The stadium was empty now. The lights were dimmed, the roar of the crowd just a memory. Joe Burrow sat on the metal bleachers, hoodie up, tossing a football lightly between his hands. She was next to him, legs swinging, eyes fixed on the moonlit field.

They weren't supposed to be there—somehow that made it better.

She had snuck in with him after a charity event, both of them dodging security like kids. The night was crisp, quiet, and full of something that felt like possibility.

“You really love this place, huh?” she asked, looking around.

“Not as much as I love talking to you,” Joe said, glancing at her with that easy smile.

She laughed. “Smooth.”

He shrugged. “I mean it. I love how you talk. But more than that... I love how you listen. Late at night, when there’s no one else. When the noise is gone. That’s when I see you—beautiful, funny, smart… like nothing I’ve ever seen.”