turf. He dodges one tackle, then another, and then he’s gone.
“Come on!” Roxy shouts, jumping to her feet.
Delaney grabs my arm as we rise, the stadium a wave of roaring fans.
Jace crosses into the end zone like a lightning bolt.
Touchdown.
Game over.
Nighthawks win.
Everyone around us loses it, but my eyes go straight to Finlay, arms raised in victory, teammates piling on Jace, and then, just for a second, his head turns toward the stands again. Our eyes lock. The smile he gives me is everything.
And I know, without a doubt, that he’s mine.
And I’m his.
So when he exits the stadium and tells me we’re joining the team to celebrate, I don’t argue.
The bass is thumping, vibrating through the floor and up my legs as we walk into the packed club. Neon lights flicker overhead, strobes casting flashes of color over the swarm of dancing bodies. The victory energy from the game hasn’t died, it’s only gotten louder.
Finlay’s hand is securely around my waist, his touch warm and possessive. He leans down to whisper in my ear, lips brushing my skin. “You look so damn good tonight.”
I smile, tilting my head so our eyes meet. “You’re just saying that because you won.”
He grins, those perfect eyes shining. “Nope. Winning just gives me the excuse to show you off.”
“Show me off, huh?” I tease, leaning into him. “You planning on making all your teammates jealous?”
