Chapter 1 #2
Cal laughed. “Of course you did.”
I looked between them. “Do you two know each other?”
Caleb’s grin widened. “Know each other? Mars, this is Jalen Carter.”
That name landed.
Even I knew that name.
Jalen Carter Star wide receiver. Face on billboards. Jersey sales through the roof. One of the most talked about players in the league and also Cal's guest on the show today.
Shit.
“And this,” Cal continued, clearly enjoying himself now, “This my sister. Also my publicist. Also the person who runs my entire life.”
Something in my brain clicked into place immediately. The part that knew how to sit up straight, how to smile without giving too much away, how to recover with grace.
I turned back to Jalen and held out my hand.
“It’s nice to meet you,” I said easily.
He took my hand, his grip warm and steady, eyes flicking to mine with a hint of something amused behind them.
“Likewise,” he said.
Cal laughed and slid an arm around Jalen’s shoulders, pulling him in with familiar, brotherly energy.
“It’s good to see you, man,” he said. “Come on, let’s get you settled before you start stealing my staff.”
Jalen chuckled but let himself be guided, glancing back at me once as they started walking toward the studio.
I watched them for a second, still processing the fact that I had just flirted with one of the most famous athletes in the country and didn't even realize it.
I hadn’t even taken three steps before someone slid up beside me.
“Wow,” a voice said. “God really does have favorites.”
I didn’t have to look to know it was Andre.
He shook his head slowly, eyes still fixed down the hall where Jalen had disappeared. “That man is disrespectfully attractive.”
I shrugged. “He’s alright.”
Andre stopped walking.
Turned fully toward me.
“Alright,” he repeated. “Mars. Please. That is a professional athlete built like a luxury vehicle.”
“And yet,” I said calmly, “still just a man.”
Andre stared at me for a second, then burst out laughing. “You are unbelievable.”
He pulled me into a quick hug, the kind that felt more like a squeeze than a greeting. “I missed you. Even though you pretend you don’t exist in the real world.”
“I exist,” I said. “Digitally.”
He stepped back and looked me over. “You ignored my dinner invite last week.”
“I was busy.”
“You were at home.”
“I was busy at home.”
He rolled his eyes dramatically. “You turned down a reservation at Bludorn for frozen dumplings and reality TV.”
“That’s balance.”
“Girl, whatever." We walked toward the studio together, the hallway buzzing with staff and movement.
Andre leaned in. “Do you know how many people just lost their minds in the control room over that man?” he said, circling right back to Jalen as we approached the studio.
“I don’t see the big deal,” I said, lying to myself. Because clearly that man looked good as hell.
We reached the studio doors, and Andre held one open as we walked inside.
The room was already humming when we walked in.
Low voices. Soft music playing through the speakers. Crew moving with quiet purpose, headsets on, coffee cups balanced on equipment cases. The kind of controlled chaos that felt normal here.
Andre peeled off toward his station, still shaking his head like he hadn’t emotionally recovered from Jalen’s existence.
I headed toward the seating area behind the cameras, the little section where producers and crew watched the show through glass and monitors. Not glamorous. Just functional. Exactly where I preferred to be.
As I crossed the room, I felt it.
Not a stare in the obvious sense. Just awareness. The kind that made you know someone was tracking your movement without needing to look.
Jalen.
I kept my face neutral and my pace steady, pretending I was deeply invested in literally anything else.
Someone handed me a stack of papers. Run of show. Talking points. Sponsor notes. All the things that normally got emailed while I watched from home.
“Thanks,” I said automatically, already flipping through them.
I told myself to focus. This was work. Just another guest. Just another interview.
But I could feel his attention in the same way you feel heat from the sun through a window. Not intrusive. Just present.
I glanced up briefly.
He was standing near the main chair now, letting a sound tech clip a mic to his shirt. Calm. Relaxed. Laughing quietly at something someone said.
And still, somehow, his eyes shifted back to me.
Not in a way that made a scene. Just enough to let me know he’d noticed I existed beyond the elevator.
I smirked and looked back down at my papers, lips pressing together slightly.
Get it together.
I turned a page. Adjusted my posture. Acted like I wasn’t aware of anything happening five feet to my left.
But the moment the tech stepped away from him, I felt it again.
That small, unmistakable shift in the room.
Like attention had weight.
And it had just landed on me.
I tried to ignore the feeling. Shook it off the way I always did when something started to linger longer than it should.
It wasn’t like I didn’t notice men. I did. I flirted. I went out. I enjoyed attention the same way I enjoyed good food or good music. In the moment. Light. No expectations attached.
I just never let it go anywhere serious.
Love always felt like something other people invested in more than me. Something loud and messy and full of unnecessary feelings. I preferred things simple. Clean. Temporary.
Maybe it was the Capricorn in me. Maybe it was just experience.
Either way, I’d learned early that attachment came with complications I didn’t feel like managing. So I kept things casual. Surface level. Fun without consequence.
I liked my life the way it was. Structured. Predictable. Safe.
And whatever this quiet awareness was that kept pulling my attention back toward him, I told myself it was nothing more than a passing distraction.
I flipped another page, forced my focus back to the notes in front of me, and reminded myself that I didn’t come here for feelings.
By the time everything was set and the cameras were rolling, I was already halfway convinced I didn’t need to be here.
Cal had fixed whatever crisis he’d invented on his own. The systems were fine. The crew was relaxed. Nobody was on fire.
I stood up slowly, ready to slip out the same way I came in.
“Ah ah,” Cal said without looking at me. “You’re not going anywhere.”
I froze mid-step.
Jalen glanced at me at the same time, amusement flickering across his face.
Cal looked over his shoulder at me, eyebrows raised in that familiar way.
“Stay,” he said. “Please. I don’t get you in the building often. I enjoy you being here.”
Reluctantly, I took a deep breath.
“Come on,” he said, “we can grab happy hour afterward.”
Unfair. If there was one thing my brother knew how to do, it was make saying no feel impossible. And the only thing I liked more than staying home was eating, and I didn’t mind civilization when it involved food.
“Fine,” I said. “But I’m choosing the spot.”
He smiled knowing he had gotten his way. “Of course you are.”
I sat back down.
The podcast started.
Cal’s voice shifted into host mode instantly. Confident. Smooth. The version of him everyone else knew. The one that somehow managed to sound like he was talking to millions of people and one person at the same time.