That’s right. I’m not back. I’m here on business.
Because I’m the boss.
I pin up my hair and shower, and then I freshen up my wavy auburn hair with some curly-girl products Ash got me hooked on.
After my hair is goddess-level big, I slide into one of the same boring gray pantsuits I’ve worn a thousand times before: sharp lines, immaculate tailoring, buttery soft, but with no personality. No heart.
I’m about to close the closet door when I spot Sean’s jersey hanging next to tomorrow’s outfit …
One quick change later, and his name is on my back. I slip into the leggings I’d planned to wear on the plane home and admire myself in the mirror.
Perfect.
I snap a picture and send it to Sean.
KAYLA
Morning, Captain! What do you think of today’s game day outfit?
SEAN
I think my morning just got a lot better seeing that.
Or worse, depending on your perspective.
KAYLA
Worse??
SEAN
You can’t know what it does to a guy seeing his girl wearing his jersey.
KAYLA
“A guy.”
“His girl.”
SEAN
Hypothetically, I mean. You looking that hot with my name across your back doesn’t cause me physical pain, or anything.
KAYLA
Clearly not.
SEAN
Off topic, where might a gorgeous redhead be wearing my jersey today?
KAYLA
Do you mean other than the VIP Suite at the Outlaws’ stadium, surrounded by Aldridge and league rep sycophants?
SEAN
No, I pretty much mean that.
