Deep down, some part of me wanted exactly this—to break through her walls and discover the real Dylan underneath. The vibrant, passionate woman who makes me question everything I thought I wanted.
I lean back in my chair, eyes fixed on Dylan’s image, unable to look away. Her smile tugs at my heart, reminding me of all the little moments we’ve shared over the past few weeks. The late night talks after practice, her teasing jabs when I miss a pass, the way she cheers the loudest when any of us score.
She’s become so much more than just a teammate. More than a conquest or a prize to be won.
She’s...everything.
Staring into her frozen smile, I can’t deny the truth any longer. This stopped being about a bet the moment I saw past the surface. Now winning means nothing if it costs me a chance with her.
I made a mistake, but I’ll find a way to make this right. For her, I’m willing to swallow my pride. Dylan’s worth crossing every line for.
My fingers brush over her face, and I sigh. “What are you doing to me, Dylan?”
I’ve never let my guard down or opened up this way before. Never let someone sneak beneath my armor. But Dylan’s different. With her, I find myself wanting to share things I’ve never told another soul.
It terrifies me even as it thrills me. I’ve never felt this vulnerable or exposed.
My eyes drift to the trophy shelf, symbols of a different life and different priorities. Being the best meant closing myself off, but Dylan makes me want to tear down those walls.
With her, I feel free to just be me.
“No more games,” I whisper.
This connection between us—it’s real. I have to tell Dylan how I feel, no matter the cost. I can’t hold back any longer.
One way or another, she needs to know the truth.
And she needs to find out how I feel before she finds out about the bet, or I risk her leaving my life for good.
Chapter 26
Dylan
Itakeadeepbreath as I step onto the field, trying to clear my head. I can’t be distracted out here. The whistle blows and we’re off, running drills up and down the pitch. Jessamine falls into stride next to me, her ponytail bouncing in a way that mimics her frenetic energy.
“How’s it going?” I ask.
She grimaces. “Not great. I can’t seem to get the spin move down.”
I nod. “Here, watch me.” I execute a perfect spin, faking left before whipping the ball to the right.
Jessamine frowns. “You make it look so easy.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll get it. It just takes practice.” We repeat the drill and I give her tips, telling her to shift her weight and use her hips more. By the fifth rep, she’s starting to get it.
“Yes! That was perfect!” I high five her and she grins, flushed with accomplishment. We continue running plays and I lose myself in the rhythm of the practice, the physical exertion wiping my mind blissfully blank.
Towards the end, I glance up at the stands and freeze. Is that...? No, just my imagination playing tricks.
I shake my head and focus on the final drill. The whistle blows, signaling the end of practice, and I jog off the field with Jessamine.
“Thanks for the help today,” she says. “I really appreciate you taking the time.”
“No problem. That’s what teammates are for.” I smile and head to the locker room, feeling centered again.
Rugby and this team are my purpose now. The rest will work itself out.
I hit the showers, letting the hot water soothe my aching muscles. The steam fills the locker room as I reflect on practice. Jessamine picked things up so quickly—she’s got real talent, and I can see this being a momentary stop on a long and illustrious rugby career. I rinse off and get dressed, ready to head home.