Page 70 of Unwritten Rules (The Sunburnt Hearts #1)
TATUM
FOUR MONTHS LATER
I ’m blinded by the overhead stadium lights. Adrenaline pumps through my veins, my heartbeat skipping in time with the clock ticking down. Each second passes by too quickly, the score far too close for comfort.
Five minutes. That’s all the Wolves have left to turn this game around. If they can score a try, not only will they be four points above the Melbourne Raiders, but it’ll be enough to see them win the grand final.
The air in the stadium is thick, with every fan on the edge of their seat, eager to see who the winning team will be. Either way, half of the attendees will go home upset over the loss. The other half will file into the streets of Sydney, celebrating with cheers and drinks.
Sinnett’s jersey from last season hangs from my frame, helping me to blend in with the Wolves fans surrounding me. He gave it to me a couple of months ago, reminding me that I can only wear his number. Not that I’m complaining. Number seven has my heart.
I swallow hard, eyes flicking from the field to the big screen with the time left in the game displayed.
The Raiders are on their fourth tackle now, pushing toward their try line.
But the Wolves aren’t giving up that easily.
Khai charges into a tackle, and somehow the big hit causes the Raiders player to fumble the ball.
With the Wolves starting their set of five tackles, the pressure is on. I hold my breath, eyes locked on the players. Sinnett is focused, head darting side to side as he searches for a gap in the Raiders’ defence.
I didn’t have a chance to talk to him much before the game.
Dad warned me that the team would be stoic with their game faces on, ready to win.
Sinnett was exactly that. Besides the good luck kiss we shared before he started warming up and a quick, “I’m so proud of you,” we haven’t interacted.
Knowing he needed space, I took my seat in the section of the grandstand beside the tunnel the teams run out from.
The Wolves staff and benched players are right in front of me, with the cheerleaders not too far away.
Raya was busy prepping for the pre-game performance when I saw her a couple of hours ago.
I’m always amazed by her dancing abilities and how stunning she looks out on the field.
It’s clear she was born to do this, so seeing her out there shining like the star she is, in front of eighty-thousand people, was a proud friend moment for me.
We’ve grown closer over the past couple of months.
She had my back when I needed her the most, and I still don’t know how to repay her kindness.
Having a friend like her has replaced the hole left in my heart after leaving Noah and Nathan.
I know they’re only a phone call away, but with Noah loved up with Mia and Jade, and Nathan being Nathan, hounding them with life updates doesn’t feel right.
They have their own stuff going on, and even though we’re all busy, we still make time to catch up with each other.
But with Raya, I can call or text her whenever I need and she’ll be there for me.
My attention snaps back to the third tackle of the set, Nico—a front rower—going down in a pile-on tackle.
I slip to the edge of my seat, hand over my heart.
With less than four minutes left on the clock, I watch as Sinnett receives the ball and passes it off to Khai, who makes a run for the try line.
I’m on my feet, heart slamming against my ribcage.
Three minutes.
A cheer erupts from my throat when Khai slips past two defenders and dives for the line, body sliding across the grass. The sound around me is deafening—a mixture of screams and gasps of disbelief. My hands ache from clapping, excitement electric at the tips of my fingers.
They did it.
The Wolves scored a try.
Sinnett jumps on Khai’s shoulders as the rest of the team rushes to celebrate with him. A smile splits across Sinnett’s face as he ruffles his friend’s sweaty hair. His exterior might appear happy, but I can only imagine the pressure he’s feeling right now, hidden beneath the surface.
With Sinnett’s father commentating the game and the fans eagerly waiting for him to kick the try conversion, I know he’ll be feeling the pressure. Anyone in his position would be.
Sinnett’s relationship with his father is still strained.
They’ve tried talking through their differences, but as Sinnett predicted, his father doesn’t seem willing or able to change his mindset about how he interacts with his son.
Even though they don’t talk as much, the weekly family dinners long gone, much to the displeasure of his mother, Sinnett still carries the weight of his father’s approval.
It’s not as bad as it was when I first met him and learned of what he was dealing with, but it still lingers like a shadow.
My father slowly but surely came around to the idea of me dating Sinnett.
After many weeks of side glances and hesitancy to accept seeing us together—and, of course, far too many awkward conversations about me being ‘safe’—he has finally stopped worrying about me dating a rugby player.
Sinnett has proven to him that he is willing to do anything to protect me, taking on the job Dad had burdened himself with since Mum’s passing.
They’re slowly mending their relationship, which is translating to their time together training.
But despite this newfound acceptance, Sinnett carries the weight of my father’s expectations also—something he doesn’t take lightly.
Despite the turmoil between them, he doesn’t want to let Dad down.
