Mike

I stood there, helmet in hand, ready to face another game. But my mind wasn’t on touchdowns or tackles—it was on her. Our team’s athletic trainer, moved with grace along the sidelines. Her fiery red hair caught the light, and her eyes held a determination that matched any player on the field. We’d been dancing around each other for months, stealing glances during practice, sharing secret smiles when no one was looking. But this was different. This was real. Our love was forbidden. The team had strict rules against fraternization, especially between players and staff. But when her fingers brushed mine as she wrapped my ankle, I knew I couldn’t stay away any longer. I played not just for victory but for her—for the stolen kisses in the equipment room, for the late-night texts that made my heart race, for the way her laughter echoed through my dreams. This was our secret, our love story hidden behind the goalposts.