The drive back from the cabin had been long and exhausting.

Ethan wouldn't shut up about how suspiciously cozy Blake and Isabella had been the entire time, Kevin and Kyle kept making knowing glances, and Bryan—smug as ever—barely reacted when Ethan casually mentioned that someone had seen us in the hot tub.

That someone being Isabella.

I had wanted to die on the spot, but Bryan? He had just shrugged, looking entirely too proud of himself. Like he had planned for people to see us.

So now, back in our dorm, I had two very important questions.

One: How much had Isabella actually seen?

Two: What the hell happened between her and Blake?

I was sitting cross-legged on my bed, arms crossed, staring down Isabella like I was about to interrogate a criminal.

She was pacing the room, avoiding eye contact, clearly nervous.

"Okay, so," I began, voice too calm. "Are we going to talk about the fact that you and Blake were acting like a full-on couple this morning?"

Isabella froze, her hand halfway to unpacking her bag.

She turned slowly, her face already turning red. "W-we weren't!"

I raised an eyebrow.

She groaned, collapsing onto my bed, covering her face with her hands. "It wasn't even a big deal."

I grinned. "So something did happen."

Isabella whipped around, glaring. "Shut up, Amber!"

I smirked, crossing my arms tighter. "Izzy. You and Blake. What happened?"

She groaned again, dragging her hands down her face. "It was just—ugh, it was stupid!"

I leaned forward, eyes wide. "Did you kiss?"

Silence.

A slow, evil grin spread across my face. "You did kiss."

She whined into her pillow. "Amber, please."

I giggled, fully enjoying this. "Was it just a kiss? Or was it, you know..." I wiggled my eyebrows. "more?"

Isabella made a strangled noise, burying her face deeper into the pillow.

"Oh. My. God," I gasped, clapping my hands together. "Did you guys hook up?"

"Shut UP!" Isabella threw a pillow at me.

I dodged it easily, giggling uncontrollably. "Oh, this is gold. Blake! Your crush! Your long-time crush!"

She groaned dramatically, flopping onto her back. "I know!"

I smirked. "So? Was it everything you dreamed of?"

She peeked at me, her face completely red now.

"...Yes," she muttered.

I squealed, grabbing another pillow and hugging it. "OH MY GOD."

She groaned. "I regret telling you anything."

I grinned, still bouncing. "You love me."

She whined dramatically. "I hate you."

"Love me!"

"Hate you!"

I giggled, kicking my feet against the bed, my excitement overflowing.

Then—I remembered something.

And suddenly, it wasn't so funny anymore.

I cleared my throat, sitting up straighter. "So, uh... speaking of things getting heated..."

Isabella froze mid-panic.

Her eyes locked onto mine.

And then it hit her.

Her entire demeanor shifted.

Slowly, her lips curled into a smirk.

"Ohhhh," she drawled, eyes lighting up. "We're not done, Amber. I saw you."

My stomach dropped. "Saw me what?"

Isabella grinned wider, crossing her arms. "Don't play dumb. I saw you and Bryan in the hot tub."

Oh. My. God.

I froze, my entire body heating up in an instant. "Y-you what?"

She giggled. "Oh, don't 'you what' me. I was walking back from the kitchen, and I looked outside, and BAM—there you were, on top of him, making out like your lives depended on it."

I covered my face with my hands. "Oh my God."

Isabella burst out laughing. "Oh, I'm never letting this go."

I whined. "Please do."

She wiped fake tears from her eyes. "Didn't know you had it in you. I should've filmed it."

I groaned, grabbing a pillow and whacking her with it.

She just cackled, rolling away.

"I hate you," I muttered, still burning with embarrassment.

She giggled. "Yeah, well, now we're even."

I sighed dramatically, flopping back onto the bed.

(Bryan's POV) - End of March

The locker room was a mess of nervous energy, filled with the sharp scent of sweat and the sound of cleats tapping against the tile floor. Some guys were stretching, others taping their wrists or retying their laces for the third time, all of us trying to keep our hands busy, like fidgeting would somehow stop the tension from creeping in. No one wanted to say it out loud, but we were all thinking the same thing.

