Page 88 of Hometown Halftime

“Coach,” she says breathlessly, “Tara thinks she’s gonna throw up.”

I laugh. “That’s normal.”

“She says if she vomits on the field she’s quitting the team forever.”

“She’ll survive.”

Brooke nods solemnly. “That’s what I told her, but she’s still freaking out.”

I squeeze her shoulder before heading farther toward midfield, where Riley is standing. He glances up when he hears me approaching, sunglasses hiding his eyes, and just like that, my stomach flips.

Absolutely ridiculous.

We haven’t really talked about Monday night. Things between us have been different since our little incident. Every accidental touch lasts a second too long now. Every glance feels loaded with something neither of us is fully addressing yet. There’s all this tension between us, but I still don’t know why he stopped things between us that night.

Which means standing here watching him in a Cedar Falls Rugby hoodie while sunlight catches against his glasses is already dangerous for my emotional stability before kickoff even happens.

“Do you feel ready?” he asks, taking his sunglasses off.

I blow out a breath. “Yup.”

He smiles. “Good. Me too.”

Riley steps closer, lowering his voice while the girls continue warming up behind us.

“They’re gonna be okay today. You know that, right? They’re ready.”

I hold my chin high. “I do. They’re definitely ready.”

Before I can say anything else, a familiar voice cuts across the field.

“Coach Malone! Coach Stretch!”

I cringe as Haddie Carmichael power-walks toward us, holding her phone in one hand and an iced coffee in the other. Her bright pink cardigan clashes with literally everything else on her body.

“Absolutely not,” I mutter under my breath.

Riley laughs beside me. “Good luck.”

“Haddie,” I say carefully as she reaches us. “How are you this morning?”

“Excited for the game! The town Facebook page needs a team photo before the game starts.” She gestures toward the girls. “This is a historic event!”

“It’s a high school rugby game.”

“It’s a monumental event that needs to be documented.”

Riley abandons me, walking toward the girls. Coward.

Haddie points toward the team. “I need everybody lined up. Cute but athletic.”

Riley rallies the team and minutes later, the entire team stands awkwardly near the bleachers while Haddie assumes increasingly dangerous angles, taking approximately nine hundred photos.

“Look tougher!” she shouts.

Tara flexes aggressively as Brooke growls toward the camera. We manage to give Haddie what she was hoping for, and she rushes back to the bleachers to sit two rows above my friends. Kate’s daughter, Evie, cackles from the sidelines while Cam unsuccessfully tries to stop her from copying the growling.

But they aren’t the only ones I see. It looks like the entire town came out for the game. I’ve only ever seen the bleachers this full during Friday night football games. I feel a little sappy thinking about how much support this little town can give when it wants to.