She turns back to her laptop, pretending to work, but I can tell she’s fighting a smile. The air between us feels charged now—warm and electric and dangerous in all the ways I don’t want to name.
She’s not just under my skin anymore—she’s in my head. Every word, every grin, every bloody mention of a hot dog.
I lean my head back against the seat, closing my eyes, but all I can think about is her voice, the curve of her grin, the way she made me say, “Maybe I will.”
And for the first time in a long while, I realize I might actually mean it.
Chapter 20
By the time we check into the hotel, I feel like I’ve lived three days in one.
The flight, the bus, the cameras, the endless chatter. Travel days are their own special kind of chaos, but they’re also my favorite to film. There’s something about showing the fans those little moments—boarding the bus, stepping off the plane, walking into the hotel lobby—that makes them feel as if they’re right here with us.
We got some great footage today. When we landed, I held June back for a minute before boarding the team bus. I explained how I usually capture the team arriving and leaving, keeping the clips vague enough that no one can track our exact location, but still giving the fans the illusion of being part of it. She listened carefully, nodding, wide-eyed and eager, her phone in her hand, ready to help.
The moment we climbed on board, every player went straight to their old seat without anyone having to say a word. Superstition is a powerful thing.
I made my way toward the back, June following close behind.
“Are we following procedure here too?” she asked, smiling.
“Always,” I said, laughing.
We passed Thiago and Rogue, side by side again. June paused beside them.
“Mr. Gallagher?”
“It’s Rogue, lass,” he corrected, the corner of his mouth twitching.
She grinned. “Mr. Rogue, then. Where shall I sit?”
He tilted his head, that knowing smirk tugging at his lips. “You may sit with Catalina.”
I rolled my eyes but kept walking. June stifled a laugh, dropping into the seat beside me. The bus rumbled to life, and I busied myself with pretending not to feel Rogue’s gaze on me.
Now, standing in the hotel lobby, my shoulders finally drop. Room keys are handed out one by one. Some players share, some have singles, it depends on contracts, preferences, and years with the club. June and I are assigned a large double suite with two queen beds and a view of the city.
As soon as we step inside, June looks around in awe. “Does everyone get their own room like this?”
“Not always,” I say, setting my camera bag down. “Some share. It’s a mix. We’ll get separate rooms in the future once you’re settled.”
She shakes her head, still smiling. “I don’t mind. I’m used to traveling with my sisters. We’ve even shared one bed a few times.”
That earns a laugh from me. “Same. My sister and I used to steal each other’s pillows growing up. Marianna would always end up with both somehow.”
“How many siblings do you have?” June perks up instantly.
“Just me and Marianna. She’s back home right now, but she’s coming to Great Lakes soon to stay with me and Briana for a while.” My chest warms just saying it. “It’s been too long.”
“I’d love to meet her. I’ve got two sisters myself—April and May. I’m the youngest. April’s on her way to California, chasing her dream job, and May’s still at home for now. We’re all trying to figure life out.”
There’s something comforting in that confession. We share a grin, the kind only sisters—or people who understand sisters—would.
We unpack in companionable silence. The hum of the city filters through the window. I take a slow breath; this part of the trip always feels like a reset.
June’s phone buzzes. She checks it, then glances at me. “One of my friends lives here. Do you mind if I try to see her later?”
“Not at all. Today’s basically a rest day, anyway. Enjoy it.”
