The crowd inside the stadium buzzed with excitement, the hum of voices blending into a low roar as you found your seat. The cool night air carried the scent of popcorn and fresh-cut grass, but none of it compared to the warmth blooming in your chest when you tugged the oversized Yankees jersey tighter around you—his jersey, Judge stitched across the back in bold letters (let's pretend 🤣).

On the field, Aaron Judge stood tall, bat resting casually against his shoulder during warmups. He was focused at first, scanning the stands like he always did, until his gaze landed on you. The second his eyes caught the sight of you in his jersey, his whole face lit up. That unmistakable grin stretched across his face—boyish, radiant, the kind of smile that could make the whole stadium fade away.

Without subtlety, he tipped his chin toward you, pointing to his name sprawled across your back before shaking his head with a laugh. You could see him mouth the words even from a distance, his voice carrying as if it was meant only for you: “Best look ever.”

Throughout the game, he couldn’t help himself. Every time he glanced toward the stands, his eyes found you, his grin widening like it was a secret only the two of you shared. Teammates nudged him between innings, smirking at how distracted he seemed, but Aaron didn’t care. Seeing you in his jersey was better than any home run, better than any highlight reel.

When the game ended and he finally jogged toward you, sweat still on his brow and adrenaline rushing, he reached out with that same grin plastered across his face. “You realize,” he said, voice low and teasing as he leaned close, “you just made my favorite outfit list. And I don’t think anything’s topping it.”