Nine

Some mornings are just... different. You wake up with a feeling you can't quite name, a heaviness behind your ribs that's equal parts excitement and terror. This morning was one of those.

I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying last night's dinner in my head. Paige's voice, her steady presence beside me, the warmth in her eyes—it all felt too close, too vivid. Like I was still there, still leaning into the way her knee brushed mine under the table.

Text me when you get home.

The words had been simple, yet they clung to me, soft and unyielding.

I finally pulled myself out of bed, made a half-hearted attempt at breakfast, and packed up my gear for another day at the gym. The team had a media session scheduled, which meant more candid shots, more interactions, and more Paige.

I wasn't sure if I was ready.

By the time I arrived, the gym was already buzzing. A handful of reporters hovered near the baseline, chatting with coaches and staff while the girls went through warmups. Bright lights from the cameras lit up the court, and the faint hum of interviews filled the air.

"Morning, Inds!" Azzi called, jogging over to me with her usual high-energy grin.

"Morning," I replied, adjusting my camera strap. "You ready for the media circus?"

"Always," she said, striking a mock model pose. "You getting my good side today?"

I laughed, raising my camera. "You don't have a bad side, Az."

"Facts!" Nika shouted from across the gym, earning a round of laughter from the team.

I spent the first hour circling the court, capturing shots of the girls in action. Aaliyah's powerful drives, Lou's smooth jumpers, Nika's theatrical expressions—it was all gold.

And then there was Paige.

She was locked in as always, her focus unwavering even with the cameras and chaos surrounding her. But every so often, her gaze would drift, finding me on the sidelines.

Each time, she'd smirk.

It was infuriating. And distracting.

After practice, the team broke off into small groups for interviews. Paige ended up with one of the more persistent reporters, a guy who seemed intent on asking every cliché question in the book.

"What's it like being the face of UCONN basketball?" he asked, leaning forward as if the answer would change his life.

Paige's smirk barely faltered. "It's a team sport," she said simply. "We all represent UCONN."

The reporter pressed on, clearly fishing for a soundbite, but Paige handled it with her usual cool confidence.

I watched from a distance, my camera trained on her. She caught me looking, her smirk softening into something warmer.

I snapped the shot.

When the media session finally wrapped up, the girls scattered, eager to escape the spotlight. I was busy reviewing my photos when I felt someone step up beside me.

"Got any good ones of me, Baby Girl?"

I didn't need to look up to know it was Paige.

"A few," I said, keeping my tone light. "You're not exactly hard to photograph."

She chuckled, leaning closer to peek at my screen. Her shoulder brushed mine, sending an unwelcome jolt of awareness through me.

"You're good at this," she said after a moment, her voice softer now. "Really good."

I glanced at her, surprised by the sincerity in her tone.

"Thanks," I said, suddenly shy under her gaze.

She lingered for a beat longer, her eyes locked on mine before she straightened up. "See you later, Inds."

And just like that, she was gone, leaving me with a racing heart and a thousand unanswered questions.

———

Later that afternoon, I found myself in the film room, editing photos from the session. The gym was quiet now, the team long gone, and the solitude gave me time to focus—or at least, it was supposed to.

Instead, my mind kept drifting back to Paige.

Her voice. Her smirk. The way she seemed to zero in on me, even in a room full of people.

I sighed, leaning back in my chair. "Get it together, India," I muttered to myself.

But just as I was starting to refocus, my phone buzzed on the desk.

Paige: What are you up to, Baby Girl?

I stared at the screen, my pulse quickening.

Me: Editing photos. You?

Paige: Thinking about you.

I froze, rereading the message at least three times.

Me: Oh, yeah?

Paige: Yeah. Meet me on the rooftop?

The rooftop? Of all places?

Me: Now?

Paige: Now.

The rooftop of the training facility was technically off-limits, but that had never stopped anyone before. By the time I climbed the narrow staircase and pushed open the door, the sun was starting to set, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink.

Paige was already there, leaning against the railing with her hands in her hoodie pockets. She turned as I stepped outside, her smirk soft but unmistakable.

"Hey, Baby Girl," she said, her voice low and inviting.

"Hey," I replied, suddenly hyper-aware of how quiet it was up here.

She gestured toward the railing, and I joined her, the cool evening air brushing against my skin.

"You okay?" she asked, her tone uncharacteristically gentle.

I nodded. "Yeah. Just... a lot on my mind."

"Same," she said, her gaze fixed on the horizon.

For a moment, we just stood there, the silence stretching between us. It wasn't awkward, though. It felt... comfortable.

Finally, she turned to me, her expression more serious now.

"You know, you don't have to be so guarded all the time," she said softly. "It's okay to let people in."

I blinked, caught off guard by her words.

"I—"

But before I could finish, she reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear.

Her hand lingered for just a moment, her fingers warm against my skin.

"Just think about it," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

And then she was gone, leaving me alone on the rooftop with the sunset and a heart that wouldn't stop racing.