Page 20 of Falling for the Bombshell (Falling for #1)

The Calm, The Lace, The Chaos to Come

Linnie was curled up beside me, her face pressed lightly into the pillow, one leg tangled in the comforter, the other thrown over my thigh like she just knew that was where it belonged.

I hadn ’ t moved in twenty minutes—maybe longer.

Just laying there. Heart beating way too fast. Every time she shifted in her sleep, a fresh wave of warmth hit my chest. She ’ s here. This is real.

The alarm on my phone buzzed quietly. I silenced it with a tap before it could do its damage.

I didn ’ t want to wake her. Not yet. Instead, I just took her in.

Her soft curls spilled across the pillow, the ends brushing her cheeks.

Her lips were slightly parted, breath slow and even.

The kind of peace that made you believe everything might actually be okay.

Then my gaze drifted—past the bed, to the open suitcase near the wall. She must ’ ve been digging through it last night. A cropped band tee peeked out. A scrunchie. And right on top—soft pink lace.

I blinked, throat dry.

My brain short-circuited for a second, imagining her in that matching set.

The color against her skin. The way her hair would tumble down her back— Focus, Blaine.

She ’ s not just any girl. Don ’ t be that guy.

But that didn ’ t stop the heat crawling up my neck or the way my stomach twisted.

Not with nerves. Not entirely. I ’ d never… I mean, not even close.

No one had ever made me feel like this before.

Not just the want— though yeah, that was definitely there—but the way she saw me.

Like I wasn ’ t just the kid who skipped college or the guy stuck in a family that didn ’ t understand his dream.

With Linnie, I felt more me than I ever had.

What if I messed this up? What if she found out how inexperienced I really was?

That I ’ d never kissed a girl before her.

Never stayed the night. Never let someone this far in.

And this thing with her—it mattered. Way more than I knew how to say.

She stirred beside me, murmuring something sleepy and soft, her fingers brushing across my chest as she rolled over, cheek now resting above my heart.

God.

I let my hand glide lightly down her back, barely a touch, just enough to feel her warmth through the thin fabric of her sleep top. My thumb traced slow circles, calming myself as much as her. She blinked her eyes open, squinting a little at the morning light.

“ Hey,” she whispered, voice husky with sleep.

“ Hey.” I smiled like an idiot. “ Sleep okay?”

“ Mmhmm. Comfy,” she said, yawning into my chest. “ What time is it?”

“ Almost eight.”

She groaned. “ We have to be down for team breakfast in, like, thirty.”

“ Let ’ s skip it,” I said, mostly kidding. Mostly.

She tilted her face up toward me, smirking. “ Tempting. But you ’ re the star wide receiver. And I ’ m the unofficial hype crew.”

I kissed her forehead, slow and steady. She closed her eyes again and smiled, her fingers brushing along my jaw.

“ You nervous?” she asked.

“ A little,” I admitted.

“ About the game?”

I hesitated. “ About… everything.”

She rolled onto her back, stretched, then sat up slowly. “ Well, for what it ’ s worth… I think you ’ re gonna be amazing tonight. On the field and off.”

I sat up too, just watching her as she crossed the room to her bag .

Her shorts had ridden up a little, another pink lace peeking out over the waistband. She didn ’ t notice, but yeah—I definitely did. My brain hit a dial tone.

She caught me staring and smirked. “ Eyes up, Austin.”

I laughed, rubbing the back of my neck. “ Sorry. Not sorry.”

She tossed me a clean T-shirt and said, “ Get ready, golden boy.

You ’ ve got a game to win.”

I stood, wrapped my arms around her from behind, resting my chin on her shoulder.

“ I really like you, Linnie.”

She leaned back into me, her fingers lacing with mine. “ I really like you too.”

I kissed her shoulder. We moved together like we had a rhythm brushing teeth side by side, taking turns with the bathroom mirror, her making fun of how serious my game face was already.

An underneath it all, this buzzing nervousness.

This hum that ran through me like a current.

Because I didn ’ t want this morning to end.

I didn ’ t want this weekend to end. And if I had anything to say about it, she was going to know exactly how serious I was—on the field tonight, and in every moment after.

The Missoula sky was a deep, electric blue by midmorning—the kind of spring day that buzzed with potential.

The kind of weather that made you want to win.

To live . Linnie was two coffees deep by 10 a.m. and singing along to Taylor Swift ’ s “ ...Ready For It?” as the girls pulled into a boutique on Higgins Avenue, giggling like it wasn ’ t game day and they weren ’ t planning to cause a fashion riot in the stands.

“ I can ’ t believe they turned this around so fast,” Jade said, holding up a bag with her custom shirt inside.

“ They know greatness when they see it,” Linnie winked, stepping out of the Highlander. Her curls bounced, her skin glowed, her whole vibe was sunshine-meets-firecracker. Alive. Lit up from the inside.

Inside the boutique, she went straight for her swimsuit—folded neatly in a gift box.

Burnt orange and navy blue. A bold little two- piece with Austin stitched in the tiniest cursive at the corner of the top.

It was loud. It was ridiculous. It was perfect.

And Blaine was going to lose his mind when he saw it.

Not till tonight. Not yet. The team ’ s post-game pool party was still hours away. But just imagining his face had her practically skipping through the rest of the errands. They grabbed lunch. Grabbed pom poms. Because why not?

Back at the hotel, it was time for the main event—the shirts. Each girl had their guy. Jade wore Crawford #77 in bold red. Cleo had Voight #12 in slate gray. Sadie kept it classic with a simple Billings Bullets tee. But Linnie? Linnie went full send.

A white cropped tee. #15 in glitter gold across the back.

And above that: AUSTIN in block letters.

Simple. Bold. Totally her. She paired it with black high-waisted shorts and white sneakers, tied her curls into a bouncy half-pony, and added shimmer to her cheeks.

Her stomach flipped as she checked herself in the mirror.

Because Blaine was going to see her in this.

Because everyone was.

And even though their secret wasn ’ t really a secret anymore, it still felt like theirs. Something sacred. Something worth protecting.

“ You good?” Sadie asked with a nudge and a knowing smile.

Linnie nodded, dreamily. “ Yeah. I just… really like him.”

“ Good,” Jade grinned, throwing an arm around her. “ Because he ’ s clearly head over cleats for you.”

They got to the field just as warmups were kicking off.

The place was already buzzing—music blasting, kids in face paint, parents waving homemade signs.

The stadium lights were on, even though the sun hadn ’ t dipped below the horizon yet.

Linnie’s eyes scanned the field—and found him.

Blaine. Full burgundy uniform. #15 stretched across his back like it belonged there.

Helmet under his arm. Laughing. Stretching.

Looking like himself. And then—like he felt her—he looked up.

Their eyes locked. His lips parted slightly, not quite a smile yet, more of a what the hell are you wearing and why do I love it so much kind of look.

She gave him a little wave, shook her pom poms once, and mouthed: Go get ’ em.

His smile broke, slow and genuine. He nodded once— I got you.

And turned back to the team. Linnie exhaled, steady and full.

Tonight was about the team. The win. The field.

But standing there in her glitter shirt and butterflies, one thing was already clear—

She ’ d already won.