The doors slid shut.
I pressed a hand over my racing heart as the train lurched forward.
It had only taken one kiss to crack every wall I’d spent years building.
5
MICAH
By the time I dragged my ass out of bed Monday afternoon, my body felt like I’d taken a hit from a freight train. West Coast games always messed with my rhythm, and last night’s late start hadn’t helped. We didn’t land until almost five, which meant it had been close to six thirty when I made it up to my place and collapsed, face-first on my mattress, still fully clothed. I slept for almost twelve hours straight.
Showered, dressed, and finally feeling vaguely human, I headed straight for the deli.
It had been a week since the first time I kissed her in front of the train. I’d done it again every night until I’d had to leave for our last preseason game. The more time I spent with my girl, the harder I missed her when I was away.
The Tight Line glowed warm in the evening darkness, the last of the dinner crowd trailing out as I stepped inside. The overhead lights were dimmed for closing, while soft, classic rock hummed through the speakers. It was quiet and calm, except for the faint clatter of trays and metal in the back.
My eyes scanned the room quickly, and I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding when I found Rylin.
Damn, she was beautiful.
She was behind the counter, her hair twisted up in one of those messy knots that showed off the delicate line of her neck as she wiped down the prep surfaces. Moving fast and focused, she furrowed her brows like she was in some kind of internal debate with herself. Her oversized T-shirt—one of ours, with The Tight Line’s logo across the chest—hung loose over her frame, tucked into black joggers that hugged her hips just right. The shirt swallowed her upper half but was somehow more tempting. Making it hard to think of anything except what was hiding underneath the loose fabric.
I wandered over to the opposite end of the counter. She didn’t notice me at first, so I leaned against it, arms crossed, just watching her. Soaking in the sight that I had missed more than I should after only forty-eight hours.
I wasn’t doing a damn thing to help like I normally did, too caught up in what I was feeling. I loved being near her. She grounded me. Even when she wasn’t looking at me, she felt like mine.
“Hey,” I said after a beat.
She startled, turning fast. When she saw it was me, she relaxed. Kind of. Her shoulders dropped a little, but her hands still held tight to the spray bottle and rag.
“You scared me.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to.” I pushed off the counter and came around to her side, stepping into her space.
She tensed for half a second, then let out a breath. “You’re back late.”
“Night game on the West Coast. We left right away, getting in around five, then I still had to get back to my place from Long Island.”
Her forehead puckered adorably when she frowned. “Did you sleep?”
“Yeah. I almost didn’t make it to my bed.” She giggled, and I let my eyes roam over her face, taking in the blush on her cheeks, her rosy lips, and soft hazel eyes. Fuck, she was cute like this. Except she looked beyond tired—even exhausted seemed like too tame a word to describe it. “You?”
She shrugged. “Not much.”
Frowning, I reached out and brushed my thumb along her cheek. Her breath caught, and her lashes fluttered. That did something to me. Everything about her did.
“You need someone to take care of you,” I murmured. “I want to take care of you.”
As I’d hoped, she softened rather than freezing up and pulling away.
We stood there for a moment, neither of us moving, the space between us thick with unspoken words and only thoughts of soft touches.
Finally, she opened her mouth to say something, but her gaze darted to the counter, and she frowned.
“Crap.” She reached for a spiral-bound notebook lying on the counter. “I didn’t mean to leave this out. I?—”
She grabbed for it, but her elbow caught a tray, and the whole thing tipped. The notebook tumbled to the floor and landed open, pages splayed wide. She dove for it, but I was faster. Years of reflexes made sure of it.
