Micah snorted again. I tried to find the will. Thankfully, I dug deep enough.
“I’m not saying I will watch,” Evie added, “but Icould.”
“And I’m saying if I catch anyone trying to spy on Knight training, I’ll assign burpees until your legs forget how to function.”
A few groans sounded. Music to my ears because it meant they heard me.
Someone, probably Evie, muttered something about Connor’s thighs under her breath, and I raised my voice just enough to prove my point.
“That goes double for any of you who confuse mutual pitch access with a dating app. You can drool on your own time. I’ve got enough to manage without checking the turf for puddles.”
That got a real laugh from a few of them.
Micah clapped once. “Alright, that’s enough. Recovery’s over. Let’s move. We’re onto game plays.”
As the squad started gathering their things and heading out, I caught Micah’s glance and the knowing smirk on her face.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing,” she said, too casually. “Just enjoying the sight of you being completely unfazed by the idea of Connor O’Riley’s biceps in your gym.”
I rolled my eyes. “Please. I’ve got bigger things to focus on.”
“Mmhm,” she said. “Like his glutes.”
I swatted her with my water bottle.
***
As the girls filed out and Micah headed toward the gym, I grabbed my hoodie from the bench and slung it over one shoulder, ready to call it a day. My bed was calling my name and I…
“Teddy.”
Well, there goes that plan.
Coach Emery gestured to me from outside her office, phone still in hand, glasses low on her nose. “You got a minute?”
I pivoted toward her. “Always for you, Coach.”
She nodded toward the quiet end of the hallway. We walked a few steps before she spoke again. “First off—good work handling O’Riley. Micah sang your praises.”
“I appreciate that.”
Then her tone shifted. “I’m not going to beat around the bush with you. It’s been a long day, and I’m tired, as I’m sure you are.”
I nodded.
“Management wants a press release tomorrow to announce everything. There’s going to be a joint PR campaign that launches in the morning. You and O’Riley are the face of it.”
I stopped walking alongside her. “Wait—What?”
“It’s all been approved. Hashtags, media plan, photos, articles,” she said, like that would soften the blow. Social media wasn’t my favorite thing. “Press release starts at eight a.m.”
“Just me and him?”
“You’re both captains and the media want something palatable. Two leaders will likely have more charisma anyway.”
My mouth opened, but I was torn between whether to argue or scream. More time than I’d ever planned with Connor wasn’t on my bingo card. Why does the universe think it’s hilarious to force us together? I’d worked damn hard to minimize all our crossovers in the stadium, but this wasn’t supposed to be part of the plan.
