Because I didn’t want to just show up and smile. I wanted to prove I wasn’t some lazy, cocky golden boy winging it through leadership.
I wanted to show the world that I was capable of doing this my way and not fumbling.
Footsteps echoed down the hallway outside. Micah’s voice filtered in, followed by another familiar one.
I stepped back from the mirror, just as the door creaked open.
This time, it was Teddy who walked in, braid neat and draped over her shoulder, expression already halfway betweenget this over withandsay one wrong thing and I’ll break your femur.
And she looked good. Fuck me. That navy dress made her eyes even bluer than normal. The material skimmed over her thighs and pulled in at her waist like it had been made with her in mind. But it was her posture that got me, shoulders back, chin set, every inch of her radiating unshakeable energy. She didn’t just look beautiful, she looked strong. She owned the damn room the second she stepped into it.
Her eyes flicked to mine for a heartbeat, catching me staring at her, but she looked away just as fast, leaving me with very little air to breathe.
“Good morning.” I tried not to let my voice wobble.
“Is it?” she replied, not breaking stride as she dropped her water bottle on the bench and slipped off her heels. “I haven’t had coffee, and I agreed to this under mild emotional duress.”
“I’m with you on that,” I chuffed a sound, understanding her frustrations. Neither of us wanted to do this, yet here we were.
She glanced at me then, just long enough to clock the starched shirt and suit. Her eyebrows twitched upward. “You look like you’re running for office.”
“Good,” I said. “I’m trying to win the vote of the Valkyries front row.”
Her lips twitched—barely—but it was there. A crack in the armor.
Then the PR assistant poked her head in. “You’re both needed in five. They’re setting up the mics now.”
“Thanks, Daphne.” Then Teddy turned to me, exhaled, and for a second, the tension slipped.
“Ready to go play nice for the cameras?” she asked.
“Ready as I’ll ever be.”
***
We were ushered out onto the small media stage in the Valkyries’ room, the same one Teddy and I negotiated in this week. Except it had been converted for the morning with a branded black backdrop, lights, mic stands set, and a semi-circle of local press, league reps, and a few social media staff crouched with phones, ready to go live.
Teddy took her spot on the left side of the chairs without looking at me.
I took mine on the right.
The PR manager—a chirpy blonde woman with a headset and lots of confidence for eight a.m.—stepped up to the mic. I’d already forgotten her name, and I added another thing to my never-ending list: make sure you know everyone’s names in the Valkyries’ office.
“Thank you all for joining us this morning. As you know, due to recent earthquake damage, the Knights stadium is undergoing significant repairs. At this time, we don’t have a timescale for when it’ll be back up and running. It’s an unfortunate event, but the Valkyries have kindly offered to share facilities for the foreseeable future. We’re excited to launch this joint campaign that will highlight unity, resilience, community,and hopefully, in the future, we will be able to host a fundraiser for those affected by the earthquake.”
She gestured to us.
“Captains Sloane and O’Riley have come together to represent both teams as we enter this new chapter. They’ll each say a few words, then we’ll open for questions.”
She stepped back. The silence stretched like a cable ready to snap, but it was brief because Teddy took a half-step forward, confidence oozing from her like it usually did.
“Thank you for being here,” she said, clear and calm. “We know this season comes with unique challenges. Sharing a stadium isn’t ideal for either side’s schedules, but it’s an opportunity to show what collaboration in sports can look like. The Valkyries are proud to host. We’re committed to making this work, for both teams and the city.”
Polite applause. A few camera shutters clicked.
She made it look easy. Like saying all the right things was just another drill she’d already mastered. It was annoying. And impressive as hell. And everything that made my blood boil when we were in college together. There was nothing Teddy loved more than getting the upper hand on me. It didn’t happen that often; my fragile youthful ego wouldn’t allow it, but there were times I missed that challenge with her. Seeing this perfected version of the girl I knew is definitely making me feel… something.
I straightened and adjusted the mic in front of me. Tried not to sound like I was still thinking about the way her voice had just filled the room.
