Page 9 of Off Camera
I watch her move through the crowd of people. She looks over her shoulder when she gets to the door, and her gaze meets mine.
I lift my hand in a wave. Not Claire wiggles her fingers then disappears, and I feel like the smallest human on the planet.
THREE
REID
“I did something stupid.”I collapse onto the couch in the hotel suite where my friends and I are getting ready for Dallas Lansfield’s wedding and stare at the chandelier above me. “And I hate myself for it.”
“We don’t do self-deprecating in this house, Plant Daddy.” Maverick Miller, award-winning hockey player of the DC Stars and an absolute pain in my ass, sits next to me. “Can we get some context, please?”
I roll my eyes at the nickname. “It’s woman-related.”
“Woman-related? I haven’t heard you talk about a girl in years, Mr. I’m-Obsessed-With-My-Phone. Besides your arch-nemesis, of course.”
“He loves her,” Dallas says, frowning at the bowtie he’s trying to put around his neck. “Can’t go a day without mentioning her. You missed today’s rant, Mavvy. It was good. There was something about—shit. What was it? Authenticity? Algorithms? His face got all red and he kept grumbling under his breath.”
I scowl. “Can we not? You’re getting married in thirty minutes and I’m in a great mood. I don’t want to bring it down by talking abouther,” I say.
My eye twitches at the mention of the woman I’ve been feuding with via Instagram and TikTok DMs for the last couple of years. I’ve always loved my job, but lately, the role has evolved into a back-and-forth sparring match with the person behind the Baltimore Thunderhawks accounts.
They used to be an NFL team back in the ‘70s and ‘80s before they were sold and moved out west where they’ve flourished as the Portland Gophers. When an expansion team was granted to Baltimore to replace them decades later, the girl who runs the accounts made a genius move by resurrecting the old theme song that played before games to bring some excitement back to the original name and logo. She created a cult following in the process.
The song has become so popular, fans from opposing teams flood the Thunderhawks posts after a win so they can hear the catchy tune.
I’ve even heard Maverick humming it when he thinks I’m not listening.
I hate it.
I hateher, and I’ve hated her for years.
She tags the DC Titans account whenever we lose, and every now and then, I’ll have a DM from her waiting in our inbox that makes me want to throw my phone across the room.
Any content I post, she repurposes and makes better. She jumps on trends and racks up millions of likes with viral videos while mine don’t gain nearly as much traction. It’s all harmless fun, but my title of winning NFL Social Media Account of the Year for the fourth season in a row is at stake, and I don’t want to lose toher.
There’s been this temptation over the years to look her up on LinkedIn so I can learn who is behind the account, and curiosity has almost gotten the best of me. I typedThunderhawks social media teaminto the search bar once. I was seconds away fromfinding out her true identity before I slammed my laptop shut and walked away.
If I give her that much of my time, if I make it seem like I’m interested in her and give a damn, it means she wins.
The last thing I want is for her to win.
“Sorry.” Maverick holds up his hands, but I know he’s not actually apologizing. He loves to bring her up and piss me off. “Go on. Tell us about your problem. I’m an expert on relationships and love now. I can help.”
“You got engaged to the first woman you’ve ever dated. That doesn’t make you an expert.”
“Fine. Figure it out yourself.”
“Okay.Okay.” I blow out a breath. “I met someone last weekend, and we had a good time. I regret not getting her number, because I can’t stop thinking about her.”
“Why didn’t you get her number?” Dallas asks.
“Right after she left for the restroom, Shawn called and told me about the Griffin Harrison signing. When she got back, she said she had to leave. It was quick and chaotic. By the time I realized I should be asking for her number, she was gone.” I sigh. “She’s gorgeous. She made me laugh, and she even likes comic books.”
“Comic books?” Maverick gasps. “You should’ve taken her to the courthouse and gotten a marriage license on the spot.”
“It amazes me how Emmy fell in love with you,” Dallas says, and Maverick’s eyes turn to hearts at the mention of his fiancée. “I’ve never met someone so clueless in my life.”
“It wasn’t just the comic books. It felt like we had a connection, which sounds so fucking lame when I say it out loud.”
