Some say the games you play after you clinch are meaningless.

I say there are no meaningless games. I’d like to think the fifty thousand fans at our stadium, and the millions watching the Thursday night game of the week, would agree. Our final bout is against a team with a losing record, the St. Louis Thunderbolts. But they don’t play that way. They play tight and tough and close.

We do, too. Rick chews the Big Red and kicks a field goal. Jones wears fresh-as-a-daisy socks and compiles seventy-nine receiving yards and two touchdowns, while Harlan, with his newly shorn locks, gets his feet in the end zone. As for me? Well, let’s just say that freeing the snake hasn’t hurt my game. I’m not perfect, not by any means. I fumble a ball, miss several passes, and get sacked twice. But I play well enough—like someone who can anchor a team for the next four years, which is exactly what I plan on doing.

And when we win tonight, we lock down a 12–4 record for the regular season, and a stadium full of happy fans.

I’m stoked for the victory, but that’s not what I want most to win tonight.

Fortunately, one of the benefits of my position on the team is that the sports reporters usually seek me out first. Tonight, Jillian makes sure of it. As soon as the game ends and the media hits the field, Jillian sends Sierra, the reporter who emceed the auction, to interview me. The perfectly coiffed and polished redhead is working tonight for the network carrying the game and she’s exactly who I want to speak to right now.

I steal a glance at the sidelines, hoping to catch a glimpse of Violet. But the field is too crowded, the stands too stuffed with fans. I can’t make her out, and I have to trust that Trent and Holly are doing their part, right next to my mom, who’s here, too. Their job? Don’t let Violet leave, and make sure she tunes into the post-game on her phone.

Sierra fires off a few standard game questions, and I answer Crash Davis-style, then she switches gears. “And now, for the talk of the town. Word is you’re re-upping with the Renegades, and they’ve offered you a four-year contract. Can you tell us more about that?”

I flash a smile as I answer. “I couldn’t be happier to stay, and none of this would be possible without an owner like Jasper Scott, who’s committed to putting the best team on the field, and to Mike Greenhaven, who knows exactly what to do with that team. I’m grateful to the owner and the coach and the entire organization for giving me the chance to stay on.”

In my peripheral vision, Jillian motions to Sierra, giving her some kind of signal to ask the next question. “And is there any particular reason that you want to stay here in San Francisco?”

I can’t help it. I grin like a man in love. I’m not sure what Violet will say to this public declaration. But I think I saw it in her eyes yesterday when I made love to her against the door. A look then that said she felt the same crazy beating in her heart that I felt in mine. That I still feel when I think of her.

For now, I say goodbye to the Crash Davis school of media relations and speak from the heart. “It’s about a girl. Sometimes that’s what makes a man want to stay. I love the fans, I love the city, and I love that my family is here. But more than that, there’s someone in this town who I’m madly in love with.”

Sierra’s green eyes light up. “Do tell.”

I’m not going to confess on national TV all the details of how we started. All anyone needs to know is the girl they think I’m with is the girl I want. “I hope she wants to stay with me. I hope she wants to be with me for a whole lot longer than the contract I just signed.” Now I turn to the camera, since I’m not talking to Sierra anymore. I’m talking to the woman I hope is watching on her phone at the fifty-yard line.

Behind me, teammates and reporters stream across the field, while fans cheer as they make their way out of the stadium. But my world is small now. My words are for one person only. “Violet, I’ve been falling in love with you since high school, and it’s not stopping. I fall more for you every single day. I want you to be mine, to keep being mine, every night. I don’t want this to end. Ever.”

Sierra brings her hand to her heart and gasps. “That is so sweet. I love it when the quarterback falls in love with the hometown girl and stays with her.”

“That’s exactly what I hope is happening in my life.” I glimpse a commotion on the sidelines. I don’t even try to rein in a smile as a sweaty, dirty Jones, still in his uniform, escorts Violet onto the field. That was his job. To go to security in her section, and then bring her to me.

Violet has never looked prettier as she race-walks to me in her jeans and a Renegades sweatshirt. She’s smiling, and she looks as if she’s crying, too.

She picks up the pace, but I won’t let her run to me. I need to run to her.

“Thank you, Sierra. I need to see my girl.”

And I go running to Violet, scooping her up and wrapping her in my arms. I gaze into her eyes and tell her face-to-face what I told the whole world. “I love you so much.”

“Shut up,” she says, but she’s grinning.

“You want me to stop talking?”

“Never, but you’re crazy,” she says, sniffling as she cups my cheeks. “You’re so crazy, and I’m so in love with you, and you better have meant every word.”

I laugh, and happiness floods every corner of my body. “Every. Single. Word.” I press my sweaty forehead to hers then pull back. “I am so ridiculously in love with you they’re going to need a new word for it. I want you to pick out pink polka-dot towels with me, and sing Miley Cyrus, and beat me in Madden, and I want you to be mine. I want you all the time, baby. When I said since high school, I meant it.”

Tears stream from her eyes. She purses her lips then says in a soft, broken voice, “When I said since second grade, I meant it.”

I blink, and now I might be officially stunned. “You did?”

She nods. “I’ve had a crush on you forever, Cooper.” It hits me—that’s why she said she was worried I’d hurt her, because she’s been holding on to this feeling for so many years. “And I never thought this would happen. I never thought you’d feel the same.”

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re amazing.”

“I think when you’ve been in love with someone your whole life, it’s just hard to imagine you’d be so lucky that he’d love you back.”

“Get used to it. You’re getting lucky with me, and you’re getting lucky on a regular basis. And this love? It’s only growing stronger. I love you in every single way,” I say, planting kisses all over her gorgeous face, kissing away her tears.

“It’s the same for me. I’ve been crazy about you forever, but since the auction, it’s gone into the stratosphere. I’ve loved getting to know you more, even when it was pretend. Because it was never pretend for me.”

“You want to get to know me more tonight? There are some parts that you don’t know well enough, as far as I’m concerned.”

She laughs and presses a kiss to my lips. “I want to get to know all of you so very well.”

“How would you feel about coming over tonight? And spending Christmas with me? And going out with me on dates, and putting up with me when we lose, and putting up with me when we win, and letting me do whatever I can to help you with your business so I can support you, too, as you dream, create, love, and listen?”

Her bottom lip quivers as she nods. “I would say you really ought to take me out of here very soon because there’s a good chance I’m going to do indecent things to you on the field.”

“You better do indecent things to me,” I say, and then I kiss her under the lights of the stadium, and judging from the bright pops and flashes, this picture will be splashed all over social media in about thirty seconds.

And it’s all real.

It’s the most real thing I’ve ever felt, and I make sure she knows that as I kiss her like crazy in front of fifty thousand fans.