Chapter 22

Sienna’s Pov :

There’s something about Sundays in Indiana that feels heavier than most. Maybe it’s the way the sky turns a muted gray, as if even the weather knows something big is about to happen. Or maybe it’s the anticipation humming under my skin as I stand in front of my bathroom mirror, fixing the loose strands of my hair for the fourth time.

Today isn’t about me.

It’s about Camden.

But somehow, my thoughts keep drifting to Caitlin.

We’re going to Lucas Oil Stadium together. Her idea. Camden managed to score us box seats—something about players getting a limited number of passes for family or close friends. Caitlin had grinned when she told me we were going together using her car, all teeth and mischief, and then shrugged when I raised a brow.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she’d said. “It’d be easier if we just go together. Saves time and energy, get what I’m saying?”

I’d rolled my eyes, but I’d smiled too. It’s strange—how easily she’s folded herself into my life. Not like an invader, but like someone who just… fit. Seamlessly. Comfortably. Like she was always meant to be there.

By the time I meet Caitlin in the lobby, I’ve changed my outfit twice and redone my eyeliner once. She’s in jeans and a Colts sweatshirt, her hair pulled back in a ponytail. She greets me with a lazy smile that does dangerous things to my composure. When she opens the door to her car and gestures to the passenger seat, I slide in without thinking.

“Ready for some football, Sunshine?”

That nickname again. I pretend to roll my eyes, but my smile betrays me. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

The drive is quiet, but not uncomfortably so. It’s the kind of silence that feels like a held breath—soft, loaded, waiting. Caitlin hums along to the radio, fingers tapping absently on the steering wheel. Her other hand rests on her thigh, and somehow, my hand finds hers. I don’t think. I just… do it.

She glances over at me, but doesn’t say anything. Her fingers are warm and strong, calloused and real, and without thinking, I start tracing idle circles along the back of her hand.

“You’re going to make me crash,” she mutters, a smirk pulling at her lips.

“You’re doing fine,” I reply, voice low.

“Barely.”

Still, she doesn’t pull away. Her grip even tightens slightly, grounding me.

“I used to do this with my mom during long car rides,” I admit. “I’d trace patterns on her hand. It used to calm me down.”

Caitlin doesn’t say anything at first, just gives a soft, almost unnoticeable nod. “And now I’m your emotional support hand?”

“Pretty much.”

She laughs, and the sound fills the car like sunlight breaking through clouds.

Lucas Oil Stadium rises into view like a monument. It feels bigger today. Or maybe that’s just me. The moment we step inside, the air changes—thick with energy, buzzing with expectation. Fans rush around us in a sea of blue and white, faces painted, voices raised. Camden’s name flashes on the big screen during warmups, and something tightens in my throat.

“I haven’t seen him play live in over two years,” I murmur.

Caitlin leans close, her voice steady. “He knows you’re here.”

“I hope that means something.”

“It does,” she says simply.

We settle into our seats. Caitlin sits beside me, her knee brushing mine, her presence calm and grounding. When Camden jogs out of the tunnel, helmet in hand, I can’t help it—I stand up, screaming his name like some obsessed fan. He glances up toward our box, and I swear, for a second, he smiles.

The game kicks off. Caitlin’s hand rests on my thigh—casual, natural—and I let it. Her thumb draws slow lines over the denim of my jeans, and I pretend not to notice the way my breath catches every time she does it.

Second quarter. Camden throws a perfect spiral into the end zone, and I lose it. I’m yelling, grabbing Caitlin’s arm, laughing like a little kid.

“He definitely heard that,” she teases.

We watch the rest of the game in a daze of noise and adrenaline. Camden takes a hit that looks brutal, and my heart leaps into my throat. Caitlin notices immediately.

“He’s fine. That guy’s built like a tank,” she reassures, squeezing my hand.

I nod, but I don’t let go. My fingers curl around hers a little tighter than I mean to.

The Colts win by three. The stadium erupts. Camden’s swarmed by reporters and teammates, his jersey damp with sweat and glory. Eventually, he looks up again—this time spotting us. When his eyes land on me, he grins. Then he sees Caitlin, and his brows lift slightly. But it only takes a second before he jogs over to the sideline near our box and holds up a hand.

Caitlin smiles and heads down to meet him near the railing. He reaches up and daps her.

“What’s up, Baller?” Camden says. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“She dragged me,” Caitlin says with a nod in my direction.

Camden smirks. “Figures.”

After the game, we walk together to a bar not far from the stadium. The place is packed, Colts fans buzzing in post-win euphoria. But Camden’s a name now, and we’re ushered into a quieter VIP section, tucked away from the chaos.

Beers appear. Then shots. We toast. To football, to family, to figuring shit out.

Camden gets pulled away by a couple of teammates. Caitlin disappears to the bar to grab another round.

My eyes scan the bar and that’s when I see her.

Caitlin. On the dance floor. Laughing with some woman. Tall. Curvy. Confident. They’re dancing close—too close—and when the woman leans in to say something in Caitlin’s ear, Caitlin throws her head back and laughs, fingers grazing the woman’s waist.

Something sharp twists in my chest.

I sip my drink. Watch. Wait.

I have a boyfriend, I remind myself. A good one.

But that doesn’t stop the jealousy from blooming.

“You good?” Camden’s voice breaks my spiral.

I turn, startled. He’s holding a beer, brow furrowed.

“Yeah, just… watching,” I mumble.

He follows my gaze. Sees Caitlin. Sees the woman.

He pauses. “You like her.”

“No,” I say too quickly. Too defensively.

He raises an eyebrow.

I look away, taking a breath. “It’s not like that.”

“Sienna.”

“We kissed,” I say, barely above a whisper. “After her game against Seattle. The night you, Mia, and I went together. You remember that night, right? I got in the car and didn’t say anything. You guys were worried, but you didn’t push.”

Camden stills, quiet.

“It happened in the restroom,” I say, eyes fixed on the table. “We had a heated and tense conversation. She confessed how she liked me more than just a friend and one thing led to another, and she just… kissed me. It wasn’t planned. It just happened.”

His voice is gentle when he asks, “Did you kiss back? And did you like it?”

I nod slowly, a whisper slipping past my lips. “Yes. I kissed back and… God, Cam, I never thought I’d like kissing a girl. I never thought kissing the same gender would feel amazing. But it did. It really did. And then I felt guilty, because I have Joseph and he’s a good guy.”

Camden doesn’t speak for a while. Just lets it hang between us, the noise of the bar muffled by the weight of what I’ve said.

“I didn’t tell you or Mia because I didn’t know what it meant,” I admit. “I still don’t.”

“Do you regret it, Cupcake?”

I close my eyes.

“No.”

Camden lets out a breath. “Sienna…”

“I know. I know I’m not being fair. To myself. To my boyfriend. To her.”

I glance back at the dance floor.

Caitlin’s not dancing anymore.

She’s looking for me.

Our eyes lock.

And just like that, the air shifts again—like it always does with her.

My heart betrays me.

I look away.

Camden nudges my shoulder gently. “You’ve got a storm coming. You better figure out where you want to stand before it hits.”

Authors Note :

Oh how I love this book with my whole heart, Sienna and Caitlin are my babies fr and I’m glad that I decided to write this book the emotional rollercoaster is getting to me y’all and I’m glad y’all are loving this book and thank you for reading, sorry if this doesn’t make sense y’all. I wanna dedicate this special chapter to my bestie wbblover_ cause I love my bestie and I hope this gets you through your Ap testing bestie love ya <3. Anyways stay happy y’all.

XoXo V 💜💜💜