Page 116 of The No Try Zone
She doesn’t miss a beat. “When was this?”
“Six months ago. We didn’t know each other, but she sat next to me at a bar, and she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.” I don’t bother calling on anyone else, deciding to lay the entire story out for them. “We spent the rest of the night going from place to place, and when we found ourselves at an Elvis pop-up wedding chapel on the Strip, it seemed perfectly reasonable to get married.”
The reporters laugh.
“So we did. And when I woke up the next morning, I made the biggest mistake of my life. I left.”
“Youwhat?” Amy’s voice cuts through the noise.
“I know. Asshole move, right?” I smile wryly, then lean forward. “I was scared. I’d just been given this job, and the message was clear: no distractions. Get the team to the championship and win it. No exceptions. No excuses.”
“How’s that going, Coach?” another reporter asks.
I grin back. “Only one loss, so I’d say we’re doing pretty good. But,” I grow serious again, “that’s not what this is about. I called this conference because I’m tired of being scared. I’ve spent months pretending that Sam and I aren’t married. Months pretending that I haven’t been falling for her with every moment I spend with her. But the truth is…” I swallow and gather my courage, only to find I don’t need to. Admitting my feelings for Sam, it turns out, is incredibly easy when I no longer care about the consequences. I lean closer to the microphones. “I love her. I love her so much that it hurts. Like, a physical pain.” I touch my chest. “Any of you feel like that?”
A few people’s hands raise, and I smile.
“Glad to know I’m not the only one, then.”
“This is so sweet,” Amy says. “But you’ve got a lot of apologizing to do.”
“Indeed I do,” I say, straightening. “So. Any questions?”
I spend the next fifteen minutes answering questions, but declining to name the player who harassed Sam. I know enough that if Sam wants to say something, she will. It’s one thing to punch the asshole, but it’s another to take Sam’s agency. On the other hand, I will absolutely be reporting him to USA Rugby. Today will be the last day he wears a rugby jersey.
When it’s over, I stand, thanking everyone and adjusting my tie, grateful for the bright lights being turned off as I step off the dais.
“Colin.”
A shiver runs down my spine. Because there she is, the woman I’m desperately in love with, dressed in slacks and a dark pink top, almost as tall as me in heels. But it’s the tears in her eyes that stop me in my tracks. “Sam.”
She sniffs, looking around the room that now holds only the two of us, along with Neesha, Amy and Sullivan Adams. “Did you really mean all that?”
“I did.” And then, because I see the way she’s trembling and fighting to keep it together, I murmur, “Please don’t cry.”
A single tear tracks down her cheek at my command. I close the distance between us, thumbing the tear away and blinking back my own.
“You love me?” she asks.
I cup her cheeks, determined to have as much of her as she’s willing to give. “I love you. You deserve so much more than those words, but of course I love you.”
She leans her cheek into my palm, her hands coming to rest on my forearms. “How long?”
“How long have I been utterly head over heels for you? Or how long have I been a complete and total ass who didn’t realize what a gift you are? Not that it matters. Because the answer is the same.”
She studies me, her ice-blue eyes shining. Another tear escapes and I thumb it away. “And?”
“Since the night we met, Samantha.”
Her eyes flare wide. “What?”
I nod. “You were my fantasy come to life. Beautiful, brave, and utterly fearless. Trusting and loyal, even though I’d done nothing to deserve it. We both broke our rules that night, but what I did by leaving you the next morning? That was unforgivable. I’ll never be able to apologize enough. And I don’t expect your forgiveness. I don’t deserve it.”
She silences me with a kiss. It’s so unexpected that I go still, unsure of what’s happening, before returning the kiss. With enthusiasm.
She giggles, her lips curving against mine as I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her tight. “Easy, Coach,” she warns. “People are watching.” Her eyes sparkle as she takes my face in her hands. “Reporter people, actually.”
“I don’t care,” I murmur, leaning to nuzzle the spot just behind her ear that always smells like the beach. “You kissed me. You’re letting me kiss you. Nothing matters.”
