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It’s nothing, right? Another part of the performance. A little something to say ‘fuck you’ to Ron, who is probably about to go on camera and use the score as a reason to say Eddy needs to retire now. Instead, it hits me like lightning. My whole body tingles, from the place his mouth touched mine right down to my toes.

Eddy doesn’t pull back far; he’s still close enough that I can feel his breath against my lips. I just stare at him.

‘Eddy, can you sign my shirt?’ a man asks, interrupting us.

‘Of course,’ he replies.

I can’t resist looking over at Ron. His jaw is tight, and the producer beside him is saying something he clearly isn’t listening to. Ha! Good. Let this ruin his day, let it make his job harder, because he clearly has no regard for anyone else’s comfort.

The Manchester players are being called towards the stage. Jamie stands at the edge of the group, but he is looking in our direction.

Eddy’s arm returns to my waist as the trophy presentation begins.

Red-and-black confetti explodes into the air (so presumably they have both ready to go, depending on who wins), along with even more fireworks, while the Manchester players lift the cup. The stadium rattles with noise from the Manchester fans, although the Leeds fans who remain behind sing over it, louder and more defiant now.

Eddy stands beside me, watching. His smile fades ever so slightly.

I’m sure this must hurt, even if he did all he could, even if he was named Man of the Match and will be all anyone is talking about. I feel like I know him now, and he’s going to feel like he’s let people down.

He came here to win. Whatever pride he feels about the try, it won’t erase the sight of Jamie holding the trophy.

I lean closer, resting my head on his shoulder.

‘I’m sorry,’ I tell him.

He glances down at me.

‘For what?’

‘That you didn’t win,’ I reply.

‘So am I,’ he confesses. ‘But I’m proud of how we played.’

‘And there’s always next year?’ I say, hopefully.

He just laughs.

Jamie is finally smiling properly as the trophy is passed to him, although he immediately looks towards Eddy again before lifting it above his head and screaming something.

Eddy watches him.

‘He’s going to be unbearable,’ I say.

‘He already was,’ Eddy replies. ‘Although he might be a little more subdued, given that I flattened him.’

‘You did more than flatten him,’ I insist. ‘You stole the ball, left him sitting on the grass and made him chase you the full length of the pitch. That replay is going to follow him for the rest of his career. Plus, I don’t know what’s going to hurt more, his pride or his arse.’

Eddy’s mouth curves into a grin.

‘That helps.’

At least it feels like everyone won something. Eddy has his Man of the Match award, Jamie has his victory (although it will be overshadowed by his low-key childish reaction), and Ron had to watch Eddy kiss me in front of everyone, thus proving that I am absolutely fine and I have moved on.

Even if I’m not, and I haven’t.

18

There are so many reasons why I should be nervous about tonight.