Date Night
New York had given them anonymity.
Well...
Almost.
Leah loved that Americans generally had no idea who she was.
She could walk into coffee shops.
Browse bookstores.
Stand in queues.
No one asking for photographs.
No one shouting, "Captain!"
It felt wonderfully strange.
Until Elle smiled.
"You know what we haven't done yet?"
Leah looked up from her coffee.
"What?"
"A proper date."
Leah frowned.
"We've had loads."
"No."
Elle shook her head.
"I mean a proper New York date."
Interesting.
"What does that involve?"
Elle grinned.
"You'll see."
Two hours later Leah was standing outside the Barclays Center in Brooklyn wearing jeans, a white T-shirt and a navy Yankees cap pulled low over her face.
She looked around.
"You brought me to basketball."
"I brought you to the WNBA."
"Difference?"
Elle stared at her.
"Leah."
"I'm joking."
"You better be."
Truthfully...
Leah had always loved watching elite athletes.
Didn't matter the sport.
Excellence was excellence.
Inside, the arena buzzed with energy.
Music echoed through the stands.
Children queued for merchandise.
Fans filled the lower bowl long before tip-off.
"This is brilliant," Leah admitted as they found their court side seats.
"I knew you'd like it."
Leah settled back carefully, stretching her injured ankle out.
Elle noticed immediately.
Without saying a word, she gently rested a hand on Leah's knee.
Checking.
Always checking.
Leah smiled.
"I'm okay."
"I know."
But her hand stayed there anyway.
The game was incredible.
Fast.
Physical.
Skilful.
Leah found herself applauding brilliant defensive plays almost as much as the scoring.
"You are such a centre-back."
"What?"
"You celebrated a block."
"It was an excellent block."
Elle laughed.
"Normal people cheer baskets."
"Defending wins championships."
"That is the most Leah Williamson sentence ever spoken."
By half-time they'd shared popcorn, argued over basketball rules and somehow become emotionally invested in a team neither of them supported.
Perfect date.
Or so they thought.
Late in the third quarter the arena camera began scanning the crowd.
Fans waved wildly every time it landed nearby.
Leah paid absolutely no attention.
Instead she was leaning towards Elle, laughing at something she'd whispered.
Without thinking, Leah slipped one arm around Elle's shoulders.
Elle instinctively leaned into her, her own arm sliding comfortably around Leah's waist.
Natural.
Comfortable.
Home.
Neither noticed the camera lingering for several seconds.
Neither noticed the fans in the section behind them beginning to whisper.
"Isn't that..."
"No way."
"It is."
A teenager a few rows back quietly lifted her phone.
Then another.
Then another.
Leah remained completely oblivious.
"So," Elle smiled.
"Still think football's the better sport?"
Leah pretended to consider it.
"For today..."
She leaned over and kissed the top of Elle's head.
"...I'll allow basketball."
The teenager behind them physically gasped.
"Oh my God."
Her friend looked over.
"That's Leah Williamson."
Within minutes photographs had found their way onto social media.
Not posed.
Not professional.
Just one candid moment.
England's captain sitting with her arm around the woman she loved.
Both laughing.
Both completely lost in each other.
Someone captioned it:
Another wrote:
The photographs spread faster than either of them could have imagined.
By the final buzzer they still had no idea.
Walking hand in hand out of the arena, Leah stopped to let a little girl wearing a basketball jersey pass.
"You had fun?"
Elle asked.
Leah nodded.
"I loved it."
"You'll come again?"
"Absolutely."
Then she smiled mischievously.
"But next time..."
"What?"
"I'm teaching you the offside law."
Elle groaned dramatically.
"I preferred basketball."
Back at the apartment, Leah disappeared into the shower while Elle curled up on the sofa with her phone.
Thirty-seven notifications.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
She opened Instagram.
The first post made her laugh out loud.
The second made her shake her head.
The third...
"Leah?"
The bathroom door opened slightly.
"What?"
"I think we've accidentally gone viral."
Leah appeared in the doorway, towel draped around her neck.
"What have we done now?"
Elle turned the phone around.
There they were.
Arms around each other.
Leah smiling at her like nobody else existed.
The comments were endless.
Leah stared at the photograph for a long moment.
Then quietly smiled.
"They caught a good moment."
Elle looked up.
"It wasn't a moment."
"What do you mean?"
Elle stood, walking over until she slipped both arms around Leah's waist.
"It's just us."
Leah looked down at her.
Then kissed her gently.
Slowly.
Comfortably.
Like they had all evening.
Outside, New York carried on without noticing.
Inside, the internet continued sharing photographs of England's captain looking completely and utterly in love.
For once...
Neither of them minded being seen.