Playing for Keeps: a Small Town Friends-to-More Christian Sports Romance (Book 3 of Legacy Falls series)

The toothbrush clattered into its holder, louder than it should’ve been. Hunter gripped the edge of the counter, leaning in toward the mirror. Same brown eyes. Same steady jawline. Same scar faintly visible near his temple from a long-ago tackle gone wrong.

But the reflection staring back felt like a stranger.

He’d done it.

The Offer.

The pros.

Everything he’d worked, sweated, and prayed for.

So why did it feel like a piece of him was missing?

His phone buzzed again, vibrating against the nightstand with the same relentless energy that had chased him all day. Congratulatory calls. Texts from teammates. Old coaches. His parents, already talking flights and ticket prices.

Everyone thrilled. Everyone so sure this was the moment he’d been waiting for.

He walked across the room, running a hand through his hair before checking the screen.

Jo Donahue.

Guilt hit like a gut punch. He should’ve texted her hours ago.

He swiped to answer. “Jo, hey—”

“You got an offer, and I had to hear it from FOX Sports? Seriously, Hunter?”

Her tone was sharp, but there was laughter threaded through it. That familiar warmth that somehow steadied him more than anything else could.

He blew out a breath, trying for casual. “I know, I know. I’m sorry. It’s been a crazy day. I’m going to Ohio!”

“I’m happy for you,” she said. But then her voice softened in that way it did when she saw right through him. “But... you didn’t call. And you don’t sound all that happy. What’s going on?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, lowering his head. “It’s nothing. I mean—it’s amazing. It’s what I’ve worked for.”

A pause, quiet but loaded. “Is it Diego?”

He closed his eyes. How did she always know?

“Yeah,” he said finally. “He didn’t get an offer.”

“Oh no.”

“I thought…” His voice cracked before he could stop it. “I thought we’d make it together. We built something, you know?”

“The Montoya/McKinley Magic,” she said softly.

He nodded, throat tight. “There’s no magic without Diego. We’ve done everything together. And now…”

“Now you’re stepping into your dream without him.”

Her words weren’t judgment—they were understanding. That was the thing about Jo. She never filled silences with fluff. She met truth head-on.

“He was supposed to be part of it,” Hunter said, staring at the ceiling. “Now he’s talking about working with teens, maybe moving back to California. Says it’s a sign from God.”

“Maybe it is,” Jo said. “You know how much he’s always cared about troubled kids.”

He sat down on the edge of his bed, running his thumb over the edge of his nightstand. “I know. But it still feels wrong. Like I’m leaving something—someone—behind.”

“Hunter, you’re not abandoning him,” she said. “He knows your heart. But you should tell him how much you’re going to miss him.”

He sighed. “Maybe.”

“You sound exhausted,” she said.

“It’s been a full day.” His voice was heavier than he meant it to be.

“Then get some sleep.” Her voice caught just a little. “And—I’m proud of you.”

He swallowed the lump that rose in his throat. “Thanks, Jo.”

After they hung up, he lay in the dark, staring at the ceiling fan spinning lazily overhead. The ache in his chest didn’t vanish, but beneath it was something else.

Gratitude.

“Thank You, God,” he whispered, eyes closing. “For Jo. For her friendship. For her seeing me when I can’t see myself.”

He didn’t know then how much those words would matter in the future.

When everything fell apart.