“Don’t lie to me, Knox. I’ve known you too long. You’ve been a sad little meatloaf all week.”
Jace appears behind us, holding two beers and a questionable bright red shot. “What’s this about meatloaf?”
Nova takes a beer from Jace. “Josie’s coming.”
Jace’s grin widens instantly. “Good. About time. Maybe now you’ll stop walking around like a haunted lumberjack.”
I roll my eyes, but my heart’s thudding now, too fast. Too loud.
Part of me wants to run. The other part, stronger, wants to see her.
Because I miss her.
Even when we’re inches apart at work, I miss her. And yeah, she shut me down after shift, brushed me off with that soft little smile, but I don’t want things to be done between us. “It’s complicated, Knox,” is all she said, but maybe she’s not done. Maybe she’s still figuring it out. Maybe she’s still thinking about me too.
Nova nudges me. “Don’t get weird when she shows up.”
“I’m not going to get weird.”
“You always get weird.”
“I donot.”
“You tried to compliment her hair yesterday and panicked halfway through and told her she smelled like ‘minty professionalism.’”
I groan, scrubbing a hand down my face. “Okay, yeah, that was bad. I didn’t know you heard that.”
Jace slaps my back. “Breathe, man. It’s a girl. Not a hostage negotiation. Be yourself. Unless yourself says, ‘minty professionalism’ again. In which case, go with literally anything else.”
“Wow. That was wildly unhelpful.”
He sips his beer. “I’m here for vibes, not emotional intelligence.”
But even as I glare at both of them, I feel the edges of my mood shift. Just a little.
And when that door swings open and Josie walks in, cheeks flushed from the cold, Maya glittering beside her, Gracie clutching a scarf like armor, I swear the whole damn room changes.
I don’t even pretend not to stare.
She sees me.
And for a second, the noise fades.
She doesn’t smile.
But she doesn’t look away either.
And maybe that’s all the permission I need.
I slide off the barstool, carefully, like she might bolt if I move too fast. Jace lets out a quiet, “Atta boy,” behind me, but doesn’t follow. He knows this moment’s mine.
Josie’s still standing inside the door, snowflakes melting into the ends of her hair, cheeks flushed, eyes unreadable. She looks stunning in that soft, oversized sweater and tight jeans, but it’s the way she looks at me, like she’s not sure if she’s mad or relieved to see me, that guts me.
I stop in front of her. Not too close. Not touching. Just… close.
“Hey,” I say quietly, over the buzz of the bar.
She tugs one glove off, fingers smoothing her hair back like she needs something to do with her hands. “Hey.”
