I steal another glance toward the stands, and there she is, looking at me with so much pride it physically aches.
Not because I scored.
Not because I wore the armband.
Not because I played well.
Because she sees me.
The real me.
The messy, stubborn, terrified idiot underneath all of it.
And bloody hell, that might be the best feeling in the world.
The locker room is electric after the final whistle, buzzing like we won the bloody league and not a tight 1-0 match. We didn’t just scrape by—we earned it. After a stretch of matches where it felt like points were impossible to come by, we won.
I’ve got a grin plastered on my face, but I roll my eyes when I spot Matt hovering in the corner, camera in tow. He corners me before I have the chance to duck into the showers.
“So, Bradshaw,” he says, pushing himself close to me. “You were really on one today. Anything in particular fuel that performance?”
“I don’t know,” I say casually. “It was a great team performance. Good to bounce back after the last few and take three points.”
“Yes,” Matt says, not thrilled by my group-effort answer. “Itwasa great team performance, but you were on another level.”
I shrug, flashing a clipped, media-trained smile. “I guess I just felt a fire today.”
Not a lie. Not the whole truth.
Matt nods to the cameraman behind him and moves around the locker room to get shots of the lads celebrating.
I close my eyes like I can still see her, in the crowd, in my kit.
Yeah, I was on fire today.
But it wasn’t tactics.
It was her.
I hit the showers quickly, throw on fresh clothes, and head away from the noise toward Luke’s office for some physio. My knee has felt tight lately. It’s nothing serious, just the glamorous life of professional football.
Plus, I like the quiet after a match and everyone’s left. It’s the calm after the storm.
Especially when I want to replay one image over and over in my mind.
35
in the dressing room
FALSE GOD BY TAYLOR SWIFT
The stadium is quiet now. Dead quiet. Pippa and Luke left a while ago. They asked me to come back with them to their place for dinner, but I lied and said I had some media mess to clean up.
I don’t. I just didn’t want to endure more of Pippa’s questioning, especially since Luke doesn’t know a thing.
The hallways are empty. The only noise is the echo of my footsteps. There’s no cheers. No music. Even Matt and his crew are long gone, thank god. I should have left hours ago, but something is keeping me here, some pull I can’t explain.
I slip into the empty locker room slowly, like I’m somewhere I shouldn’t be. I’ve been in here countless times, but never alone. Never without the team filling the room with laughter, tossing towels and water bottles over my head like confetti. I feel like I’m sneaking around, snooping even.
