Late night UConn players’ suite — everyone’s relaxing post-win.

Sweatpants, baggy tees, music low, food everywhere. You’re curled up on the carpet near the couch, still in a cropped UConn Cheer hoodie and little pajama shorts. Legs tucked up, socked feet brushing against Aubrey’s thigh where she’s seated behind you on the couch.

And across from you, Paige Bueckers — all lazy charm and wolfish grins — hasn’t stopped watching you for twenty minutes.

“You always wear your socks mismatched?” Paige asks suddenly, pointing down at your feet.

You laugh. “On accident. Or maybe for attention. Who knows.”

“Mmm. Worked either way.”

Aubrey’s hand stiffens where it’s resting behind you on the couch cushion.

You feel it — the small shift in her body. Not a word spoken, but the energy around her changes. She’s quiet. Too quiet. Which is exactly why Paige keeps going.

“I always knew dancers were flexible,” Paige drawls, taking a sip of her Gatorade. “But you… you got that pretty brat energy too.”

Your cheeks flush. A few other players chuckle, a couple of them whistling under their breath.

Aubrey leans forward, bracing her elbows on her knees beside you. Her voice is low and flat.

“Paige.”

“Yeah?”

“You flirting with someone else’s girl right now, or just trying to piss me off?”

A beat of silence. Paige raises her eyebrows. “Didn’t know she was taken. She never said anything.”

You open your mouth, but Aubrey’s hand slides around your waist and pulls you back into her lap like it’s second nature. Her chin rests heavy on your shoulder, voice near your ear.

“She didn’t have to say it. I said it.”

KK laughs under her breath, whispering “Ohhh, shit,” into her drink.

You feel Aubrey’s grip tighten, calm but firm. Her palm drags slow circles along your thigh, like a warning.

“You done now?” she says toward Paige, still smiling.

Paige smirks. “You always this territorial?”

“Only when someone doesn’t know how to look away.”

You can’t breathe. Your heart’s in your throat. Because the room is quiet now, and everyone’s watching.

You feel tiny in Aubrey’s lap. Like hers. Like everyone else can see it too.

“You good, baby?” she murmurs to you quietly, lips brushing your cheek.

You nod, eyes wide, pulse thumping.

She lets it hang there. Her hand still around your waist, her presence wrapped around you like a net. And Paige? Paige raises her hands in surrender.

“Alright, alright. Chill. I’ll behave.”

But she’s still smiling. And Aubrey’s still watching her. Not smiling at all.