“Now I’m ‘girl’?” Piper laughed.
She stopped walking. “Practice in the mirror tonight with feeling.”
“Bye, girl,” Piper replied with a wink.
***
Seattle
Seattle was not just wet but colder than it should be as Noah got out of meetings.
He walked into the team lounge, scanning the room. Darius was standing in front of the lounge TV.
“You need to see this.”
“No, I don’t,” Noah replied.
“Yes. You really do,” Darius said as he grabbed Noah and pulled him on the couch. Darius grabbed his phone and hit play. About thirty seconds in, some fully employed commentator said, with total seriousness, “There’s an intimacy to the competition.”
“An intimacy.”
“I didn’t say it. A man on television said it.”
Darius thumbed to the next segment. Fan reactions, edits, a post with five million followers calling themBrokeback Mountain in shoulder pads. He nearly dropped the remote, laughing. “This country is broken.”
Noah took the remote and muted the TV. “You spend too much time online.”
“No. The internet spends too much time on you.”
He didn’t have a counter.
“You good?” Darius asked.
“Yeah.”
“Liar.”
Noah smiled faintly. “You trying to be my shrink again?”
“Support implies emotional labor. I’m just nosy as fuck.”
Darius glanced from the screen to Noah, voice softer. “Is there something there?”
Noah looked at the screen. He could have lied and he almost did. “There’s enough there that I should probably shut up.”
Darius nodded. No shock, no crisis, just one practical nod. “Cool.”
“Cool.”
“You still throw touchdowns, I still have rent, life goes on.”
He stood, stretching. “Also, if this turns into a public disaster, I expect details after.”
“That’s blackmail.”
“That’s friendship.”
He headed for the door and glanced back. “And maybe don’t let the media figure it out before you do.”
