Overtime

6: Talk of the Locker Room

I finally headed back to my car around six. I signed a season contract with May and gasped when I saw my salary. It was almost double what I had made at the college, and I had the free will to take whatever pictures I wanted.

I wore a smile almost too big for my mouth. I am going to love this job. I just had to break the news to Vanderbilt that I could no longer work for them.

I will spend five days a week with my camera and get great perks, which my friends will love.

I opened the exit doors and breathed as I stepped into the parking lot. "Julia," a voice said. I jumped, turning to face the voice.

Miles pushes off the wall, walking towards me. I bite my lip as I take him in. He's showered, and he's unfortunately in dry clothes. At least his hair is still wet. "How'd you know I was here?"

"Not every day we have a hot chick on the field."

I blush, "I didn't know people were watching me."

"Talk of the locker room."

I looked at him wide-eyed, "Miles, please tell me you're joking." I didn't think he saw me, and I didn't think anyone saw me. I didn't make eye contact with any of them, and no one spoke to me besides the other photographers.

He chuckles, ignoring my concerning question. "What are you doing now?"

He's asking me what I'm doing. I'm going to throw up. "Going home."

"You wanna grab dinner?"

My heart is going to explode. I wish I knew how red my face was now. "Where?"

"Do you like Chipotle?"

I tuck my hair behind my head, "I love Chipotle."

"You want to ride with me? I'll bring you back here after." I bite my lip and nod. "Alright, then, let's eat." The girls are going to flip out. I need to tell them, or else Amber may think I died.

Miles leads me to his very expensive-looking truck. It was blacked out, and I have to remind myself he makes millions yearly. He will probably laugh if he sees my Honda CRV with the giant key scrape down the side, courteous of the girl my ex-boyfriend was cheating on me with. She thought she was Carrie Underwood.

He opens the door for me, and I almost push him up against the truck and kiss him. The fantasies won't stop. I keep thinking of "what if" scenarios, and they keep getting worse. 

I set my camera bag in the back seat, looking around his car for hints of a woman. I see nothing. There is hardly a speck of dirt in here. The only trash is a half-drunk water bottle in the cup holder.

He begins to drive to a Chipotle, which is different from the one I go to. I keep forgetting he's a celebrity. "Do people bother you when you go to eat?"

He shrugs, "I try to go to the same places so they are used to seeing me. Most of the time, people don't notice. I don't think most people around here are hunting for football players. They want a country singer."

"If I'll be honest, I didn't even know Nashville had an NFL team. I never hear about you. I usually watch the 49ers and teams like that."

"What do you think this giant stadium was used for then?"

I laugh, "I don't know. Soccer?"

He puts his hand over his heart, "That kind of hurts, you know."

"Don't worry, my world will now revolve around the Titans."

He smirks, "So you're gonna work at the stadium?"

"Well, they made an offer I couldn't refuse. It made my old job seem quite pathetic. Thank you, by the way, for the idea."