And in his mind, losing the grand final would do just that.
My heart is ready to burst from my chest, and my lungs ache as I hold my breath, watching as Sinnett lines up the ball a few metres from the edge of the field. This is one of the hardest positions to kick from, and with the eyes of every fan in the stadium on him, he’d be feeling the pressure.
You’ve got this, Sin .
Sinnett huffs out a breath and flicks his eyes to the goal post one last time before charging forward, his powerful leg sending the ball flying through the air. A collective hitch in breathe is heard around the stadium, watching as the ball soars through the goal posts.
He’s done it.
The Wolves are six points ahead, bringing the score to 6-12.
I jump where I stand, watching as Sinnett rushes to his starting position. With two minutes left on the clock, the Raiders are going to need a miracle to even the score.
With my heart in my throat, and the seconds ticking by at an agonising pace, the Raiders throw everything they have at the Wolves, but in the end, they can’t get past the defensive line.
When the timer hits eighty minutes, a roar sounds around the stadium, and my heart nearly explodes from my chest.
They did it.
The Wolves won the grand final!
Everything happens in slow motion. The Wolves players on the bench rush onto the field, embracing the players in a flurry of hugs and claps on the back.
The club’s theme song sounds from the speakers, enhancing the excitement radiating from the fans.
Tears spring to my eyes as I watch the players who I’ve spent countless months with earning their hard-fought win.
It’s been a long and tough season, but this win proves how strong their side is and how united they are when playing together.
I spot his ocean eyes the second they find me from across the field.
Sinnett grins as he jogs towards me, his attention focused solely on me.
My heart skips a beat, and the air in my lungs evaporates.
Sweat coats his skin and blades of grass stick to his jersey.
His hair is a mess and his face is beyond dirty, but it doesn’t take away from how stunning he is. In fact, he’s glowing.
Winning the grand final will do that to you.
“You did it!” I squeal when he’s in hearing range. I feel the glances from the crowd around us on the back of my head, but I block them out, only seeing him. “I’m so proud of you, Sin!”
“Come here, strawberry,” he rasps, arms outstretched.
Heat explodes from my chest when his arms find my waist, hoisting me off the ground and into his arms. I don’t care that he’s sweaty or eight-thousand people are watching us.
All I care about is him and celebrating a win he has been working towards all season.
In spite of his quad injury back in April, he is standing here with a grand final win under his belt.
Proud doesn’t even begin to explain what I feel right now.
I don’t think I could do it justice with words.
Burying my face into his neck, I allow him to pull me away over the fence line and onto the field. With my legs hooked around his waist, I focus on the rhythm of his heart and the familiar scent that feels like home.
“I couldn’t have done it without you, Tate,” Sinnett murmurs into my hair, his hand cupping the back of my neck as he holds me close. “This win is for you.”
I hug him tighter, fighting the tears threatening to fall.
Leaning back, I grin. “You did this, Sin. Injury and all, this was all your doing.”
Sinnett’s grip on my thighs tighten, ocean eyes glowing under the stadium lights. They search my face as his chest heaves.
What’s on his mind?
I’m sure it’s a chaotic storm with everything going on. Despite the audience around us, and the celebration from the team on the field, we’re in our own little bubble.
“I love you, Tate.”
My breath hitches in my throat. I blink at him, the words settling into my skin.
It’s the first time he’s ever said those three words. They’ve entered my mind many times, but haven’t been spoken. I was afraid that it would be too soon or the moment not right.
Truth is, Sinnett has had my heart from the moment I met him, but I was too blind to see or acknowledge it.
Even if we never said the words, I still felt them deep in my core, festering into an emotion designed for him.
But now that he’s said them, I can’t wipe the smile off my face or stop the heat exploding in my core.
There is no perfect time to tell someone you love them, but this moment right here, with adrenaline pumping through our veins, running on a high created by the most intense game of footy I’ve ever watched, couldn’t have been more perfect.
My lips find his, electricity pumping through my veins. Hands caressing his face, Sinnett’s mouth moves effortlessly with mine, responding in a way words never could. His grip tightens, somehow pulling me closer to him than physically possible.
I pull away breathlessly, my forehead dropping against his, and legs wrapped tightly around his waist. A smile tilts up my mouth. “I love you, Sin. In this life and the next.”
Sinnett grins. “Winning your heart far outweighs any grand final win from tonight or ten years in the future.”
I press a chaste kiss to his lips, my heart threatening to explode from my chest. “All you had to do was break some rules.”
“You were worth it, Tate,” he murmurs, ocean eyes roaming my face. “Loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”
Tears spring to my eyes as every moment we’ve ever shared rushes to my mind.
“I hope so.”