The rough texture of Kevin’s duffel bag strap dug into his palm, waiting to be let off the bus with a frantic and fluttering feeling beneath his skin. His nerves felt like they were on fire.

The door released its air pressure, the Foxes filing out in an unorganized and frankly inefficient manner. Kevin filed out behind, his gaze flickering across the parking lot.

He knew he wouldn’t find you. You’d be changing in the locker rooms with the rest of your team—

Or not.

He startled, hands flying to try and steady you as limbs tangled together and struggled to stay standing with the force of the embrace.

“Hey.” He said, a bit breathless. He was acutely aware of the team watching, and had to physically fight the urge to yank away.