“Long ride,” I say, stepping up beside her.
She turns, startled, then smiles. It’s small, but genuine. “You could say that. Is this how you travel every week?”
“Pretty much. Charter bus, bad snacks, worse playlists.”
She laughs softly. “I can see that.”
Her hand brushes mine as we reach for the same sugar packet, and the tiny contact sends a jolt through me. I pull back, clearing my throat. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
We stand there, both pretending to focus on our drinks. The silence stretches. Then she looks up at me, eyes warm and uncertain. “You nervous about the game?”
“Always,” I admit. “But this one feels different.”
“Because of the league standings?”
“Because you’ll be watching,” I say before I can stop myself.
Her breath catches, and for a heartbeat, the everything narrows to that space between us; the smell of coffee, the soft sound of rain on the awning. Then Laura’s voice cuts in, calling her name, and the moment’s gone.
Back on the bus, Brennan elbows me as I slide into my seat. “You and the photographer looked cosy.”
“Drop it.”
He grins. “Hey, I get it. She’s got that whole mystery thing. Dangerous combination.”
Ryan leans over. “Talia know you’re flirting with the staff?”
“Not funny.”
“Didn’t say it was.”
“And she’s not technically staff.”
I stare out the window until the blur of motorway and trees steadies my pulse. But even as I try to shake it, her face lingers with the way she smiled without meaning to, the way her voice softened when she asked about nerves.
Hours later, Glasgow appears through the drizzle, the skyline sharp against low clouds. The bus pulls up outside the hotel, and everyone stirs, stretching, gathering bags, snapping headphones back into cases. Laura stands, briefing the group about call times and schedules. Rose listens carefully, pen tapping against her notebook.
When she stands to get off, our eyes meet again. It’s quick, barely a glance, but something unspoken moves between us. She smiles faintly, it’s polite, professional. Then she’s gone, stepping onto the pavement with Laura.
Inside the hotel, the noise is immediate with staff shouting room numbers, players joking, Brennan tossing his keycard at Ryan. Lukas bounds up beside me, juggling two bags at once. “So, this is Glasgow, huh?”
“Welcome to Scotland,” I say dryly.
He grins. “Can’t wait to see how the locals handle my charm.”
“You’ll be lucky if they understand you.”
He laughs, slapping my shoulder. “You seem wound up, man. Big game?”
“Kind of,”
When I reach my room, the silence hits hard. I drop my bag, peel off my hoodie, and stand by the window. The city glows in the rain, neon lights blurring across wet pavement. My phone buzzes on the nightstand with a new message from Rose.
Rose: Just wanted to say thanks again for sorting all this. It means a lot.
I stare at the screen too long before typing back.
