I’m smiling, but a niggling feeling begins to start up around the edges of my heart.

The band begins to play a lively, Celtic version of “Can’t Help Falling,” and my heart clenches. Oh, God, I truly am haunted.

Around me, people start to sing along, an utter wall of sound rolling over me, insisting that some things were meant to be. And I can’t stand it. I can’t stand that Finn isn’t right here with me, laughing in my ear, demanding that I take his hand, that we could be fools together.

He’s been doing that since the beginning. He’s known. He’s been trying to tell me what we were to each other all along. I just hadn’t listened. He might be stubborn, and his refusal to give in a little still pisses me off. But he is mine.

A sob breaks free. And I’m stuck between laughter and crying.

James looks at me sharply. “What’s wrong?”

“The song. Elvis. He’s everywhere.”

James frowns, leaning in so we can talk over the ribald singing. “And that makes you cry?”

I shake my head, tears running down my face. “I love him.”

“Elvis?” Jamie asks, confused.

“Finn. I love Finn. Doesn’t matter where I go…” I lift my hands helplessly toward the band. “He’s my fate.”

James smiles softly. “Your perfectly imperfect.”

“I have to tell him.”

“You will.” James reaches across the table and puts his hand on my trembling one. “Do you want to step out and call him?”

“He’s playing a game right now.” I wipe my cheeks. “I should do it in person.”

“Okay.” James gives me a squeeze. “We’ll get you home as soon as we can.”

Home. I need to go home. The heat of the room and the sound of the band press in on me.

“I have to get out of here,” I tell James. “I can’t breathe. I need to see Finn. I have to…”

“It’s all right,” James says. “Don’t panic.”

My fingers are clumsy as I fish my wallet out of my purse and pull out some bills. “I’m going to take a walk.”

James grabs my wrist. “You’re not going out alone.”

“I grew up in this city, James. I’ll be okay.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he insists. “We’re coming with you.”

He tosses some more money onto the table then sets his empty glass on the pile to secure it. But I can’t wait any longer; I’m halfway across the room by the time James and Jamie catch up to me.

I stumble outside and draw in a deep breath of icy air. It burns going down but I suck in another breath. James and Jamie stand beside me.

“You all right?” Jamie asks, resting a hand on my arm.

“Yeah.” I give her a weak smile. “Sorry for the drama.”

Beneath the lenses of her glasses, her eyes crinkle at the corners. “It’s pretty emotional, falling in love.”

“I shouldn’t have left him. I should have stayed.”

James pulls out a cigarette and lights it. “If leaving meant you finally realized without a doubt that he’s the one, then don’t punish yourself for it.” He takes a drag then lets out a puff of smoke. “Consider it time well spent.”

“I hurt him.”

“Something tells me he’ll forgive you.” James winks at me, then laughs. “My grumpy Chessie bear is dating the quarterback. Will wonders never cease?”

“I think James is a bit jealous,” Jamie teases.

“I’d like to point out that I had a crush on Manny before Chess met Finn, and before I met you.” James flicks the tip of his cigarette. “Now it would be too weird to keep him in the spank bank. I’d start picturing Chess’s disapproving face and…total bone kill.”

“You’re not supposed to have a spank bank now,” I say. “You have Jamie.”

“When I enter my bank, Jamie is always there to watch,” James retorts with an evil grin.

“TMI,” Jamie huffs, pinching him. “You’re going to give Chess indigestion.”

“Well, she’s killed prime fantasy material for me so we’re even.”

I know Jamie is embarrassed on my behalf, but I also know James is trying to distract me. He’s doing a good job of it. We exchange a secret smile between us, one that’s gotten us through a lot of tough times. Gratitude fills me, and I want to hug my best friend. He gives me a little wink in silent reply.

“I’d flip you off,” I say with false annoyance, “but it’s too cold.”

I tuck my icy hands under my arms.

“Come on.” James snuffs his cigarette on the side of the building then tosses the butt into a nearby trash can. “Let’s find a bar and watch your boyfriend play.”

Three doors down, we find a bar that, no surprise to anyone, is showing the game on multiple TVs. Patrons are yelling at the screen and I see that the score is seven to fourteen, and New Orleans is down. Given that Finn’s team is playing against New York, everyone is ecstatic.

We get our beers at the bar and then James finds us a seat by the door, facing one of the TVs, and we sit down as Finn and his offense trot back on the field. I can’t see his face behind the helmet he wears, but just the sight of the number ten on his jersey has my heart clenching.

Although his team is currently losing, he moves with authority, bringing his guys in for a huddle. They’re on their home turf and the crowd chants for Finn. The commentator on the TV spews on about the offense not being at their best in games past and how Finn has struggled throughout the season to regain control.

“That’s why our defense is gonna kick your ass, Manny,” a guy at the bar shouts.

I know it’s not personal; it’s part of the game. But it feels personal. I want to yell at the guy to either put on a uniform and try it or shut the fuck up.

James reads me well. “Easy there, tiger.”

My fingers grip the edges of my chair. “I’m fine.”

On the screen, the next drive begins. I don’t know much about football. Next to nothing really, but watching Finn makes my breath catch and pride swell through my chest. He is beautiful in the way rare and powerful things are.

Finn catches the ball hiked to him by Dex, and then he dances back, his guys protecting him. To me, it’s a scramble, the defense scurrying around like mad ants trying to get him, the offense scurrying like mad ants running this way and that. All the while Finn remains the center of calm.