HE'S GOING TO BE A PROBLEM

SIENNA ~

I didn’t get the pastries until almost noon.

Maya was already at our usual spot two blocks from the arena, the little café that still smelled like real coffee instead of the watered-down stuff they served in the players’ lounge. She had claimed the corner table by the window and was scrolling through her phone with one hand while the other held a half-eaten almond croissant.

She looked up when I walked in and grinned. “You look like someone just told you the season starts tomorrow.”

“Feels like it.” I dropped into the chair across from her and reached for the second pastry she’d already ordered. “Your brother's been in my office twice before ten. Once for a protein bar. Once just to stand there and exist.”

Maya’s eyebrows went up. “He’s always been intense about training. You know that.”

“This isn’t training intensity.” I tore off a piece of croissant and chewed slowly. “This is something else.”

She watched me for a second, then leaned forward. “Okay. Spill. You’ve got that look.”

“What look?”

“The one you get when you’re trying not to feel something and it’s pissing you off.”

I pointed at her with the remaining piece of pastry. “I do not have a look.”

“You do. You’ve had it since the draft party when he walked in wearing that stupid black suit and you almost dropped your drink.”

I almost choked. “That was two years ago and I was already divorced and half a glass of wine in. It doesn’t count.”

Maya laughed softly. “It counts. You’ve been careful around him ever since.”

I didn’t answer. Mostly because she wasn’t wrong.

We finished the pastries in comfortable quiet for a few minutes. Maya filled me in on the new client at her marketing firm, some tech guy who kept calling her “babe” in emails.

I told her about the meal-plan adjustments for the third line and the fact that one of the veterans still refused to eat anything green unless I threatened to tell Cole.

When I mentioned Cole, Maya’s expression flickered for half a second. Just a tiny shift. I almost missed it.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Fine.” She waved it off. “Just tired. Late night.”

I let it go. Maya never hid things from me for long. If something was going on, she’d tell me when she was ready.

My phone buzzed on the table. Another message from my ex. I flipped it face-down without reading it.

Maya noticed. “Still with the dog?”

“Every other day now. He’s threatening full custody of Bear if I don’t ‘reconsider the settlement terms.’” I made air quotes with my fingers. “Apparently having a viral video of his ex hanging around the team is bad for his image.”

“There is no video,” Maya said carefully.

“Yet.” I sat back. “But he’s circling. And if something does leak, he’ll use it. He always does.”

Maya reached across the table and squeezed my wrist. “We’ve got you. Whatever happens.”

I nodded, but the knot in my stomach stayed put.

We paid and walked back toward the arena together. The afternoon sun was sharp, bouncing off the glass of the practice facility. Players were starting to filter in for the second session.

I spotted Kai immediately. He was on the far side of the lot, leaning against his truck, talking to one of the other rookies. When he looked up and saw us, his whole posture changed. Straightened. Focused.

Maya waved. He lifted his chin in greeting but his eyes stayed on me the entire time we crossed the parking lot.

“I’m going to head up to the offices,” Maya said, already pulling out her badge. “Text me later.”

I watched her go, then turned toward the side entrance that led straight to the nutrition wing. I made it three steps before a shadow fell across the sidewalk beside me.

“You left without saying goodbye earlier.”

Kai’s voice was quiet, but it still landed low in my chest.

I kept walking. “I was working.”

“You’re always working.” He fell into step with me easily, long legs matching my shorter stride without effort. “Maya said you two were getting coffee. You should’ve invited me.”

“You don’t drink coffee.”

“I’d have drunk whatever you ordered.”

I stopped at the door and turned to face him. Up close, the afternoon light caught the gold in his eyes and the faint bruise on his jaw from yesterday’s practice. He looked younger like this. Or maybe just more honest.

“Kai.” I kept my voice even. “You can’t keep doing this.”

“Doing what?”

“Showing up. Looking at me like that. Making everything harder than it already is.”

He didn’t pretend to misunderstand. He just held my gaze, “I’m not trying to make it harder. I’m just done pretending I don’t want to be near you.”

The words sat between us, heavy and too honest for a public sidewalk.

I exhaled. “You’re twenty-two.”

“I’m aware.”

“I’m your sister’s best friend. Like a big sister”

“Also aware.”

“And I work for the team that just signed you to a multi-year deal.”

He stepped closer. Not enough to touch. Just enough that I had to tip my chin up to keep looking at him. “I know every single reason this is complicated, Sienna. I’ve known them for years. I’m still standing here.”

My pulse was too loud in my ears. I could feel the heat of him even through the space between us. Somewhere behind us a car door slammed. Voices drifted across the lot. Normal afternoon noise that suddenly felt very far away.

“I need you to go inside,” I said quietly. “And I need you to stop looking at me like that hence.”

His jaw flexed once. Then he nodded slowly, like he was filing the words away for later.

“Okay,” he said. “For now.”

He stepped back, turned, and walked toward the main entrance without another word. I watched him go until the glass doors swallowed him, then I pushed into the side hallway and let the cool air hit my face.

My hands were not steady.

I made it to my office, closed the door, and leaned against it for a full ten seconds before I trusted myself to move. The protein bars on the shelf still looked exactly the same. The meal plans on my tablet were still waiting. Nothing in the room had changed.

Everything outside of it had.

I sat down, pulled up the afternoon schedule, and forced my focus onto numbers and macros and recovery windows. Work was safe. Work was the one place I still knew the rules.

Twenty minutes later a soft knock sounded.

Cole stepped in, tablet under one arm, expression unreadable. “You got a second?”

“Always.”

He closed the door and leaned against it the same way I had. “Kai just asked me to adjust his recovery plan. Said he wants more lower-body focus this week. Any idea why?”

I kept my eyes on the screen. “He’s a rookie. They all overthink everything.”

Cole was quiet long enough that I finally looked up. His gaze was steady, thoughtful. The kind of look that meant he already knew more than he was saying.

“He’s different around you,” Cole said eventually. “Has been since he got called up.”

“I’m the nutritionist. He’s supposed to be different around me.”

“That’s not what I mean and you know it.”

I set the tablet down. “Cole. Don’t start.”

He held up both hands. “Not my business. Just… be careful. The kid’s got a lot riding on this season. So do you.”

He left before I could answer. The silence he left behind felt heavier than before.

I stared at the closed door for a long time.

Then I picked up my phone, ignored the three new messages from my ex, and opened the thread with Maya instead.

Me:

Your brother is going to be a problem.

The three dots appeared almost immediately.

Maya:

I know.

I’ve known for a while.

Question is… what are you going to do about it?