Page 8 of Catching Feelings

The contact sends a tiny jolt through my fingers and all the way up my spine. Because I was fantasizing about her hands on my chest just a few moments ago? Be professional, Tyler. This girl wants to erase that first meeting from the record. Don’t make it weird.

I clear my throat. “What can I do for you?”

She looks relieved. “We need to add you to the school website. The “Meet the Team” section has a profile on every player, and it will be very embarrassing if we don’t have a section for this year’s newest recruit.”

I blink. “Embarrassing? You mean, people would notice?”

Sabrina’s eyes widen. “Oh yes. We have a very engaged fan base here. I’m honestly shocked I haven’t gotten complaints about my negligence yet.”

The photographer, who I’ve entirely forgotten about, nods as he raises the camera to his face and starts snapping away. I do my best to smile. I keep forgetting just what an intense athletics program I’ve joined. “Then go ahead. What do you need from me?”

“Just a few questions.” Sabrina swipes open her phone and looks up at me expectantly. “For starters, what brought you to Hamilton Lakes? Especially as a senior transfer?”

My mouth goes dry. No way am I telling her the full truth to be blasted all over some school website. But I’m also not here to lie to the girl.

“Hamilton Lakes has a great program,” I say carefully. “Coach Herman has led the team to championships for three years now, and it sounded pretty nice to be one of his players instead of playing against them.” I flash her my best smile for good measure.

All true.

And definitely not answering her question.

Sabrina’s eyes narrow. Damn, the smile didn’t get her? That’s never happened before.

My pulse flutters even faster.

“It’s the best program,” she says. There’s a hint of challenge in her voice. “What would you say are the top three moments that drew you here? If it made you leave your last school, you must’ve been studying for a while.”

I raise an eyebrow. She thinks she’ll get me with that? I did my homework. “Number three, Tommy Li’s touchdown in ’25 almost convinced me I could be a running back. Number two, the entire passing game in ’24’s championship game, like they were operating on pure instinct. Number one, the perfect execution of the flea-flicker last season.” I hold her gaze. “Enough said.”

She raises an eyebrow right back. “A true scholar of the game.”

I can’t resist. “Indeed. There’s a brain under all these muscles.”

Her gaze flicks down to my chest once more, and when she glances back up, it’s with a tiny smirk. Like she doesn’t mind if I tease her a little about what happened the other day. Like she hasn’t forgotten it either.

But then she looks back at her phone. She scrolls furiously down her screen, frowning. Clearly not satisfied with the answers I’ve given her, but she’s not about to get anything else. I slump with relief, but then her eyes meet mine again.

As I stare into their dark, almost navy blue, I realize: I am not out of the woods yet. This girl’s not letting me go until I give her something worth printing.

“A fun question to wrap it up, then.” She smiles that glittering smile again. “For the fans. You single? Or you leave somebody pining away for you back home?”

I nearly choke on my own saliva, overwhelmed by the surprise of the question and the memories it brings with it. Kate’s face under the streetlights, worried and farther away than she should be. The increasing distance between her messages, until she said, maybe we shouldn’t talk as much anymore. The pictures of her hanging out at all our old places—the school steps and my favorite coffee shop and the playground down the street from her house. Except this time, I wasn’t there, and she was with Santi and Jared.

And even John. A lot more than she ever used to be.

Sabrina watches as it all flickers across my face.

“Nobody pining for me,” I finally manage. “Only a clean break. So… yeah. I’m single.”

“Good.” She nods, then flushes again. She stammers, “I mean, not that it matters, but good to know. Good for the profile, good for the fans. People are gonna love you.”

She pulls herself together one deliberate move at a time, straightening her posture and tightening the ribbon around her ponytail and fixing her smile. Becoming just the head of the Spirit Committee again.

But her eyes are stuck on my face—reluctant to break eye contact—and I can’t help wondering if it’s more than just stubborn professionalism.

It almost helps me forget the memories stirred up by her interview.

Almost makes me wish I had it in me to fall for another girl this year.