Page 94 of Playing the Field

Something flickers across her face. “You really believe that?”

I tilt my head. “You don’t?”

She exhales, shaking her head. “I don’t know. Houston’s a machine.”

I step closer, resting my hands on the edge of her desk. “Machines break, Anastasia.”

Her lips twitch, but she doesn’t look away.

I tap a finger against her desk. “This team is stronger than people think. They’re hungry. And now? They have something to prove.”

She exhales slowly. “So do you.”

I nod. “Yeah. So do I.”

A beat of silence.

Then—

She studies me, something unreadable in her eyes. “You really love this team, don’t you?”

I let out a quiet breath. “Yeah. I do.”

Her lips part slightly, something soft and almost vulnerable flickering across her face.

And for a moment, I want to kiss her.

I want to lean in, close the space between us, remind her that this isn’t just about rugby or strategy or contracts.

But I don’t.

Because this isn’t the moment for that.

Instead, I push off the desk, my voice quieter now. “Go home, Bellows.”

She raises a brow. “That an order, Callahan?”

I smirk. “Consider it strong advice.”

She exhales, shaking her head, but there’s something lighter in her expression now.

Something that tells me maybe—just maybe—we’re finally figuring out how to move forward.

I turn to leave, but before I step through the door, I pause.

“You coming to the game?” I ask.

She lifts a brow. “That’s part of my job, isn’t it?”

I hold her gaze. “That’s not what I asked.”

Her lips press together. Then, slowly, she nods.

“I’ll be there.”

I smirk, nodding once before heading out, already thinking ahead to Saturday.

Because this game?

This is going to be the test.

Not just for the Tigers.

Not just for the strategy we’ve built.

But for me and Anastasia.

And for the first time, I feel like maybe—just maybe—we’re ready for it.