Page 44 of Scrum Heat

She looks like she belongs. Not just in the frame, but in the middle of it.

Theo reaches her first. “Sensational footage queen!” he yells in greeting, his arms wide.

Before she can react, he scoops her up in a full-body hug and spins her once, muddy boots and all.

“Theo!” She shrieks and slaps at his shoulder, but it’s mostly for show. “Put me down!”

He does, then immediately leans into her phone and kisses the lens. Loudly.Twice.

“For the views,” he announces. “Make sure to tag me. I want royalties.”

Rory walks past, towel over his shoulder. “Don’t tag him. We’re trying to keep our sponsors.”

“Rude,” Theo laughs, before jumping on his back.

Finn jogs up after, cheeks red from the cold and the win, beaming. He taps Frankie on the shoulder like he’s not sure he’s allowed to interrupt.

“Hey. You okay?”

She grins. “Better than okay. You were amazing!”

“Thanks.” Finn blushes so hard it reaches his ears. “Did you get the offload play at the end? With the switch pass?”

“Every second.”

“Good,” he breathes. “Because I’m never doing that again. Not unless someone buys me pancakes.”

“You’re on,” she laughs.

Then her gaze slides past all of them.

To me.

She hesitates for a beat, then her mouth curves upwards into a smile that’s small, and real, and just for me.

I hold her stare as she steps forward, her sneakers crunching over the dead grass.

“You were incredible out there,” she says.

I shrug. “That’s the job.”

“Do you always throw guys to the ground like that?” she asks. “Or was today special?”

She’s closer now. I can see the smudge of dirt on her jeans, the way she’s holding the strap of her tote bag like she forgot it’s there.

She’s not flinching at the blood on my collarbone, not blinking at the bruises blooming along my arms. She’s looking at me like none of it makes her nervous.

I should walk away.

I don’t.

“They came for my team,” I tell her. “I don’t let that happen.”

She doesn’t laugh or try to brush it off. Instead, she holds my eyes.

And maybe it’s the victory talking. Maybe I hit my head harder than I thought during the last ten minutes of play. But as she looks right at me, I swear, it’s as though sheseessomething.

Not just the bruises, not just the quiet—

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