“Seven,” he said. “Should we coordinate outfits?”
I snorted without thinking. “You want to wear a dress, O’Riley?”
A shy, boyish smile spread across his features, coupled with the blush that crept up his neck. “I’d pull it off.” He puffed his chest a little, and he knew I didn’t miss it. “But I was thinking more along the lines of color coordinating. My tie, your outfit.”
“Okay,” Coach Em said. “I’ll leave you two to discuss the specifics.”
She left us and, suddenly, I was hyperaware of the fact I was fresh from the training pitch, sweat running every which way down my body, with my team still going behind me.
Connor’s eyes traveled over me in a way that made every inch of my skin prickle. It wasn’t lingering or obvious, just a steady perusal that seemed to catch everything I was self-conscious about. My hairline, where the heat of exercise had coaxed stray curls free. The dirt along my cheekbone. The sweat cooling along my neck and disappearing beneath the neckline of my training top.
I felt messy, overheated, completely unpolished—and far too aware of him noticing.
His gaze returned to mine, and his expression was impossible to read.
“You don’t need me to tell you what color to wear Friday night,” he said, clearing his throat, “but I have a tie in dark green or black.”
My mouth felt dry, and I struggled to swallow.
“That’s… helpful,” I managed, wiping my thumb along my jaw, hoping to brush off every trace of post-training disarray. “I’ll keep it in mind.”
He nodded once, that same almost-smile tugging at his mouth. “Good.”
For a moment, we just stood there, the sun warming the grass beneath our feet, the pitch blurring with motion around us, yet the small pocket of space between us felt strangely still.
I cleared my throat. “I, uh… should get back. Warm-down, debrief, all that.”
“Right,” he said, though he didn’t step back. “Same. I’ve got a training review with Coach Knox.”
But he didn’t move either.
His mouth twitched again, that faint almost-smile I hadn’t seen on him much before the last few weeks. “Teddy?”
I forced myself to look up at him. “Yeah?”
“You’ll look great in whatever you choose,” he said quietly. “Tie coordination or not.”
My pulse slammed the inside of my ribs, wild and obvious to me, and I tried not to let it leak onto my features.
I tried summoning something witty, something confident, something that sounded like the captain I was, but all that came out was a breath that felt too thin.
“I’ll see you Friday.” I aimed for steady.
“See you Friday,” he echoed.
He finally stepped back, giving me room to breathe again, and the moment dissolved like mist. As he turned toward the far gate, my gaze clung to his back for a second longer than I meant to.
Evie appeared at my elbow, almost giving me a heart attack.
“Oh mygod,” she whispered, eyes huge. “What wasthat?”
I flinched. “I—Nothing. It wasn’t—”
“You’re blushing.”
“I’m hot from training.”
“You’re flustered.”
