Juniper POV
The arena was still buzzing like a live wire when I slipped out of my seat, the roar of the crowd sticking to my skin even as I moved toward the restricted press tunnel. My legs felt unsteady, the oversized jersey clinging to my back where sweat had gathered during the game. I swore I could still smell the trace of his cologne from when he’d handed me the bag outside the library.
I adjusted my glasses for the hundredth time, muttering under my breath as I navigated the concrete corridor.
“You’re fine, Juniper. This is the plan. Condition One: attend the matches. You showed up. You wore the damn thing. Nolan saw it.”
The self-talk wasn’t helping. My voice echoed off the walls, too loud in the narrow space, but the chaos ahead drowned it out anyway. Reporters swirled like v
