“I’m fine, girl. Just working out.”
“Halo.”
I stopped mid-rep. Tessa had been my best friend since we were kids. She’d transferred to Silverrun two months ago, which meant she was the only person here who knew me before Lieutenant Grant, before the hashtag, before all of this.
“I lost Mama’s bracelet,” I said quietly. “At that fire.”
Her face fell. “Oh, Halo. I’m sorry.”
“I’ve looked everywhere. It’s gone.” My jaw tightened. “Feels like I lost her all over again. I should have gotten it fixed. It's my own fault.”
“It’s not your fault. That scene was chaos. You can’t blame yourself for that.”
I hated that a part of me still needed proof she was watching over me. That bracelet had been it. Without it, I felt naked. Not physically. Spiritually.
I nodded, but the ache wouldn’t budge. I’d felt off all week. Heavy. Like something was missing and I couldn’t figure out what, beyond the obvious.
“I’m praying it shows up.”
“Yeah. Me too.”
We were working through squats when the TV above our heads switched to SportsCenter. My body tensed before my brain caught up. DaVinci Bryns filled the screen, sitting across from the host in a perfectly tailored suit, looking unfairly good yet again.
“There goes your man, girl,” Tessa sang, grinning at me through the mirror.
“Here you go.”
“Yep, here I go, there go ya man.”
“I don’t know what would possess you to say that. Nobody is thinking about that man.”
“Girl, bye. I was THERE. I saw how he looked at you. The way you grabbed his shirt. That man hasn’t stopped thinking about you all week, I guarantee it.”
Tessa had seen everything. She’d been the one to tell me DaVinci wanted to speak with me after the fire was out. She’d also watched me refuse and walk away. And she’d been giving me shit about it ever since.
Before I could argue, she turned up the volume. I tried not to get lost in those dark eyes. I tried even harder not to let his voice slide through me like that. But it was a losing battle.
“DaVinci, thanks for joining us. First, we want to apologize for what happened to your home last week. Our hearts go out to you.”
“I appreciate that,” DaVinci said. “It’s been a transition, but nothing I’m not built for. What I will say is this…first responders don’t get enough credit. They show up at five in the morning, risk their lives, and do their jobs with excellence regardless of who’s watching. They deserve more recognition than athletes like me. So to everyone out there doing that work—thank you. If you’re watching, thank you.”
My squat faltered.
“Oh my god,” Tessa shrieked, dropping her weights. “Did he just shoot his shot at you? On National TV?”
“He didn’t—”
“Halo, that man just said ‘if you’re watching’ on SportsCenter. That was not a general thank you. Don’t be slow.”
I grabbed my towel, trying to ignore the way my heart was doing things it had no business doing. “If it’s not directed, it’s not respected. He could be speaking to anyone.”
“Oh, cut the shit,” Tessa said, staring at me. “That was a message. And you know it.”
I did know it. That’s what made it worse.
“What am I supposed to do with that, Tessa? Show up at his next game with a sign?”
“You could start by admitting you’re interested, even if it’s just a little bit.”
