The room was still dim, painted in soft gray-blue light from the sliver of dawn pushing through the blinds. Her body was heavy, warm, still humming from the way he’d woken her hours ago—tender, slow, so deep it had made her cry out his name until her voice broke.
She reached out instinctively, but the space beside her was cold.
Her eyes fluttered open.
Dylan stood across the room, shirtless, a pair of jeans zipped but unbuttoned as he slipped socks into his duffel. His back was to her, all wide shoulders and tense muscle. His movements were careful. Quiet.
He didn’t want to wake me.
Her chest tightened.
She watched him for a moment—his hand brushing over the toothbrush he’d left on her sink, the way he folded his sweatshirt instead of cramming it in. He wasn’t just leaving. He was trying to leave gently.
And somehow, that hurt worse.
“Hey,” she rasped, voice still coated in sleep.
Dylan froze.
Then he turned, eyes soft and apologetic as he crossed back to her side of the bed.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said, crouching down beside her. He reached up and brushed her hair back from her face. “I was trying to let you sleep.”
Ali blinked up at him. “What time is it?”
“Little before six.” His thumb dragged gently across her cheekbone. “I’ve got an eight-thirty flight.”
Right. Of course.
He’d told her last night. She just didn’t want to believe it.
She swallowed hard, throat tight. “You were just gonna sneak out?”
He shook his head. “No. I was gonna kiss you before I left. I swear.”
Ali nodded, but the ache in her chest only grew.
Dylan exhaled and leaned his forehead against hers. “I don’t want to go.”
“I know.”
“I’ve got training this week. Kallie’s been on my ass. And Peterson wants me back for drills this week.”
She nodded again, her fingers finding his. “I know, Dylan.”
He kissed her, soft and lingering, like he didn’t want to let go.
“I’m gonna text you when I land,” he murmured. “I’m gonna call you tonight. And tomorrow. And every day until I see you again.”
Ali smiled, small and sleepy. “Okay.”
“I’m serious,” he said, voice rough now. “This doesn’t stop because I have to leave. You and me? We’re not over.”
“I know,” she whispered. “I believe you.”
Dylan pressed another kiss to her lips, then to her forehead, then finally stood.
Ali watched him finish packing through blurry eyes, heart heavy but full.
