[18+] ENEMIES TO LOVERS SPORTS ROMANCE
She can't stand the school's golden boy, but when fate keeps throwing them together, their rivalry starts to look a lot like chemistry-and suddenly they're not playing the game they thought they were.
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Hannah
The green room in the Draft Theatre was cold.
Not freezing, but the kind of cold that seeped into the metal legs of the folding chairs and raised goosebumps on my arms. Or maybe that was just me — nerves had a way of making everything feel colder.
We were all gathered around a circular table draped in a black cloth, untouched bottles of champagne nestled in ice buckets at the center. Tristan sat in the middle, his arm wrapped loosely around his mother's shoulders, while his eyes stayed glued to the TV screen. Violet had been steadily losing tears over the last hour, the tissue box in her lap growing lighter by the minute.
Behind them, Tristan's agent stood with his face lit by the blue glow of his phone. His dad sat on his other side him, posture rigid and gaze also locked on the screen. Next to him was Tristan's older brother, Caleb, absently tapping one long finger against the table. Every so often, he'd glance at his baby brother, then back to the screen, like he needed to confirm this was all real. I got it. I was doing the same thing.
His sister had stayed back home with her kids since her husband couldn't get out of work, but most of his family was here, scattered across their hotel rooms, watching everything go down on live TV. I could only imagine the chaos in the group chat with our friends. I knew for a fact that Jace was probably pacing in front of the TV, gripping his hair like an overbearing mother hen. No one stressed harder over Tristan than my brother. It was... adorable.
We'd been in Vegas for three days, but it already felt like three weeks. So it had been a whirlwind of nonstop obligations stacked on top of each other. Events, dinners, interviews, talk shows, meetings. I'd accompanied Tristan to a few, playing the part of the supportive girlfriend. Sat there smiling while he talked stats and business with men in designer suits and million-dollar watches. I didn't understand half of it, but I didn't need to — I was just there to hold his hand under the table when his knee started bouncing.
I was getting better at this.
The version of my life that involved Tristan was also the version that required me to figure things out fast. I had to learn how to exist in crowds I never thought I'd be in, and smile at people who asked me questions like they were curious, but really just wanted something they could spin into a headline. I wasn't complaining. I'd signed up for this when I fell for him — for all of him, not just the parts that belonged to me in private.
I was getting used to it now. The chaos. It had become a strange kind of normal.
Since we'd barely had a moment to ourselves since we landed in Vegas, I spent most of my time exploring the city with his family, getting to know them. They readily accepted me with warm hugs and easy smiles, so it was no hardship. If anything, it made me realize what a real family could be — and deepened the disappointment I had in my own. More than ever, I could feel myself withdrawing from my mother's controlling influence.