This game was everything.

Recruiters were sitting in the stands, watching our every move. If we wanted a shot at anything—scholarships, scouts, even a future in this sport—tonight was the night to prove ourselves. The other team was good. Too good. We had studied them, analyzed their plays, and still, there was no guarantee that we'd come out on top.

I sat on the bench, taping my fingers, rolling my shoulders, trying to loosen the tightness in my chest. Kyle paced back and forth, muttering under his breath, while Kevin sat eerily still, which was concerning since he was usually bouncing off the walls. Ethan, of course, was the only one trying to make jokes, probably to keep from cracking under pressure like the rest of us.

Coach stormed in, clapping his hands together with enough force to make a few guys jump.

"Alright, listen up!" His voice boomed through the room, immediately shutting everyone up. We all snapped to attention, because when Coach was in game mode, ignoring him wasn't an option.

"You already know what's at stake," he started, his sharp gaze sweeping across the team. "We've worked our asses off for this, and now, we have to fucking deliver."

A murmur of agreement rippled through the team, but it wasn't enough for Coach. His expression darkened, like he wasn't convinced we understood how serious this was.

"That means no stupid mistakes. No easy plays. You play every inning like it's your last. And if any of you let the pressure get to you because some recruiters are sitting in the stands, I swear to God, I will personally make sure you don't step on this field again."

Silence.

Then, Ethan muttered under his breath, "Damn, alright."

Coach's head snapped toward him so fast it was almost inhuman. "What was that, Diaz?"

Ethan immediately sat up straighter. "Nothing, Coach. Love the energy. Big fan."

Kyle choked on his water, coughing into his elbow to keep from laughing. I covered my mouth with my fist, but I couldn't stop the smirk threatening to break through. Coach just sighed, shaking his head before continuing.

"The other team is aggressive. They play hard, and they think they've already won. They don't respect you. They don't think you're a threat." His eyes gleamed with something dangerous. "So go out there and fucking prove them wrong."

A roar of agreement erupted around me as guys jumped up, slapping each other's backs, hyping each other up. The energy had shifted. We weren't just nervous anymore—we were ready.

Coach smirked, nodding in satisfaction. "Now, get the hell out there and make me proud."

We jogged out of the locker room, the cool night air hitting me like a shock to the system. The stadium was packed. The lights were blinding, the roar of the crowd vibrating in my chest.

And then—I saw her.

Amber.

She stood near the front, wearing my jersey, navy blue and silver face paint streaked across her cheeks, her dark hair pulled back in a way that made my stomach tighten. She was with Isabella, Sofia, and a few of her friends, all of them holding handmade signs, absolutely losing their minds.

For a second, I couldn't breathe.

The nerves were still there, buzzing under my skin, but now, they were mixed with something else. Something bigger. I had to win. Not just for the team, not just for myself, but because she was watching.

And I wasn't about to let her down.

The first few innings were brutal. Their pitcher was a machine, throwing fastballs like he was trying to take someone's head off. Every time we gained a run, they caught up. Every time we stole a base, they stole one right back. Neither team was backing down, and every inning felt like a fight for survival.

By the bottom of the eighth, the score was tied. 6-6.

The crowd was electric, the stadium practically shaking from the energy. I could hear Amber's voice cutting through the noise, screaming my name. I rolled my shoulders, stepping up to the plate, gripping my bat tighter. The pitcher locked eyes with me, and I could tell—he was feeling the pressure, too.

This was it.

One swing. One hit. One chance to change everything.

The pitch came. I swung hard.

The crack of the bat echoed through the field as the ball soared toward the outfield. I took off, my legs burning as I rounded first, then second. The outfielder jumped, reaching for the ball—he caught it, but fumbled.

The ball slipped from his glove, bouncing off the grass.

"GO, GO, GO!"

I pushed harder, rounding third. The base coach waved me forward. The catcher caught the throw, waiting at home plate. I dropped low, sliding, dirt kicking up around me as I crashed into the base.

