And still… there was a hollow space in my chest where the dinner night still sat like a stone, cold and heavy.
I must have been absentmindedly rubbing my wrist again because Grace softened, nodding toward the reflex. “You okay?”
I startled, smiling big and immediately folding my hands behind my back. “Oh, fine. Think I may have tweaked something lifting boxes of t-shirts earlier.”
“Easy to do,” Maven said. “Let the volunteers do the heavy lifting later, okay? Ah,” she added, nodding behind me. “I think our time of kissing your feet is over, at least for now. Your leading man just arrived.”
I followed her gaze.
Nathan strutted in like the arena belonged to him, and I suppose it might as well have. His suit was perfect, hair perfect, that signature GM smile turned up just enough to charm but not enough to look like he was trying. A few fans called his name as he passed, and he paused for a quick photo like it wasn’t a bother at all, all polish and ease.
When his eyes found mine, they softened.
“There’s my girl,” he said as he reached me, arm sliding around my waist and pulling me in. He kissed my temple like he used to when we first started dating. “You are incredible. This place is buzzing.”
The warmth of his praise collided with the memory of his grip, confusing everything inside me.
“Thanks,” I managed. “We’re nearly at our goal for the night, and we’re not even to the scrimmage yet.”
He beamed, like a proud husband who’d never done anything worse than leave socks on the floor. “That’s my wife,” he said, winking at Maven and Grace as he tucked me under one arm. “Tell me again how I got so lucky?”
“We’ve been asking ourselves the same since you two showed up in Tampa,” Maven teased.
Grace snorted. “She’s being nice. You married up, Black. Don’t forget it.”
Nathan laughed good-naturedly. “I know when I’m out of my league.”
He gave my waist a squeeze, not a hard one, but one that was soft and affectionate.
It was just enough pressure to make me feel crazy for having been afraid of him at all.
“Channel 8 is ready when you are,” our PR manager called from across the lobby, waving us over.
“Go shine,” Maven whispered, bumping my hip.
“Knock ’em dead,” Grace added.
Nathan steered me with him toward the camera setup, his hand warm at the small of my back. “Having fun so far?”
I let out a nervous breath as we approached the camera crew. “I am. Everything has come together perfectly.”
“It really has.” He paused, pulling me to a stop to check my hair and dress with an affectionate smile. “Have you seen Coach McCabe yet?”
His eyes stayed on my dress where he busied himself with smoothing the fabric that didn’t need to be fixed.
I swallowed. “No, not yet, actually.”
Nathan hummed, nodding. “Good. I think maybe it’s best you stay away from him.”
My heart lurched into my throat. “Oh?” I asked carefully. “Something going on?”
At that, Nathan smirked, the first bit of evil leaking through his perfect exterior in days. His eyes skirted to mine. “I don’t know, Ariana.Isthere something going on?”
The pulse thrumming in my ears muted everything, and I didn’t know what to do but stare back at him and feign naivety.
“Mrs. Black?” a soft voice interrupted, and then the assistant with the news crew ushered me over to the camera. “You’re up.”
The lights were bright, the reporter poised with her mic and perfect smile. I was still trying to regain my composure after the unexpected warning from Nathan.
