Page 66 of Colliding with Ten

“It happened more than once. Someone on their side wanted to know how you were progressing.”

I didn’t know anyone on the Stallions except Lennox, and even that barely counted. He didn’t seem like someone ruled by emotion. Still, butterflies stirred in my gut at the thought he might be asking about me.

Maybe it was the organization, or some risk-management person making sure a lawsuit wasn’t on the horizon. That made more sense than the alternative. But the alternative was still there, and it made me flush.

Hill glanced over his shoulder at me. “You’ve nothing to say?”

I cleared my throat. “Did you tell them anything?”

“No. Not without your consent. Even then, I’d keep it minimal. You’re not their athlete. They already knew about the injury from that night. So I reassured them you were improving and then fed them stories about you and AJ.”

“AJ and I?”

“Yeah. That’s why I think the request was personal. No team would care about how you and AJ fight like siblings.”

He went back to the sleeves. “Just thought you’d want to know.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

He had to be mistaken. The most logical explanation was the right one. I almost believed it.

Meadow found me in the kitchen the next evening when AJ was at a team dinner. She sat across from me at the breakfast table, browsing her phone.

“I have to show you something,” she said. “I don’t want you to get blindsided.”

I furrowed my brow. “What’s up?”

She showed me her phone. It was a video of Lennox and me. We looked relaxed together, laughing, and the memory brought a smile.

“When was this posted?”

“A day, maybe. It’s gone viral.”

My first thought was of the Hawks. I was in their training room every day, earning trust, and now footage of me looking very comfortable with the rival quarterback was all over the internet. This fellowship was important, and I needed people to take me seriously. The last thing I wanted was for this to become a story.

But that worry fell away when Meadow showed me the comments section. Everyone knew you should never read the comments. The fanfic contingent was there. That I could handle. The ones calling me lucky, or questioning what I had to offer Monroe, weren’t surprising. Though I had asked myself those same questions, it still stung. But some of the others were harder to scroll past without them ripping into me.

She’s not even pretty

Why does she look like that next to him?

He could do so much better

Imagine choosing her over Shay

Someone give her some sunscreen, lots of it, lmaooo

She should’ve stayed down when she got hit

I should have expected it. A Black woman doesn’t get to exist near a rich white man with a jawline and a fanbase without somebody acting like it was the 1800s again. A ball formed in my throat as tears brimmed. Sweat gathered in my palms. I put her phone on the table.

Meadow was watching me. “Ayla.”

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t have to be fine.”

“I know.” I exhaled. “I’m fine.”