The entire school was at the football stadium. Or at least, that's what it felt like. Everyone was buzzing at the prospect of their star quarterback being back on the field, and no one wanted to miss his debut back into the limelight. The second that security started letting people in the stadium, it was bombarded by rowdy college students and townies intent on losing their voice from screaming as loud as possible.

As a part of the pregame tradition, I went to the locker room to listen to Coach speak to the team. I stood near the back behind layers of people and listened his words of encouragement reverberate throughout the circle gathered around Coach Baxter. As the boys started getting excited, they began shuffling on their feet, and a small gap opened up between the bodies that connected my gaze to Vincent's.

He was already looking at me. His lips curled up when my gaze met with his, and even though it was a split second, time went in slow motion. The lightness that burst in his eyes like a splash in a still pool, so sudden and obvious from across the room, took my breath away. The upward curl of his lips didn't help either as he smiled at me softly.

But the moment that seemed to last a lifetime ultimately ended, and I lost my unobstructed view of Vincent's smile. The boys began their pregame ritual of chants-- Vincent led them, of course-- and in the end, they were practically jumping around in the locker room and slamming against the metal lockers until they rattled.

As the boys filed out, Vincent stopped beside me and watched the guys pass us. "So, are you going to give me a good luck kiss?"

I couldn't help my smile from immediately spreading, although I gave my full effort to try to suppress it. "You seem to want a kiss for everything these days. Goodbye, good luck, where does it end?"

When I finish speaking, I cast a sideways glance in Vincent's direction and see him giving me the same stunning smile as earlier. The look in his eyes only forced my heart to beat faster, and it didn't matter that fully padded players were running past me out the door, or that their pump up playlist had suddenly switched on. Everything, and everyone, was muted.

Except Vincent.

"If they're so limited, then I'd like to actually save mine for when I drop you back at your place after our date," He says in a lower voice, one more filled with emotion and huskiness.

My gaze dropped to his lips, which were still caught somewhere between a smile and a smirk, before I forced my eyes back up to meet his. The sexual tension between us was palpable, and all I wanted to do was kiss up against these lockers. And right before I almost did, I was brought back to reality.

"Any day, Bradshaw," Coach Baxter says in amusement. "It's time to make your big debut."

The mute was lifted in an instant, and everything was fast paced again. The boys had emptied the locker room to leave only us and some staff members left. My cheeks warmed when Coach Baxter spared me a long glance with the beginnings of a smirk, but Vincent grabbed my hand with a wide grin and pulled me out of the room.

Everyone was waiting eagerly in the tunnel to run out with the sounds of fans hooting and hollering in the stands as disruptive background music. Instead of joining the group of boys, Vincent moved me against the wall, just out of sight from everyone, and pinned my body against it with his own.

Our breaths were moving together as I look up at him with confusion swirling in my eyes, but he just continued to smile down at me. One of his hands moves to my waist while the other slowly trails up the side of my body until it reaches my neck, and with one last look at his grin, Vincent leans down and kisses me.

My body reacted immediately as I grabbed the front of his jersey to pull him even closer and shifted to my tip-toes to try to match his height. His tongue caressed mine gently in a more tender yet passionate kiss than I would have ever expected from him. The emotion from his kiss was reflected in his body language as he rubs the exposed skin on my waist with his thumb slowly before moving his hand to the small of my back to draw me closer.

When the warmth of Vincent's mouth left mine, I looked up at him in a starry eyed gaze, wondering why the hell he stopped. It took me a minute of staring at him in his jersey to remember exactly where we were, and for the second time in the past five minutes, I realized that he had made me melt away from reality and only focus on him.

"I couldn't wait," Vincent breathed, his hot breath fanning my cheeks.

I smiled up at him. "I'm glad you didn't."

He lets out an airy laugh before asking, "Does this mean I used up my kiss for after our date?"

"I'll make an exception," I say quickly-- too quickly, actually-- and then feel my cheeks heat up. "Now go out there and remind everyone why they were putting up with O'Donnell the last few weeks."

Vincent grins brightly. "Anything for you, Lil."

I think we both felt the immense loss of each others bodies pressed against our own, but we were both too happy to let it dent the smiles on our lips. Vincent rejoined his teammates moments before they all head out onto the field, successfully raising the volume of the cheers immediately.

The crowd kept the energy up in the stadium throughout the entire first half. Both teams had met their match; our defensive line kept their offense from gaining many yards, and theirs stopped us from scoring as frequently as we should have. By halftime, we were tied 10-10, both of our teams barely putting anything up on the scoreboard.

