8 #2
Chairs scraped.
She yelled one more time as the guys started to stand, “What time is curfew?!”
“9PM!” they grumbled.
The team filed out in pairs and clusters, some teasing, some sleepy.
Claire gathered her tablet, tucking it under one arm. Tomorrow, they’d face one of the toughest teams in the league, just the first of many. Tonight they had one job: hold it together.
It was nearly 10pm when Claire wandered into the grocery tucked beside the hotel.
It was the kind of mega store that had one aisle for everything.
She hadn’t planned to go out, she’d just grown tired, but she needed a few things to make it easier for her day tomorrow.
Some tea, fruit, something easy for a snack.
The fluorescent lights of the nearly empty grocery store washed Claire in a pale glow. Her hair, loose from the bun she’d tied that morning, fell in soft, messy waves around her face – strands brushing her cheeks every time she leaned down to inspect a label.
She wore an oversized sweatshirt that looked like it had once belonged to someone else, sleeves pushed up to her elbows, paired with black leggings and what used to be white sneakers dusted with dried mud from wear.
There was a tiredness about her – not unattractive, just natural, and real.
Her face was bare of makeup and her lips looked soft from fresh Chapstick.
She carried herself with quiet efficiency, basket hooked over one arm, eyes scanning the shelves with a kind of focus that only a doctor can have, even at night.
She was starting her way down the tea aisle, humming to the soft pop music playing over the speakers, when she nearly collided with someone rounding the corner.
“Sorry–” she started, before recognition hit.
Noah.
He looked nothing like the captain she saw on the field, or even at the bar. His hair was slightly tousled, a dark hoodie thrown over a t-shirt, a grocery basket with electrolytes, bananas, tampons, and water, dangling from one hand. His expression was equal parts surprise and fatigue.
“Claire,” he said, blinking, using her name for the first time. It sounded nice, when he said it. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
“I could say the same. You should be sleeping by now. They already did room checks.”
He gave an unexpected small, crooked smirk. “Couldn’t. Figured I’d grab some things instead of staring at my ceiling.”
“No books for you tonight, then?” she asked.
There was an easy silence between them for a moment; comfortable, if a little awkward. Then almost without thinking, they fell into step beside each other, comparing what each had grabbed.
“Are those for you?” Claire asked, gesturing to the tampons in Noah’s basket.
Noah glanced down at the contents, then up at her, not realizing that the purchase would be random for an outsider. “These are… for the team.” He said embarrassingly. “We, uh, tape them to our thighs… for lineouts.” He laughed a little. “I guess also for bloody noses and… stuff.”
“One of these days, I will have to learn what a lineout is,” Claire responded.
“Toby… gets lifted”, he was hesitant to explain but Claire remembered seeing Toby get lifted by his bunched shorts.
Claire was listening to him when she stopped, rose onto her toes, and stretched for the last box of breakfast tea on the top shelf, exposing her toned midsection. Her fingers brushed the cardboard edge, just barely–
“Here,” a low voice said behind her.
She turned slightly, catching a glimpse of Noah, helping her.
Before she could answer, he stepped closer, close enough that she felt the warmth of him at her back. His arm lifted easily past her shoulder, muscles shifting beneath his sleeve as he reached for the tea with no effort at all.
For a heartbeat, neither of them moved. She smelled his clean and faintly cedar soap. She heard the steady rhythm of his breath. When he handed her the box, their fingers brushed. The contact was brief and electric.
“Guess you found what you were looking for,” he murmured, voice rough with something else entirely.
Her pulse skipped. “I – yeah. Thanks.”
Noah’s mouth curved, just slightly – not quite a smile, not quite not. He looked down at her, holding her gaze longer than was necessary, and in that suspended moment, the hum of the refrigerator units and the distant beeping at the register seemed to fade away.
Claire swallowed, her fingers tightening around the tea. The air between them felt charged – quiet, dangerous, and full of everything neither of them dared to name.
“You should get some chamomile tea while we are here,” she told him. “It helps with sleep; you should try it sometime.”
He huffed a quiet laugh. “You sound like my psychiatrist”.
“Maybe you should listen to them,” she replied lightly, though her tone softened. “You look tired.”
Noah’s gaze lingered on her for a second longer than necessary, as if weighing whether to respond. Watching. Claire thought that maybe he was about to gently smile.
And there they were, standing suspiciously close, in the tea aisle, when the sliding doors at the front of the store suddenly opened. Another familiar voice cut through the white noise of the store.
“Doc?”
Jack.
He strolled in with the same easy energy he carried everywhere with his hood up and his cheeky smile, but yet, also supposed to be in bed. When he spotted Claire and Noah together, his expression faltered just slightly.
“Hey, Cap,” he said to Noah. Jack did a scan around the grocery store.
He pursed his lips together, making a smooching noise with his mouth.
“Well, this is cozy.” His eyes flicked from Claire to Noah, and back to Claire.
“Didn’t think I’d find the two of you awkwardly standing here at the corner store on a night like this. On the eve of battle, no less.”
Claire didn’t think it was awkward until Jack came in. She didn’t know if Noah felt the same. Claire felt the shift, the unspoken current between the three of them. She forced a polite smile, holding up her basket. “Just getting a couple provisions”.
Noah didn’t say anything, but the look he gave Jack wasn’t one Claire could easily read - steady, quiet, maybe even protective. Suddenly the giant grocery store shrunk to the size of a pea.
Breaking the silence, Jack said to Claire, “Let me take your basket. Pretty women should never carry such trivial things”.
Claire’s fingers brushed Jack’s as he took the basket – his grip was confident, warm, familiar in a way that made her feel comforted. But before she could respond, Noah shifted slightly, his jaw tightening.
“She’s got it,” Noah said, grabbing Jack by the wrist, stopping him in motion. His tone was even but carried a weight that made Jack glance up.
Jack’s grin didn’t falter, but his voice softened, teasing. “Not really the gentleman, eh, Cap? Didn’t offer to carry her things? Guess I’m just old-fashioned.”
“Guess so,” Noah said.
For a moment, none of them moved. The automatic doors slid open again, a rush of cool night air sweeping through the aisle. Claire tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, pretending to study the shelf of herbal teas. Her heart was beating too fast for such an ordinary scene.
“So, Doc, I guess I will see you tomorrow then, at the pre-match meeting. I will need your professionalism there to guide me.” Jack smiled at her, hinting at the inside joke.
Claire gave a small laugh, trying to ease the air between them. “You’ve got a whole team for that, Jack. I just patch you up when you get hurt and ignore advice.”
Noah looked at her then, really looked – he couldn’t quite read her. Jack saw it too, his grin sharpening just slightly, like he’d caught a hint of something and wasn’t sure if he liked it.
“Well,” Jack said finally, setting her basket on the counter at checkout, “I’ll let you two lovebirds finish shopping. Don’t stay up too late, big day tomorrow.” He turned to Noah and joked, “Don’t keep her out past 11, it’s uncouth… Captain.”
He winked, turned, and sauntered toward the exit, not buying anything.
Claire turned to find Noah who still watched the doors, expression unreadable.
When his gaze finally met hers, it wasn’t protective anymore.
It was something else entirely – she didn’t actually know.
But it was something that made her forget to breathe.
A thousand questions swirled in Claire’s mind.
What was Noah thinking? What was Jack playing at?
She couldn’t quite decipher it all, and she knew it would take time to unravel what had just unfolded.