Page 62 of How To Tackle A Crush
Just someone who trusted the moment enough to stop thinking.
Her glasses are pressing awkwardly into her cheek where she’s leaning against me.
That can’t be comfortable.
I hesitate.
Touching her feels like a line. Even if it’s practical.
But leaving them like that feels worse.
So very carefully, I reach up and slide them off.
She shifts slightly, breath catching for a second, her fingers tightening briefly in my jumper like she’s checking where she is. Then she relaxes again, settling closer for a moment before going still.
Right.
I hold the glasses for a second, then carefully tuck them into the pocket of my jacket so they don’t get bent.
Problem solved.
Mostly.
Kieran turns around in his seat about ten minutes later.
“Gaffer.”
“What?”
He nods toward Ava. “You want us to put a blanket over you two or—”
“If you finish that sentence you’re doing extra sprints tomorrow.”
He considers that. “Worth asking.”
“Eyes forward, Kieran.”
He shrugs, but the grin on his face says this will be all over the dressing room in minutes.
The hours pass in that strange way long coach journeys do. Motorway noise. Music from someone’s headphones leaking badly. Periodic debates about music taste. Someone arguing about protein intake. Someone else loudly planning what they’re ordering for dinner like they haven’t eaten in weeks.
Through all of it Ava sleeps.
At one point she shifts again and I feel her breath against my throat. Warm. Steady. Completely unaware she’s doing it.
Don’t read into it.
She’s just tired.
Still.
My phone buzzes once with a message from Mum asking if we’ve left yet.
That thought grounds me immediately.
This is just… a quiet moment.
Nothing more.
