Joe Burrow was no stranger to the electric atmosphere of game day—the roar of the crowd, the pounding of his heart as he stepped onto the field, the focused intensity that took over the second the ball was snapped. But today, there was something, or rather someone, throwing off his usual laser focus.

You.

Standing on the sidelines in the opposing team’s colors, cheering against him with a bright, confident smile. He had noticed you before the game even started, your energy infectious, your movements sharp and effortless as you led the crowd in chants meant to rattle his team. And for the first time in a long time, Joe found himself distracted.

It wasn’t just that you were stunning, though that was undeniable. It was the way you carried yourself—so full of life, so caught up in the moment, completely unaware of the way his eyes kept flicking toward you in between plays. Even as he locked in on the game, reading the defense, calling out audibles, part of his mind kept replaying the way you had smiled, the way you had tossed your hair back and laughed with your fellow cheerleaders.

At some point, during a break in the action, Joe found himself near your side of the field. He caught your gaze, and for just a second, something playful flickered in his expression. He tilted his head slightly, a small, knowing smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“You really gonna cheer against me all night?” he teased, his voice just low enough for you to hear over the noise of the stadium.

When you grinned, raising an eyebrow as if to challenge him, he couldn’t help but chuckle.

By the time the game was winding down, Joe had done what he always did—stayed cool under pressure, led his team with precision, and, ultimately, secured the win. But even as the clock hit zero, his mind was already on something else.

Jogging past the opposing sideline, he found you again, this time with a knowing glint in his eyes. “Guess I’ll have to find another way to win you over,” he murmured before disappearing into the celebration.