“Everything okay?” Noah asked from the doorway.
“Fittings got moved up to Wednesday at eight,” I said. “You’re one of the leads.”
He went still. “We’ll make it work,” he said, like it was a fact and not a wish.
I typed one word back to Brand and hit send. Confirmed.
8
NOAH
Two days later, the morning started earlier than I wanted. I stared at the ceiling for a few minutes before the alarm went off and tried to decide if the weight in my chest was from sleep or everything else. Em, my parents’ latest string of texts harassing me, Miles…the first series of the season with me being a guardian. The answer honestly didn’t matter. I got up, pulled on a tee, and went to the kitchen.
Miles barreled out two minutes later in mismatched socks. He crashed into my side, then aimed straight for Sassy like they’d been roommates for years. Em was already up. She stood at the counter with her hair twisted into a clip, glasses on, and a legal pad full of notes next to her coffee. Her sweatshirt was mine again. The sleeves were rolled three times. The sight did something to me I didn’t have language for. It wasn’t like it was the first, third or tenth time she’d borrowed something of mine, but seeing her in my place with it hit differently.
“Eggs or oatmeal?” I asked. I pulled the pan down and waited. “Both of you. I’m feeding both of you.”
“Eggs, please. I can make toast.” Em wiggled her brows, aneasy smile on her face. She’d been up for a while. She’d put on makeup, and her eyes seemed brighter.
“You can sit,” I said. “You have a fitting today. Sit.”
She made a face but didn’t push it. She reached for Sassy’s collar and clipped the leash to the cabinet handle so our new kitchen supervisor didn’t counter-surf. That was one thing we learned the last two days. Sassy could jump high and liked to steal food. Any and all food.
Miles narrated everything I did like it was a cooking show while Em scanned her list and highlighted. I tried not to stare but I watched her anyway. She was calm this morning. Focused. The guys on the team were talking about getting new looks with her, and I was so damn proud of her.
After breakfast, I packed Miles’s lunch, and Em tucked a napkin inside with a wonky smiley face. He pretended he was too old for that and then hid it in his pocket like a treasure. The two of them got along, and I was forever grateful for Sassy. Having her around Miles had made such a difference. Despite only being here two days, I knew when Sassy left it would be hard for Miles, so we’d have to get a dog. That was a later problem, not a right now one, and my life could only be focused onright nowproblems. My temple already throbbed, and I had to drop Miles off, get to the stadium, do the photos, and get ready for facing off with Dallas.
“Will you be back here tonight, Em?”
“Sure will, buddy. You have a great day at school, okay?” Em bent down and gave Miles a high five. He hit her hard and then shook his head.
“No, go higher. I can jump!”
She obliged his request, and they spent two minutes doing high fives, causing Miles to giggle like a fool. God, I loved his laugh. Nat had been such a good mom, and the kid was always laughing. She’d love seeing Em here, and Sassy, knowing theywere helping Miles during this time. I shook the thought of her away and waved. “See you at the stadium. Sure you don’t wanna ride with me?”
“No, I’m okay. See you there, Noah.” She gave me a shy smile and went to her room, Sassy right on her tail.
Drop-off was quick that day. Miles couldn’t wait to tell his class about Sassy, and I couldn’t blame him. Once he was safely inside his school, my focus shifted to football and Em as I drove to the stadium.
Traffic along Lake Shore crawled, which gave my brain room to do what it shouldn’t. Em didn’t have a car. She’d said she was fine, but fine could mean a bus, the L, or an Uber with a driver who didn’t care about garment bags. I hit the blinker and texted at a red.
Noah: You sure you’re okay getting in? I can swing back and get you.
Three dots popped up, disappeared, and came back.
Em: All good. Found a ride.
What did that mean? How did she find a ride? From who? I ground my teeth together, wishing she would stop being stubborn and let me drive her. Maybe it’d be weird for her to show up with me. Yeah, that made sense. I let that thought settle as I finished the drive.
Inside, the building ran the way it always did on a busy week. Equipment guys slid past with crates. The smell of coffee and rubber filled the air. A cluster of media waited for Marla Chen, Director of Communications, to herd them toward the press room. Marla clocked me with a quick nod.
“Abbott,” she said, falling into step for three strides. “Content crew is cleared for the fitting only. No shoulder pad shots, no trainer room shots, no live streams. If a camera gets cute, point them to me.”
“Got it,” I said.
She tipped her tablet at my chest like a warning and veered off to intercept a cameraman who’d wandered too close to the locker room door. I took the back corridor, right behind the weight room.
The room was already reset. Folding rack under soft lights. Rolling mirror angled toward the wall so it didn’t catch the whole room. Tape on the floor for where guys should stand. A garment table with numbered bags and a stack of consent slips that Legal made everyone sign for “use of likeness.” Brand had their fingerprints on everything.
