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The car park is already fuller than usual with it being championship week. Training’s been ramped up, more sessions, longer hours, more pressure, more expectation, and normally I thrive on it. Normally it’s exactly where I want to be. But today… Today I’m distracted.

I grab my bag and head inside, the familiar noise of the changing room hitting me straight away, music playing too loud, lads shouting over each other, someone already arguing about a tackle from last weekend. Normal.

Noah clocks me the second I walk in.

“About time,” he says, tossing me a towel. “Thought you’d retired.”

“Tempting,” I mutter, pulling my shirt off.

He watches me for a second. Then smirks. “You’ve been quiet this week.”

“Been busy.”

“Yeah,” he says slowly. “You’ve beenthatkind of busy.”

I roll my eyes. “Don’t.”

“No, seriously,” he continues, leaning back against the lockers. “Missed training, dodging messages, walking around like someone I don’t know.”

I pause. Because he’s not wrong. There’s no point pretending with him.

“There is… someone,” I say.

His eyebrows shoot up. “No way.”

“Yeah.”

“Who?”

I hesitate for a second. I don’t usually mix these worlds. Oakwood stays separate. But this doesn’t feel separate anymore.

“Freya,” I say.

He frowns. “Freya…?”

“She lives in Oakwood. I’ve known her since we were kids.”

Recognition hits. “The school mum?”

“Yeah.”

“The one with the little boy that you go back to visit?”

I nod. He stares at me for a second. Then breaks into a grin. “You are joking.”

“I’m not.”

“Rory Bennett,” he laughs. “Falling for a school mum. I love this.”

“Don’t,” I mutter, grabbing my shorts.

“No, this is brilliant,” he continues. “You’ve been hiding this?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

I shrug. “Didn’t want to jinx it.”