Breaking the Grid

Ouch

I closed the door to Kyra's house gently, letting out a slow, shaky breath as the lock clicked into place behind me. The late afternoon air was crisp, the faint warmth of the sun lingering in the quiet neighborhood. I pulled my coat tighter around myself and headed toward the waiting taxi, my shoes tapping lightly against the pavement. My mind raced, replaying every moment of the past few hours like a whirlwind I couldn't stop.

The scent of her sheets, the way her voice sounded this morning—soft, almost shy—echoed in my head. You can stay here until the game, she'd said, standing by the door with her arms crossed like she was bracing herself. I could only nod, my throat too tight to manage words.

Sliding into the taxi, I caught my reflection in the window—a mixture of excitement and nerves written across my face. My phone buzzed as I buckled in, Kimi's name flashing across the screen. Opening the messages, I couldn't help but laugh at the dumb selfies he'd sent: him and Oliver pulling exaggerated faces, probably during another chaotic adventure.

Kimi: "Are you breathing yet, or do I need to send more memes?"
I typed back quickly, smiling despite myself.
Me: "I'm alive, thanks for the support call earlier. You're insufferable."
Kimi: "Insufferable genius, thank you."

I set the phone aside and reached for the bottle of water beside me, taking a sip to steady my nerves. My chest tightened as I thought back to the surprise I'd left for Kyra before heading out. Cleaning her house had been the easy part—methodical, almost soothing in its rhythm. But it was what came after that had my heart hammering.

After grabbing what I needed from the store, I had spent the better part of the afternoon carefully arranging everything: setting the table with her favorite flowers, lining up the candles, and planning the perfect way to ask her. Dinner had been simple but thoughtful—chicken Alfredo pasta, something I knew she'd like without making it seem overly fancy. I wanted it to feel like us.

Every detail had been deliberate, down to the placement of the silverware and the handwritten note I tucked under her plate. I hoped it wasn't too much—or too little. The truth was, I wanted this. I wanted her. More than I'd ever wanted anything in my life.

The taxi pulled up to my house, and I stepped out, glancing back at my reflection in the car window. This is it, Becks. No turning back now.

The taxi pulled up just outside the stadium, and I hurried toward the family entrance, clutching my coat tightly against the biting cold. The energy of match day surrounded me—chants echoing in the distance, scarves waving, and fans crowding the streets. I had Kyra's shirt on underneath my coat, hidden from view, not just because of the chill but because it felt oddly personal. Almost like a secret.

I slipped through the family entrance with only three minutes to spare, missing the pre-match warmups. Not a big deal, but I regretted not being here earlier. The staff directed me to my seat, and as I entered the family area, I immediately spotted Amanda, Leah's mom, seated comfortably near the front.

"Blair, honey!" Amanda called out, her face lighting up as she recognized me.

"Amanda!" I made my way over quickly, grinning as she stood to give me a warm hug.

"You're cutting it close," she teased, pulling back to look at me. "But you made it, and that's all that matters."

"Barely," I admitted, laughing. "It's good to see you."

We settled into our seats, the crowd around us growing louder as the start of the game neared. My name was being called out by fans nearby—excited whispers and outright yells, but I kept my focus on Amanda.

"I hear you've been keeping busy," Amanda said, leaning in slightly to hear me over the noise. "Leah mentioned you're all over the place these days."

"Yeah, it's been a lot," I said honestly. "But I wouldn't miss this for anything."