Page 78 of Colliding with Ten

“You good to do the interview?” I asked.

She nodded. “Yeah. We’ll be sitting for that, so no problem.”

“Okay.”

“You don’t have to be worried about me. I’m okay.”

I nodded. “Okay.”

The smile she gave as she left for the makeup chair should’ve been illegal. I bent down and picked up the forgotten football. The leather stayed warm from the lights, but I couldn’t remember the last time the game felt this far away.

18

THE MOTIF

AYLA

The man was a blue-eyed gift to women who liked looking at men like him. I didn’t know which women didn’t fall into that category—maybe ones without working eyes—but I wasn’t one of them. By now, it wasn’t just his eyes that drew me. He was patient as I guided him through my hair routine, never acting like my crisis was inconvenient. He listened, asked questions, and made it known it mattered to him too. The more I got to know Lennox, the clearer it became: his best feature wasn’t his eyes, but his heart.

That had been my problem all day. My body forgot how to body every time he was near me. My arms didn’t know what to do. My hands just existed at my sides. So while Lennox looked cool through the photoshoot, even when dropping balls, I was channeling a baby giraffe on roller skates.

The worst part was the limping. My knee throbbed all morning, but I thought I could work around it. Lennox tracked my gait twice before the shoot started. I overcorrected both times, putting extra weight on the bad leg to prove I was fine, which made the pain worse. By the time the photographer wrapped, the pain was intense. As Lennox iced my knee, my chest ached. Not from the pain, but because of him.

Now we were in the interview chairs, angled toward each other. I was trying to be professional while the memory of his hands on my skin was still warm. Our interviewer was named Priya, and we all wore the brand’s jackets.

“We’ll keep things conversational,” Priya said, settling into her chair. “Think of it as the two of you just talking.”

Lennox glanced at me sideways. “We can do that.”

Priya opened with an easy one. “So, I have to address the origin story here. This campaign is about two athletes recovering and coming back stronger, and you two connect to that theme. Lennox, you ran into Ayla on the sideline earlier this season. What was your first impression of each other?”

Lennox gestured for me to start.

“My first impression was that he was heavy.”

Lennox stared at me as Priya chuckled.

“Heavy?” he said.

“Yes. You’re enormous. You landed on me like a luxury car.”

Lennox cracked up. “I’m very athletic.”

“Athletic and dense.”

Priya laughed. I crossed my bandaged leg over the other. Lennox dropped his head into his hand, shaking it, while I sat there, pleased with myself.

“Okay, so Lennox, what was your first impression of Ayla?” Priya asked.

Lennox leaned back in his chair, looking like he was giving the question serious thought. “My first impression was that she was flexible. I hit her, and she folded like a pretzel.”

My jaw dropped.

Priya burst out laughing. “No.”

He nodded, straight-faced. “Yup.”

I slapped his arm while Priya and I laughed. “You’re horrible.”