Silence.

Then—the umpire's voice rang out.

"SAFE!"

The stadium exploded. My teammates swarmed me, shaking me, screaming, slapping my helmet. I barely had time to react before I was being yanked to my feet, lost in a mess of arms and cheers. We had won.

Through the chaos, I glanced at the stands, searching for one face.

Amber.

She was jumping, screaming, hands covering her mouth like she might actually cry.

And just like that, every sore muscle, every second of stress—every ounce of pressure I'd been carrying—was worth it.

The noise was deafening, the stadium erupting into cheers, but all I could hear was the pounding in my chest and the adrenaline still coursing through my veins.

We had won.

I was still trying to catch my breath when my teammates grabbed me, dragging me into a chaotic, overexcited mess of hugs, headlocks, and backslaps. Ethan practically jumped on my back, yelling something about me being his new favorite person. Kyle was half-laughing, half-screaming, shaking my shoulders like I had just discovered the cure for cancer.

"THAT WAS INSANE!" Kevin shouted, his voice almost cracking.

Coach was storming onto the field, grinning for once in his life, clapping his hands like we had just won the World Series. I barely heard what he said over the commotion, but I caught a gruff, "Proud of you boys," before he started shoving us toward the dugout, already preparing for post-game interviews and recruiter meetings.

But my mind was somewhere else.

The second I broke away from the celebration, my eyes went back to the stands—back to her.

Amber was still cheering like a lunatic, her face flushed, the navy and silver face paint streaking a little from what looked like tears in her eyes. Isabella and Sofia were jumping beside her, waving their signs in the air, but Amber—she was looking straight at me.

I smirked, tilting my head toward the field as if to say, 'Did I do good?'

She beamed, nodding furiously, her hands clasped together like she had just watched the most stressful moment of her life.

I had no idea how the hell I was supposed to wait until after the post-game crap to get to her.

Ethan, catching my expression, grinned. "Damn, Munzo, you're looking at her like you're about to run up there and propose."

Kyle snickered. "Nah, I'd say more like he's gonna drag her under the bleachers and make her forget how to breathe."

I shoved him, grinning despite myself. "Shut up."

But honestly?

They weren't wrong.

By the time I got through the recruiter handshakes, Coach's speech, and half the team nearly tackling me again, the crowd had started clearing out.

I barely stopped to grab my bag before I found her.

Amber was standing near the entrance of the field, waiting, rocking on her heels, playing with the sleeves of my jersey that were too big on her. The navy and silver paint on her face was a little smudged now, but she had never looked better.

The second she saw me, she lit up.

I didn't even let her say anything before I grabbed her, wrapping my arms around her waist, lifting her clean off the ground.

She squeaked, laughing, her arms clinging to my shoulders.

"Bryan!" she gasped between giggles.

I didn't let her down, just spun her once before setting her back on her feet, still holding her close.

"You saw that, right?" I asked, smirking, breathless, still buzzing with adrenaline.

Amber rolled her eyes, grinning. "Saw it? Bryan, I nearly had a heart attack!"

I chuckled, my hands tightening on her waist. "You worried about me, Ballerina?"

She scoffed, but I saw the pink tint in her cheeks. "I just didn't want to deal with Coach if you got injured."

I smirked, leaning down slightly. "Liar."

She bit her lip, her eyes softening.

"Okay, fine," she admitted. "I was really, really proud of you."

Something in my chest tightened, my smirk dropping just a little.

I didn't say anything, just tilted her chin up and kissed her.

She let out a soft sound, melting into me immediately, her hands sliding up to grip the front of my jersey.

It wasn't rushed, wasn't desperate—it was just us, standing in the middle of a nearly empty stadium, me still in my dirty uniform, her still covered in school colors, like she had been made to wear them all along.

I pulled back slightly, smirking against her lips. "You're really hot in my jersey, by the way."

Amber snorted, shoving my chest. "You're disgusting."

"I know," I murmured, pulling her back in, brushing my lips over her ear, "But you're still standing here with me."

