Page 128 of Racking Up Penalties
“New York won’t know what hit it,” I say, the thought of all of us together in the city sending a thrill through me.
“Between his touchdowns and our goals, we’ll light the place up,” Liam grins, and there’s a hint of mischief in his smile that makes me laugh.
Their banter is easy, effortless, a testament to the countless hours they’ve spent honing not just their athletic skills, but their friendship as well.
“Let’s make sure we celebrate every moment,” I whisper, more to myself than to them.
“Every single one,” Ethan agrees, squeezing my shoulder.
With Tristan shining on the field, and Ethan and Liam at my side, I feel a sense of completeness, of rightness. This is where I’m meant to be. With them. Always.
The clock is winding down, seconds slipping away like grains of sand through my clenched fingers. My pulse throbs in my ears, matching the rhythm of the chanting crowd. I lean forward, as if my body’s proximity to the field could somehow will Tristan’s feet to move faster, his arms to reach further. This isn’t just a game; it’s the end of an era for him, and the beginning of something new—for all of us.
I want it to transition with a win.
Liam’s gaze never wavers from the action, his athletic instincts attuned to the movement on the field. He understands this pressure, this moment of do or die, better than anyone.
“Tristan’s got this,” Liam says, and there’s no room for doubt in his tone. It’s more than belief; it’s certainty.
I nod, trying to latch onto his confidence. Tristan has always been the kind of person who rises to the challenge, who finds a way when there seems to be none. I’ve seen it time and again, in the quiet moments we’ve shared and the victories he’s fought so hard to earn.
The football spirals through the air—a perfect arching comet against the night sky. Time slows, the ball hanging suspended as if the universe itself is holding its breath. And then, with a grace that makes my heart lurch, the wide receiver catches it.
The world erupts into a frenzy of sound and motion as he sprints across the goal line, securing the game-winning touchdown. I’m on my feet before I even realize it, my scream merging with Ethan and Liam’s as we celebrate.
“Yes! That’s how you do it!” Ethan bellows, his face alight with joy and pride.
“Tristan, you legend!” Liam’s cheer is a wild thing, unbound and exuberant.
We’re jumping, hugging—three bodies moving as one in a chaotic dance of elation. Tears blur my vision, but they’re tears of happiness, of relief. I watch as Tristan’s teammates swarm him, all backslaps and lifted cheers. He’s done it. He’s really done it.
My chest swells, not just with pride for Tristan, but with love for these men beside me. They are my pillars, my confidants, my unexpected gift. In their own ways, they’ve each taught me about strength, passion, and the beauty of dreams chased and caught.
“Can you believe it?” I shout over the noise, turning to Ethan and Liam.
“We always believed,” Ethan replies, his broad smile telling me he wouldn’t have expected any other outcome.
“New York, baby!” Liam adds, his gray eyes sparkling with excitement for the future that awaits us.
As our laughter mingles with the cheers of the crowd, I feel it—the weight of this moment, laden with endings and beginnings. Tristan’s college career might be coming to a close, but our adventure is just getting started. Together, we’ll step into a future bright with possibility, our bond the unwavering constant in the whirlwind of change.
“Let’s go celebrate,” I say, my heart swelling with love for these incredible men and the life we’re building together. “This is just the beginning.”
I’m sprinting before I realize my feet have left the stands, Ethan and Liam right on my heels. The energy of the stadium sweeps us up like a tidal wave, pushing us toward the field where Tristan is hoisted high into the air by his teammates. My heart feels like it might burst through my chest with every step I take closer to him.
“Tristan!” I scream, my voice just one in a sea of adulation, but I need him to hear me, to see me.
The moment he spots me, his face splits into a grin so wide it could outshine the floodlights bathing the field. The air seems to shimmer with the echoes of victory as I dart past security, propelled by some unstoppable force—love, pride, sheer exhilaration—I can’t quite name.
“Up here, Tess!” Tristan calls down to me, reaching out with one muscular arm even as his teammates steady him on their shoulders.
I lunge forward, ignoring the chaos around us, and somehow, my hands find his. Strong fingers clasp mine, and with a heave from his teammates, I’m pulled into the celebration. Tristan comes down and my arms loop around Tristan’s sweat-drenched neck. I’m crying now—tears streaming freely down my cheeks because this is his moment.
“Tristan, you were incredible,” I manage to say, my voice hitching with emotion.
Ethan and Liam shove through the throng of players next, their expressions mirror my pride. Ethan slaps Tristan’s back, the thud of his palm against the pads nearly lost in the roar of the crowd.
“Man, what a play!” Ethan shouts, his brown eyes alight with fierce pride.
