I stepped back. "I try to keep it under 70 decibels."
He gestured toward the chair. "Sit. Let’s knock this out."
We went over the list, furniture they'd bring from their old place, what I’d already set up in the apartment, school options for the girls, and the status of the bulk snack situation. I had answers for everything. Of course I did.
"I’ll move out while Brooke and the girls are here," I said, sliding a sticky note onto the folder. "That’ll give you space."
"You don’t have to do that."
"I want to."
"Claire—"
"You’ve all been apart for a few weeks. You need family time." I hesitated, then added, "And honestly, I don’t want to be in the way. You barely see them during the season, and the girls deserve every second of you they can get." I put the folder on his desk. "Besides the third bedroom is shaping up to be your home office. I'd rather not go to sleep watching you look at game films."
He gave me ‘the look’. "You’re stubborn."
"Accurate."
I shifted the folder a few inches to the right. “I’ll probably just find a short-term rental nearby,” I said. “I do want to see Brooke and the girls while they’re here. Help out if they need me.”
The door creaked open behind me.
“Coach, you wanted to see—oh, sorry. Didn’t realize you had someone in here.”
I turned.
Everything slowed.
Tall. Broad-shouldered. Athletic. Hair slightly rumpled like he’d run a hand through it, walking in. Striking green eyes. Definitely the kind of guy I’d glance at once in a coffee shop, then ... well, nothing would happen. That's my life.
But my body hadn’t gotten the memo. A sudden flutter moved through my chest, uninvited and unwelcome.
His gaze locked on mine, sharp and just a fraction too steady. He blinked once, slowly. Like he was recalibrating something.
My spine straightened on instinct.
He stepped into the room, without breaking eye contact, before nodding at Nolan.
My hand tightened around the folder I hadn’t realized I was still holding.
Wait, the apartment tour guy?
"Liam?”
The Offer
Liam
Ipushed open the office door without knocking, still half-scanning the stat sheet I’d grabbed from the locker room printer.
“Coach, you wanted to—”
Then I stopped midstride.
She was sitting across from him. Legs crossed. Back straight. That same calm expression, like nothing ever caught her off guard. Like she belonged there.
My hand froze on the doorframe.
