"Maybe we should."
The rest of the match passes in a blur of good soccer and even better company. Hot Metal wins 3-1, with Cara assisting on the final goal, and the crowd erupts in cheers. As we stand to applaud, I notice several people openly taking photos of us.
"We've been spotted," I murmur to Lena.
"Good." She claps enthusiastically. "Adam looks like he's about to have an aneurysm."
Sure enough, Adam is staring at us from the sideline, his professional composure wavering. One of his clients is trying to get his attention, but his focus is completely on us.
As we exit with the crowd, I feel my phone vibrate with an incoming call. I check the screen and see Brian's name.
"My agent," I explain to Lena. "Should I take it?"
"Go ahead," she says. "I'll wait."
I answer as we step into a quieter area near the exit. "Hey, Brian."
"A-Stag, what the hell are you doing? BuzzTalk is exploding with photos of you and the dentist at the soccer game."
"Watching soccer," I reply innocently. "Cara played great."
"Don't play dumb with me, kid. Is this some kind of revenge date? Because if so, we need to coordinate our messaging."
"It's not a date," I say, though the denial feels strange on my tongue. "Lena's staying at my place temporarily because her ex is fucking mine. We're friends."
"Friends," Brian repeats skeptically. "The kind of friends who hold hands at sporting events?"
I glance at Lena, who's examining a Hot Metal team poster with exaggerated interest, clearly trying not to eavesdrop.
“I was helping her up the stairs,” I insist. "But if people want to think otherwise... I'm not going to correct them."
Brian sighs heavily. "Fine. But if this blows up, don't say I didn't warn you. Adam is definitely not chill, and the team has rules about fraternization."
"We're not fraternizing," I argue. "We're... coexisting."
"Whatever you say, A-Stag. Just be careful." He hangs up without saying goodbye, typical Brian style.
I rejoin Lena, who raises a questioning eyebrow. "Everything okay?"
"Fine. Brian's just being Brian."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning he's worried about optics." I guide us toward the exit.
"Mission accomplished then?" she asks as we step into the warm evening air.
"Definitely." I spot Adam across the parking lot, frantically typing on his phone while his clients wait. We walk to my car in comfortable silence, the energy of the evening settling around us. It's not until we're driving home that Lena speaks again.
"Do you think we went too far?" she asks quietly. "With the public appearance thing?"
I consider this. "We didn't actually do anything except watch a soccer match together."
"True, but we knew what people would think. What they'd say."
"Does that bother you?"
She's quiet for a moment. "Not exactly. It's just... I don't want to create more problems. For you, for the team."