She shivered. "Shut up."

I just grinned.

Kyle and Ethan's voices suddenly echoed from behind us.

"HEY, ROMEO, SAVE IT FOR LATER, WE'RE GETTING FOOD!"

Amber groaned, burying her face in my chest. "Oh my God, why do they exist?"

I laughed, kissing her temple. "Come on, Ballerina. Let's celebrate."

And with that, I threw an arm over her shoulders and led her toward the rest of our idiot friends, already planning how I was going to steal her away later.

The diner was buzzing, packed with students and fans who had come straight from the game. The entire team had taken over a long row of booths, drowning themselves in burgers, fries, and milkshakes, still riding the high of the win. Conversations overlapped, laughter filled the space, and even Coach had shown up for a few minutes before heading out, for once looking like he wasn't planning to strangle anyone.

Amber was sitting beside me, still wearing my jersey, and if I wasn't already feeling smug as hell, that sight alone would've done it. She kept playing with the sleeves like she wasn't even thinking about it, twisting the fabric around her fingers, and every time I caught her doing it, my grin just widened.

Kyle was mid-rant about how Kevin stole one of his fries, which had escalated into Kevin loudly defending himself, Ethan was reliving his favorite moments of the game, and Isabella was too busy whispering with Amber to care about the chaos happening around them.

Ethan suddenly turned to Amber, pointing his fry at her like he was about to interrogate her.

"Alright, be honest. How bad did you freak out during the game? On a scale of one to 'I'm about to faint,' where were we at?"

Amber groaned, sinking lower in the booth. "Oh my God, Ethan—"

Isabella jumped in immediately, grinning like she'd been waiting for this moment. "She almost cried during the ninth inning!"

Amber's head snapped toward her. "I did not!"

Sofia, who had been listening from across the table, suddenly perked up. "No, she totally did! I was watching her! She stopped breathing at one point!"

Kyle leaned forward, smirking. "Damn, Munzo, you got your girl getting emotional over you now?"

I grinned, throwing an arm around Amber's shoulders. "Guess I'm just that good."

Amber whacked my chest. "Don't let it go to your head."

Ethan snorted. "Too late for that. His ego's been inflated since Costa Rica."

I kicked him under the table.

Isabella leaned in closer to Amber, grinning. "Okay, but seriously, this was so cute. You should've seen yourself. You were gripping my arm so tight I lost circulation."

Amber groaned again, dropping her head onto my shoulder. "You guys are the worst."

Kyle raised a brow. "Oh, we haven't even gotten to you two sneaking off after the game. You disappeared real fast, huh, Munzo?"

I smirked, completely unbothered. "No comment."

Amber lifted her head, glaring at me. "You suck."

I grinned, pressing a quick kiss to her temple. "And yet, you're still here."

Ethan wiped fake tears from his eyes. "This is the best night of my life."

(Amber's POV)

By the time we got back to the dorm, I was exhausted. Between the game, the diner, and the relentless teasing, my body was done.

Bryan had walked me to my door, still smug as hell about everything while I was still recovering from secondhand embarrassment.

"You had a good night," he murmured, leaning against the doorframe, looking at me like he knew I had.

I crossed my arms, trying to keep my cool. "Minus the part where everyone made fun of me? Yeah, I'd say it was fine."

He smirked, stepping closer. "You're still thinking about that?"

"Of course, I'm still thinking about it!" I hissed. "They were all watching me! I was so obvious!"

Bryan chuckled, reaching out to tug me toward him, wrapping his arms around my waist. "You're cute when you get all flustered, you know that?"

I scoffed. "Shut up."

His hands slid lower, his lips brushing just barely against my jaw. "Want me to make it up to you?"

I shivered, my breath hitching. "Bryan—"

"Shh," he murmured, kissing the corner of my mouth before pulling back just enough to meet my gaze. "Let me in."

I stared at him for a second, then sighed. "Fine."

He grinned, reaching behind me to push the door open, already leading me inside.

And I had a feeling I wasn't getting any sleep tonight.