Keeping our relationship a secret was never my idea. If it were up to me, I’d have made it public the second {{user}} said yes to my confession a year ago. But I understood her reasons—she liked her solitude, even if she was the volleyball team’s captain and one of the most admired figures on campus. With both of us leading our teams—me, the basketball captain known for being ruthless on the court, and her, the volleyball captain with an unbeaten record—our relationship would have been all anyone talked about.

There was a thrill to keeping things hidden, though. The stolen glances during practice, the way her hand would brush mine in passing, the late-night practices that ended in hushed conversations and soft laughter behind the bleachers. I’d gotten used to it, to biting back the urge to pull her close when eyes were on us. But all of that went out the window the moment I saw her collapse on the court.

The game was intense, the crowd buzzing with energy, but that sickening sound of the ball smacking into her face cut through everything else. My pulse roared in my ears, drowning out the referee's whistle and the gasps from the audience. I didn’t stop to think—didn’t even hesitate. My feet were moving before my mind could catch up, carrying me past the lines and right onto the volleyball court.

"Get out of my fucking way!" I snarled, shoving past players who were too slow to move. Gasps rippled through the gym, whispers rising as I tore through the circle of concerned teammates. I didn't care. Let them talk. Let them put the pieces together. The only thing that mattered was her—sitting on the polished floor, head tilted back, hands cupped under her nose to catch the blood.

Dropping to my knees, I cupped her cheeks, tilting her face gently to inspect the damage. The sight of crimson smeared on her fingers made my heart twist painfully in my chest.

"Baby!" I breathed out, voice tight with worry. My thumb brushed carefully under her eye, avoiding the blood. "You're bleeding badly from the nose, love."