“Are you sure this dress is okay?” I ask for probably the tenth time as I pull back from Quinn to look down at myself, smoothing the skirt of my dress again and fiddling with the sleeves.
The cream, fitted dress with a deep-V neckline, three-quarter-length sleeves, and a pencil skirt that I paired with a black belt around my waist and black heels felt like the right choice to wear tonight, but now I’m second-guessing everything, and I don’t want to make Quinn look bad. We’ve been out in public plenty of times since the press conference, and fans have been nothing but supportive, but this is big. This is an exhibition at the stadium, so family and friends, press, and VIP fans can see all the hard work that’s been going on. All eyes will be on us, whether we’re on the field together or not.
Grabbing my hips, Quinn yanks me back against him, and my hands fly up to his chest.
“You look absolutely perfect. It’s gonna be a good night.”
My heart flutters as he reaches up and brushes a lock of hair out of my eyes, then leans down and kisses my forehead as he slowly rocks us back and forth. Just like the last time, the muffled sounds of music can be heard floating down through the tunnel, where the sound system at the stadium is currently blasting warm-up music.
“We’ve got to stop meeting like this in the locker room.” I smile at Quinn, laughing in his arms as he slow dances us to “Turn Down for What.”
Grabbing one of my hands off his chest, Quinn spins me around until my back is to him, before wrapping his arms around me and tugging me back against him. Dipping his head down to press his cheek to mine, we both look around the expansive, carpeted room.
“Yeah, but this time it’s your locker room.”
A shaky breath comes out of me as I look around the Sharks cheerleaders’ locker room, which construction was just finished on a few days ago. With custom-made wooden lockers lining the walls, crisp and clean cheerleading uniforms hanging on each one, glossy photos of each cheerleader mounted on the walls above the lockers, a wall of makeup tables and lighted mirrors for each cheerleader across from the lockers, with a kitchen and a weight room attached, it’s every bit as perfect and fancy as the football players’ locker room, right across the tunnel from this one.
There’s no stopping the huge smile that takes over my face when my eyes land on my absolute favorite part of the locker room—two industrial, glass-door refrigerators standing side by side next to the door that leads out to the tunnel. One filled to the brim with bottled water, and the other filled with every flavor sports drink they make.
“You did it, baby. I’m so proud of you,” Quinn whispers as I sniffle and turn back around in his arms before I start crying all over again, like I did the first time I walked in here yesterday.
The last six weeks have been a complete whirlwind that started with me accepting the job offer when I walked into Jeanie’s office. Or should I say, when Quinn dragged me into the office, told Jeanie I was taking the job, then kissed me on the cheek, and walked out of the room.
Quinn dared me to have it all, and there’s no way I could say no to a dare like that.
And with how quickly everything happened afterward, I didn’t have time to worry about what everyone would think about me accepting the job as the new director of the Sharks Cheerleading Organization. Quinn supported me, and that’s all that mattered.
Ten hours after meeting with Jeanie and signing my contract with the Sharks, after a much-needed shower, nap, and multiple rounds of sex with Quinn, I came back to the stadium to meet with forty young women I hoped wouldn’t have a bad opinion of me after everything that had been in the media. But unbeknownst to Jeanie until right after that first lunch we had together at The Varsity Club, the Sharks’s cheerleaders had suffered similar treatment at the hands of their previous director and were more than welcoming to me when I took over, and I made sure they had everything they could possibly need to do the jobs they were hired to do.
And the absolute best part of my job is that Jeanie told me I was more than welcome to use the dance studio on Summersweet Island to hold practices, if it was more convenient for me. Not only is it more convenient for me, and that dance studio is the place I grew up training in that holds a lot of special memories for me, but the girls absolutely love the privacy and quaintness of the island and freak out every time I schedule a practice there, instead of the studio by the stadium. And since the Sharks pay for whatever facilities I use, as well as food and lodging for the girls if needed, it means more revenue coming to my hometown, and there’s definitely nothing wrong with that.