Right. Noah. In my clothes. In this building. Today.
“Sounds good,” I said brightly, even as my palms went slick. “I’ll head down to the equipment room and lay everything out.”
“Perfect.” Marla gathered her things. “You’re doing great, Em. This is exactly the direction we wanted, so keep trusting your instincts, okay?”
Compliments usually bounced off me, but these stuck somewhere between my ribs. I smiled, thanked everyone, grabbed my bag, and walked out with what I hoped was confident purpose and not “woman fleeing the scene of an emotional crime.”
As soon as the elevator doors closed behind me, I exhaled so hard my cheeks puffed.
“Okay,” I whispered to myself. I could do this. Iwoulddo this and smile.
The equipment room smelled like detergent, turf, and a hint of sweat no amount of industrial-strength cleaner could fully erase. It reminded me of visiting my brother up in Minnesota. Racks of jerseys hung in color-coded perfection along the walls;stacks of helmet shells glowed under fluorescent lights. A few equipment managers moved around, re-lacing cleats and sorting pads.
“Hey, Em.” Carlos, one of the assistants, waved. “I rolled the mannequins out like you asked.”
“Thank you.” I set my bag on a workbench and pulled the garment bags open one by one. “You’re a lifesaver.”
I dressed two of the half-body forms in the updated samples, adjusting hems and smoothing seams until they fell exactly the way I envisioned. Then I laid out the extra sizes on a long table: medium, large, extra-large, a couple 2X for linemen. I set my measuring tape, chalk, pins, and notebook beside them like surgical instruments.
Clothes were easier than feelings. Fixing a sleeve cap was ten times simpler than repairing the part of me that always believed I wasn’t enough.
“You want me to send them back when they get here?” Carlos asked.
“Yes, please.” I forced a smile. “Tell them it’s not optional. I have needles, and I’m not afraid to use them.”
He laughed and headed toward the hallway that led to the weight room.
Sassy wasn’t allowed in the player areas, which was the only downside of this arrangement. I took out my phone and pulled up the group chat instead.
Daniel: I LOVE HER GLASSES. Tell Sassy she’s my favorite little niece
Audrey: same, also your blazer is
Theo: Very Main Character Energy today, Em.
Em: LOVE LOVE LOVE MY FURRY GIRLLL
Warmth spread through my chest. I snapped a quick selfie with the mannequins, stuck my tongue out, then stuffed my phone in my pocket as heavy footsteps pounded down the hall.
Loud voices. A laugh I could pick out of a stadium full of people.
Showtime.
Noah and Quinn came in together, both in team-issued workout gear, hair damp from showers, skin still flushed from practice. Quinn carried his usual breeze of cocky confidence; Noah felt like a quiet storm beside him.
My heart tried to leap out of my throat. I smacked it down and dialed my smile up to blinding.
“Hey!” I chirped, too loud. “Look at you two, right on time. Gold stars.”
Quinn grinned. “You hear that, Abbott? Gold stars. We’re killing it.”
Noah’s gaze swept over me once, quick but thorough. I focused on his chin, his shoulder, literally anywhere but his eyes.
“Hi, Em,” he said, low and warm.
Every nerve in my body noticed. I pivoted toward the clothes, like that had been my plan all along.
“Okay!” I clapped my hands. “We’ve got new fits to test. Noah, I took your notes about shoulder room and hem length; Quinn, I adjusted the waistband on the joggers so they don’t slide when you’re, you know, being dramatic in the end zone.”
