Never in my life had I thought of myself as anyone's knight in shining armor. I was, at best, an advisor in the royal court. All tactical nonsense, no actual sword-wielding.

But here I was, gallantly leading Kiernan through a sea of green, navy and gold as she held onto the straps of my backpack, making our way through the stadium lot. Jed had staked out a tailgate spot with a few of his former teammates in the corner of the lot, posted up under an emerald green tent beside the open flatbed of a Dodge Ram. There were already card tables set up with stacks of green solo cups and two open Yeti coolers filled to the brim with Bud Light and White Claws. Former football players got first access to the prime spots in the stadium lot, where it loomed across the street in the early sun.

Tailgating at a place like Notre Dame was an all day affair. Music from everyone's respective spots melded together in the hot morning air, and godspeed to anyone trying to get to their parking spot if they showed up late. Watching a truck trying to pull into a tailgate spot where all of the adjacent tailgates had spilled over into theirs and underclassmen clogged the lot in droves was a special brand of secondhand anxiety.

Seeming to sense we'd reached our destination, Kiernan finally let go of my backpack straps, but inched closer to me as a loud, sloppy pack of frat boys walked by us.

Jed lumbered over to us, dramatically sighing out as he draped an arm around my shoulder, nearly spilling the beer he had in his hands onto my shirt. "Where were you guys? Did you park all the way back in Chicago?"

"We parked at Eck. So, basically, yeah," I let out a hollow chuckle, shimmying out from under his beefy arm so I could slide my backpack off my shoulders. I already needed a drink, and thankfully we were at a place where beer could be part of breakfast.

"So, Em is getting held up with her soccer crew," Jed said, digging his hands into the pockets of his shorts. "She'll be here eventually, I guess."

"She just messaged me," Kiernan added. "I might go meet up with her in a bit, but I suppose I can stick around for now."

She slid me a coy grin, and I returned it. It wasn't like I intended to be flirty, but between the atmosphere, the alcohol, and that little white tennis skirt she wore, it was hard not to.

One of Jed's former teammates, Davis Klein, sauntered up to us and gestured to Kiernan. "No way she was in South Bend with you guys the whole time."

Jed perked up. "No, but that doesn't mean you can-"

"She's Em's friend from work," I cut him off, kneeling down and turning my head down into my backpack as I dug through the ice for a beer.

"Who was under the impression I'd be treated to a good time," Kiernan chirped, sending a comically challenging glance at Davis. "Where is it?"

I handed her a can of High Noon, casting a grin up at her. "Slow your roll. We'll get there."

Davis hovered beside Kiernan, far less discreet about his flirting endeavors than I would have been. "So, where'd you go to school?"

"In Connecticut."

Kiernan kept her tone casual as she seemed almost purposefully preoccupied with popping open the can. She knew what she was doing. Davis didn't.

"Where in Connecticut?" Davis pressed.

"New Haven."

"You can just say Yale, Kiernan." Jed gave her a comical little pat on the head. "They were bound to find out that you were smart at some point."

"Well, shit," Davis huffed out, and the Oklahoma accent came through. "Are you down for a game of flip-cup, Kiernan From Connecticut?"

Kiernan hesitated just long enough for me to notice and subtly slid a wary glance my way.

I finally rose to my feet with a groan, cursing my bad first baseman knees. "We are, yeah."

Davis and Jed walked over to the folding table they'd set up beside Davis's truck and were joined by a few of their other former teammates and whoever they'd brought to the game. After all, this wasn't just any game - it was the home opener, and it was just one big party.

Kiernan nudged me. "Just so you know, I get sneaky drunk."

I snickered into my drink. "Noted."

When we moved to join Jed and the rest of them at the table where they were setting up flip cup, I noticed Davis purposefully making space beside him, where I assumed the vacant spot wasn't intended for me. I swiftly took Kiernan's shoulders and guided her to the other side of the table between me and Jed. I didn't dislike Davis, but didn't like the way he eyed Kiernan from across the table either.

"I hope you're also a competitive drunk," I said as I handed her a full cup for our first round. "I don't like losing."

"Competitive is my default setting. You have nothing to worry about."

