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I swear, people sit straighter, paying more attention than they have all evening.

The screens move through highlights of the five nominees for Man of the Season, although everyone knows there are only two names that matter, and my heart is in my mouth.

Obviously Eddy Hood and Jamie Royle are shortlisted. Their rivalry has dominated the end of the season, especially since the final. Jamie has the winners’ medal. Eddy has the Man of the Match award and scored the try that people are already calling one of the greatest in the league’s history.

Every preview I have seen asks the same question. Does the King keep his crown, or has the Prince finally taken it? The debate didn’t quite seem like it was settled with the Grand Final, because even though Jamie’s side won, pretty much everyone agrees that Eddy won the night unofficially. This award now, well, it’s going to decide who the real winner is.

I feel nervous. Obviously I want Eddy to win, but… I don’t know. It doesn’t feel as straightforward as it should. Too much is riding on it.

Eddy sits beside me with one arm resting against the back of his chair, looking almost bored.

‘How are you this calm?’ I whisper.

‘It’s just an award,’ he replies, but I suspect it does mean something to him. It must.

I look across at Jamie. He isn’t pretending to be bored; he’s leaning forward slightly, elbows on the table, his attention fixed on the stage. His expression is controlled, but I know him well enough now to see the tension in his jaw.

It’s Sol who walks on stage to present the award. The nominees appear on-screen, and each clip is greeted by applause. For Eddy’s, obviously they show his Grand Final try and everyone cheers. Well, almost everyone.

‘The Rugby League Man of the Season is… Eddy Hood.’

The Leeds tables erupt. Someone behind us grabs Eddy’s shoulders and shakes him violently. Several players are already on their feet, applauding and shouting his name. Hood, Hood, Hood – like they do at the games.

I turn towards him. For once, Eddy looks genuinely surprised.

‘You won,’ I say, because it almost seems like he hasn’t noticed.

He smiles. Then he stands – we all stand up to applaud him. He turns towards me before going to the stage, one hand on my face. For half a second, I think he might kiss me – instead, he plants a peck on my forehead. Oh God, that feels even more intimate than if he’d stuck his tongue down my throat.

‘Congratulations,’ I whisper.

‘Thanks.’

He heads towards the stage to accept his award. I daren’t even look at Jamie to see how he’s taking the news, but I can’t imagine it’s well. He’s spent the whole season telling everyone that he’s coming for Eddy’s crown, but no such luck.

Eddy accepts the trophy and shakes hands with the presenters, while the video of him besting Jamie plays on repeat in the background.

‘I know some of you won’t believe me, but I wasn’t expecting this,’ he begins.

Someone at the Leeds table shouts, ‘Liar,’ and everyone laughs.

Eddy looks towards us.

‘I wasn’t.’

His expression softens as he glances down at the award, which looked massive on the podium, but oddly tiny in his hands.

‘It’s been a strange season. Not always an easy one, and it didn’t end how we wanted it to, but I’m proud of the lads, the club and everyone who’s supported us. I owe most of this to my family – my mum and my sister – and to my late dad for getting me into league at an early age. And, Brooke, a huge thank you to you for everything you’ve done for me, professionally and personally.’

My heart stops as he says my name. I notice a few people turn to look at me, but I keep my eyes fixed on him, trying to keep my cool.

‘And, yeah, thanks to the club, to my teammates…’ Eddy sounds off various names, some I know, some I don’t. ‘Oh, and I guess it’s true what they say… if you come for the king, you’d better not miss.’

He doesn’t literally drop the mic, obviously, it’s fixed to the podium, but with that one final comment, that one-blow knockout, he walks off.

The applause roars while Eddy heads back towards his seat.

I finally dare to look over at Jamie, who is on his feet. For a moment, I think he is finally joining the standing ovation, but he’s got a right face on him as he storms off towards the exit.