Page 58 of Stuck with my Guarded MVP
I was going to miss this. The quiet mornings. The chipped mug. The way she looked half-asleep until her first sip. Not that I was going to say that out loud.
“Yeah, but... I figured you’d like the upside.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“You’ll be free to microwave at will,” I said, deadpan. “No judgment. No eye rolls. No unsolicited culinary interventions.”
She gave me a fake, slow gasp. “You mean I can defile gourmet leftovers without the Kitchen Police knocking down my door?”
“Exactly. Your microwave kingdom awaits.”
She smirked. “I might go wild. Heat something up at eighty percent power instead of full blast.”
“Reckless,” I said. “Completely unhinged behavior.”
She laughed softly, then took another sip of coffee. “I’ll try not to burn the place down.”
“I’d appreciate that.”
She wrapped both hands around her mug, then glanced up at me. “I’ll miss hearing your pans clanking,” she said lightly. “And the smell of garlic hitting the skillet.”
My chest tightened, just a little. She held my gaze, then added, softer this time, “Stay locked in.”
I smiled, one corner of my mouth tipping up.
“Always.”
Coming into the second stop of a road trip after a win always felt lighter. The guys were loose, the coaches less grim, and I didn’t have to mute the group text.
I sat on the team bus, legs stretched in the aisle, earbuds in, half-reading the same paragraph for the third time. Outside, the skyline rolled past in winter gray. Slush lined the curbs. A few fans had recognized us at the last red light and started taking selfies with the bus in the background.
My phone buzzed. Once. Then again.
Claire.
Sorry for the interruption. The girls are doing a cooking show. You’ve been unanimously elected as judge.
Then came the photo, Emma, Sophie, and Claire laughing in the background. Emma had a colander on her head. Sophie was wrapped in aluminum foil like a baked potato with limbs.
Filming has begun. You’re the judge. Chef Sparkles, that's my stage name, and her crew await your verdict.
A second photo arrived, Sophie pointing dramatically at a lopsided cupcake, frosting sliding off the side, rainbow sprinkles clinging for dear life.
We call this one Disaster Soufflé. Thoughts?
I smiled before I could stop myself.
I may have to deduct points for uneven sprinkle distribution.
Across the aisle, someone snorted. I looked up. "Who's got you grinning like an idiot?" Dex said. Rookie forward. Too observant.
I locked my phone and dropped it facedown on my leg. "I’m just amused."
Dex raised an eyebrow, clearly hoping I would elaborate. I didn’t answer. Just put my earbuds back in. But when the next light hit the window and my screen lit up again, I tapped it back on. Just to look.
The girls want to thank you
A selfie this time, Claire holding the phone, just her arm in frame. Emma mid-smirk. Sophie flashing jazz hands in her foil armor. Claire in the middle, grinning like she’d already lost control of the kitchen, and didn’t mind one bit.