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Apparently I also got sneaky drunk. Although, I'd chalk most of that up to powering through two games of flip cup (both of which we won) and a few card games. I was down to nothing but half-melted ice in my backpack, but thankfully the baseball tailgate was well-stocked, and I was done fraternizing with the football team.

"You know, you don't have to come with me," I told Kiernan after finishing my last beer. "I mean you can, of course, but, ya know..."

"I'm not going to willingly hang out with a brood of football players, Montana," Kiernan said with a flick of her wrist. "Besides, Emelia's text said she'd meet us over at the baseball tailgate."

"Em should've met us hours ago," I grumbled, shrugging on my empty backpack. "She might've been able to keep Jed from icing everyone with a pulse."

Kiernan glanced back at Jed and Davis, who might have actually resorted to playing Go Fish. "Shouldn't we tell them we're leaving?"

I barked out a laugh. "In the spirit of being at Notre Dame, I think we deserve an Irish exit. Jed will find us eventually."

"I wouldn't be surprised if he's microchipped you."

"You know, I do have this unexplainable scar on the inside of my left arm." I held out my arm and pointed at it.

Kiernan grabbed my forearm for further inspection. "Yep, totally microchipped."

As we laughed, half walked and half stumbled away from the football tailgate, she kept hold of my arm.

It was a short walk across the lot to where my graduating class of baseball alumni had their tailgate set up, nearly identical to Jed and Davis's. Our former pitcher Brandt was the first to spot us, waving me over excitedly. Brandt was a good guy, and I'd always assumed we'd be closer friends if he hadn't moved back to Charlotte after we graduated to go work for NASCAR. I saw him maybe once a year, usually in places like this.

"Montana Bennett, have you finally gotten serious?" He greeted me with a gigawatt grin and a slap on the shoulder.

I scoffed. "What are you talking about? I'm always serious, Brandt."

Kiernan, clearly more understanding of the context of Brandt's words, unwound herself from me and extended a hand to him. "I'm Kiernan, and we're not together."

"Oh." I huffed out. "Yeah, no, we're not."

Brandt paused, his gaze darting back and forth a few times between us before shooting finger guns at us. "Oh, uh...whatever you say."

"I see Emelia over there," Kiernan said, and made an understandably speedy exit. After she was out of earshot, I blew out a breath and ran my hand over the top of my hat.

"Is that seriously not anything?" Brandt asked, faintly gesturing to where Kiernan had joined Em under the tent. He handed me a cold beer, the can slick with condensation.

"I met her like three weeks ago," I told him. "She works with Emelia."

"That's not really an answer." Brandt paused and shook his head. "Funny though, I always did kind of think you'd go out with Em, eventually."

I struggled to pop the can open, scowling down at it. "What makes you say that?"

"I had a few of her teammates ask me about your dating life back in sophomore year."

I groaned. "That doesn't mean anything, and that was a long ass time ago."

Brandt was about to say something else when Kiernan rejoined us, this time with Em, who ran up to me and hugged me. She hugged me all the time, but now her arms lingered around my waist.

"How many innocent souls did you let Jed ice?" she asked with a playful grin.

"They weren't innocent, they played football," Kiernan added, and that got a laugh out of us all.

"Oh, I definitely like her," Brandt chuckled.

"Thanks, but flattery doesn't work on me."

Em finally released my waist and leaned up on her toes to kiss my cheek. Em only ever got moderately affectionate when she'd been drinking, but the gesture wasn't lost on me. I found myself glancing over at Kiernan, who maintained an impressive poker face despite being buzzed too. If she was thinking anything of it, I couldn't tell. It was hot, and the alcohol had seemed to muddle us all.

"You've had Kiernan long enough," Em said to me, looping an arm through Kiernan's. "I'm taking her to play beer pong now."

"Good, because my coordination is at its best," she replied, and turned away without a backwards glance.

When they were gone Brandt snorted and shook his head at me.

"What?" I groaned.

"You know what, you son of a bitch." He chuckled, slinging an arm around my shoulders. "But whatever, it's not my business."

I glanced over at Em and Kiernan, who had commandeered one end of the beer pong table and had started the game. It took me a few seconds to realize how intently I had zeroed in on Kiernan, who wasn't even shooting. She just laughed at something Em had said, and maybe it was just the way the sun hit her, but she was radiant. 

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mutual pining?? maybe??