The field is dark in the evening, save for the lights illuminating the grass, and up in the stands, ’Bama fans have shown up in full force. It’s an enormous turnout. I try my best to ignore the pointing and questions asking me where May is. We need total focus if we want to nail this one.

I unzip my thin windbreaker and toss it on a sideline bench as the girls jog onto the field. May shoots me a thumbs-up. Her voice echoes through my head – friends – but that’s not what either of us needs right now. She needs people in her corner, and I’m going to be one of those people, no matter what.

I raise a hand in a gesture of ‘wait’, and I turn around so May can see the back of my OKC Riders T-shirt. The crossed stick logo is on the front, along with the big cursive ‘Oklahoma City’, but it’s what’s on back that I care about.

When I turn around again to face the field, it’s hard to make out her expression, what with her goggles and mouthguard, but I can tell exactly what she does next.

She presses her hand to her lips and blows me the biggest kiss.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Pickups and Poor Choices

May

It’s my name.

He’s wearing my jersey.

I’m not completely sure what I’m seeing when he turns around and jabs a thumb at the number on the back of his T-shirt, but it’s me. VELASCO, above a big 13.

Honestly? I am in total shock.

I’ve seen plenty of girls in their football-playing boyfriend’s jersey. In high school and then in college, it’s not something we’re unfamiliar with. As much as I know this is for the plot we’ve fabricated throughout the season, I can feel that it’s so much more than that. I can’t help the tears that well up in my eyes.

Colt turns back, beaming proudly, and my feet practically freeze as if the grass has turned to quicksand. Sure, it’s about keeping up the narrative for the cameras that click away around us, but when my eyes meet his, all the chaos disappears, leaving just the two of us. Colt and May.

I press my hand to my lips, and I blow him the biggest flying kiss. It’s no show. I mean every damn bit of it.

That’s the last pleasant lull I get before the match hits us head-on.