I’ve made it a point to always be lighthearted and playful with the staff—coaches, medical, athletic trainers, reporters—their job in this organization is just as important, maybe even more so than mine. It makes it easier when we have a mutual respect for each other’s role.
Walking toward Coach Aarons’s office, I hear a laugh that sounds all too familiar. A series of sounds that have been living rent-free in my mind since I heard it a week ago.
Down the hall, I see a tall figure leave his office. Dark hair spills over her shoulders and a large brown bag is on one of her arms. She’s smiling down at her phone and then looks up—as if she could feel me staring at her.
“It’s you,” I say—in probably the softest, most pathetic voice I’ve ever used.
“Hi,” she says.
“W-what are you doing here?”
“I’m your new sideline reporter.”
No way.No fucking way. I haven’t stopped thinking about this woman since she rolled her eyes at me last weekend, and now I’m supposed to work with her, knowing she’s engaged to a mediocre man?
I guess I could spin it. Igetto work with her. Igetto see her. Even if she can’t ever be mine. At least I get to be around her. That’ll take some getting used to, but I’m nothing if not a team player and excellent colleague.
“Oh wow, congratulations. You didn’t mention it last weekend,” I admit.
She shrugs, pulling the shoulder of her gray cardigan up over her skin as it keeps falling, and I notice a small red and blue flag keychain dangling from the strap of her bag. I take a mental picture of it so I can look up which flag it is later.
“That night wasn’t about me.”
Jesus, she’s pretty, smart,andhumble? This must be what they mean when they say God gives his hardest battles to his strongest soldiers. Because how the hell am I supposed to stop thinking about her?
“I’ve got to run. But I’ll see you around, I guess.” Her shoulders rise and fall as she softly smiles.
“Sure,” I say, stepping to the side as she begins to walk away. Because sure is the only word I can form as I melt at the sight of her dimples.
I keep heading down the long hallway to Coach’s office, but hear her call out before she approaches the elevators.
“Hey, Twelve?”
I turn around at the sound of her voice.
“I’ve watched your film.” Her head nods up and down and she turns her lips up into a soft smile. “Pretty good for a third-rounder.”
And my chest swells.
PRESENT
“Sorry, could you repeat that?”
The press conference today is full of reporters wanting to get the scoop on how training camp is going.
The reporter in a gray polo sighs as I ask him to repeat his question, and this time I force myself to pay attention to him instead of the high ponytail at the back of the room. The one attached to a woman who will barely make eye contact with me. The one with pouty lips who loves to roll those beautiful brown eyes at me any chance she gets.
“With Graham Turner announcing his retirement in the offseason, how do you suppose that’ll impact your season?” He speaks louder this time, noticeably annoyed he had to repeat himself to begin with. I can’t blame him.
“Graham’s retiring?” I let the joke fly out of my mouth and wait for anyone in the room to laugh, but it seems to fall flat.Tough crowd.
After a few seconds there are a handful of low pity chuckles, and at the back of the crowd I catch her shaking her head at my attempt. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear she’s biting back a smile as a flash of red tints her cheeks. And making Demi Sanchez blush is still on my life’s bucket list.
“I’m kidding.” I assure the dozen people sitting in front of me that I’m not completely oblivious to the happenings around me. “I’ll miss him, but he deserves the time off now. He’s done a lot for this team and this is part of the business. I’ve been tempted to bribe him into staying…” The crowd lets out a laugh. “But I completely respect his decision. He’s given everything to this organization for a long time. Now it’s his time to do something else.”
My palms rub the edge of the podium as I scan the room for the next voice I hear. Sweat is dripping down my temples, and I’m itching to get inside. But another reporter speaks up as I take a deep breath.
“Liam, Willa fromHello, Tampa,” she introduces herself. “How has camp been so far? There are a lot of new faces out there. Seeing anything special?”