I had to stay on the field to work with some of the players who were trying to walk off injuries that they had received in-game, but the entire team stormed the field with a new sense of confidence. Trevor and Andrew both looked amped up when they reentered the field, and Vincent looked more determined than ever.

I knew this was a big game for him. Not only was it his first game back, but Brady had somehow secured our team in a position to enter the playoff series. He had put countless hours of PT into his last few weeks of recovery so that he could preform as well as possible in this game. I could tell he was frustrated that our team wasn't in the lead, but he was more determined than angry.

"Good luck," I say as he passes me to go sit on the bench.

Vincent grins at me. "I don't need luck," He says as he sits on the edge of the bench, which was the closest seat to me. "We're going to pull this win off."

I smile at his confidence, but I hear my name being called faintly in the distance, which ultimately turns my grin into a frown as I turn to find the culprit. When I see Jane, she's pushing through a bunch of people on the sideline-- including security, who is telling her to get off the field-- to reach me.

My heart drops when I see her. Somehow, I knew something was off. The distress in her voice and expression made my heart fall into the depths of my chest as my mind begins to reel to the worst case scenario. I knew it was Danny before I even turned around, before I even processed what the hell was happening.

"Lily!" She shouts, the same time a security guard finally catches up to her and wraps his large arm around the front of her waist to pull her backwards.

I start walking toward her, but my walk quickly turns into a run as I sprint past the length of the bench on the sideline and meet her. I could hear Vincent following behind me but could only focus on Jane and the throbbing feeling in my chest. A horrible feeling continued to creep into my body with every step closer I took to get to Jane, and when I finally had, my heartbeat was so loud that it was ringing in my ears.

"It's Danny," She says in between breaths, still trying to fight her way out of the security guards grasp.

Her words confirmed my worst fears.

"Ma'am, do you know her?" The security guard asked hesitantly, his gaze flashing between me and Vincent behind me.

"She's fine," Vincent answers quickly. "Let her go."

"She can't be back here--" The guard continues, all while I stand there silently, my head spinning and heart racing, trying to process Jane's words.

"I said she's fine," Vincent barks at him. "Go talk to Coach Baxter if you don't believe me."

While security finally lets go of Jane, she practically leaps at me and grabs my hand. I feel Vincent come closer and put his hand on my back, but I continued to stand there silently for a moment more.

My vision had gotten spotty the second my mind went to the realm of Danny not being okay, and as I stood up in front of both of them, I was positive that I was going to pass out. Noises somehow became softer, but instead of the silent bliss I experienced earlier during my kiss from Vincent, the softened audio felt deafening.

In an instant, I regained my composure and felt myself jerk away from Vincent. "I have to go home," I breathe immediately, and Jane nods.

"I'll drive you," She tells me instantly. "My car is outside the stadium."

I didn't even have the time or willpower to refuse her offer, but instead nodded and began walking toward the exit. After two steps, I felt a gloved hand grab mine, and turned to see Vincent staring at me with pools of emotion swimming in his eyes.

"Lily..." He says, and suddenly I realize why.

It was his big game. He couldn't come with me.

This realization stung. Not because I expected him to drop everything that he was doing to join me-- after all, he had been working toward this comeback game for weeks, and playing football was the most important thing in his life. But because out of everyone in the entire world, I wanted him by my side, and he couldn't be. And I understood why he couldn't be.

I half wished that I could be irrational and get angry at him for not joining me. Maybe that would make it easier. But I understood the depth of the situation, even in my moment of distress, and I knew that I couldn't take him away from his game.

"It's okay," I force the words out of my dry mouth in a croak. I wanted to add something else to make myself sound more genuine, but I couldn't possibly manage anything else.

A referee blows his whistle, and I hear the Coach start to call Vincent toward the huddle. They were about to start the third quarter.

When I looked into Vincent's eyes, I realized how torn he looked. "I can't leave," He finally says reluctantly. His voice was thick and full of the same emotions mirrored in his eyes, and I could see the distress on his features.

"Don't worry," I say, for a lack of anything else, and pull my hand out of his. My mind was reeling, and I didn't have the clarity to explain to him that I understood. I just knew I had to get home.

I turned around and started chasing Jane down the sidelines in an attempt to catch up to her, all while feeling Vincent's eyes burn a hole through my back. The crowd around me was in an uproar as the second half started, but I couldn't look anywhere except forward. There was only one thing that mattered.

Danny.