Rayah clucked. “Take it easy, Dez baby. Let your poor stylist keep her job for the day.”
Eva’s voice cut through the banter. “There’s a lot of commotion in here.”
I turned in my chair just as she stepped into the room. Her braids were gone, replaced by a sleek middle part, her hair flowing down her back in perfect waves. I had to admit, the whole look was stunning. But it wasn’t just the hair or the makeup—everything about Eva made me feel some kind of way.
“Middle part, bussin’,” I said under my breath, trying to make light of how stunning she looked.
She shot me a playful grin, brushing some hair out of her eyes. “You think so?”
I nodded. “I do. But I like you with the braids, too. I like you no matter the version.”
“Well, lucky for you, you geteveryversion,” she teased.
“Don’t laugh,” I said, before she could say anything else. “I look like a clown, don’t I?”
“Not even close,” Eva said, stepping in front of me, her eyes scanning my face. “You’re a very pretty girl, Lex.”
Jazz grinned in her seat beside me. “Next thing you know, they’ll have you on billboards.”
From across the room, Dez let out a low laugh. “Billboards? Please. She’s gonna start asking for her own dressing room.”
Jazz snorted. “And bottled water flown in from the Alps.”
A woman with khaki pants and a headset poked her head into the locker room. “Team Embers,” she said, “you’re up next.”
We shuffled out into the main gym, the hardwood polished to a mirror shine, cameras and softbox lights set up in neat rows. Players from a different team were lined up against a massive backdrop with their team logo while the photographer barked out friendly instructions.
“Alright, big smiles. One with arms crossed. Now mean mug. That’s it. Beautiful.”
Briana stood off to the side, directing traffic so we stayed on schedule. She spotted our approach and immediately started pointing. “Arika, you’re on the left side. Lex, middle row. Eva—front and center. Let’s go.”
The team shots went by in a hurry—tall bodies in the back, short ones kneeling in the front, coaches stepping in for a shot or two. A few silly poses snuck in when the photographer wasn’t looking.
Individual headshots came next. One by one, we rotated through the bright lights. Eva tilted her head just so, like she’d been born in front of a camera. Dez gave a smirk that was pure defiance. Rayah pursed her lips and blew a kiss. Arika threw up two fingers in a peace sign.
I’d just finished my solo shots when I heard Briana again. “Hey, before you move on—let’s get a few of Eva and Lex together.”
The request hung in the air for a moment too long. I felt the pressure of curious eyes turning our way.
“This just got interesting,” Dez grunted.
Eva didn’t hesitate. She crossed the floor toward me with a smooth, unhurried stride, the kind that made people step out of her way without realizing it.
“Ready?” she asked, her voice soft enough for just me.
I wasn’t sure if she meant the pictures or the unwanted attention, but I nodded anyway.
The photographer waved us into place. “Alright, shoulder to shoulder. Good. Now face each other just a bit—yeah, perfect. Big smiles. Now serious. There it is.”
Eva’s arm brushed mine, warm even through the fabric of her arm sleeve. The camera lights flashed. It felt surreal, this moment of standing side by side, our relationship laid out in front of everyone—open and unapologetic. I could feel the weight of the room. Hear the quiet murmurings from the otherplayers who looked on. See the subtle glances shared between them.
Somewhere behind us, someone made a kissing noise loud enough to ruin at least one shot.
The photographer laughed and set down her camera. “Alright, that’s a wrap for you two.”
We walked off to the side, but I could still hear the lingering whispers behind us. I could feel the awkwardness creeping in.
When media dayphotography had wrapped up, we were ushered back to the arena for a meet-and-greet with fans. We couldn’t let all that hair and makeup go to waste. The noise hit me like a tidal wave as soon as we stepped into the venue—fans, flashing lights, the hum of excited chatter. The walls of the gym were lined with tables and booths, all emblazoned with sponsor logos and the banners of our respective teams. It was the kind of event I’d been to dozens of times in college and in my rookie year in the pros, but it felt different that day with Eva by my side, her hand warm in mine, and me hyper-aware of the world around us.
