“It was.” My voice is rough, lower than I mean it to be. “But after that, I went to the academy every day I could. That’s where I met Cormac, been my best mate ever since. Back then, it was the only place that felt safe. That’s why I rebuilt it so the next kid with a shite home can have somewhere to go.”
Her fingers tighten around mine, grounding me.
“You did that. You took something awful and made it good again. That’s… beautiful, Rogue.”
I can’t look away. Her eyes are shining, and something sharp and sweet cuts through my chest.
“You make it sound like I’m some kind of saint.”
She shakes her head, smiling faintly. “No. Just someone who cares more than he lets on.”
That gets me. I huff a laugh and glance down at our hands still joined on the table. I should pull away, but I don’t.
“You’ve clearly watched too many bloody romance movies, kitten.”
“Maybe.” Her smile widens. “Or maybe I just know a hero when I see one.”
Christ, this woman. “You shouldn’t say things like that.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’ll start to believe you.”
The air thickens, electric. Neither of us move. The café fades into a blur of sound and light, and all I can think about is how warm her hand feels against mine, how the sunlight finds the tiny freckles on her nose, how easy it’d be to lean forward just a little more.
Her tongue darts out to wet her bottom lip, and my pulse stumbles. She’s looking at me like she sees every part of me I’ve tried to hide, and for the first time, I don’t feel the urge to look away.
The waitress arrives with our drinks, breaking the spell. Catalina pulls her hand back, cheeks flushed, tucking a strand ofhair behind her ear. I wrap both hands around my mug, trying to ignore how cold they suddenly feel.
She stirs her latte with a straw, voice barely above a whisper. “Does your dad still live in Ireland?”
“Aye,” I say after a long moment. “Haven’t seen him in years. Not since Mam’s funeral.”
Her eyes flicker with sympathy I don’t want but somehow don’t hate. “Do you miss home?”
“I do,” I admit. “But the game took me away young. Every pitch since has been a bit of home.”
She smiles softly. “Maybe that’s why you guard it so fiercely.”
I glance up at her, and she’s already watching me. God help me, she’s too much. The kind of woman who sneaks under your skin without even trying.
A silence stretches between us, warm and pulsing. I don’t think, just reach across the table, fingertips brushing hers. She jerks but doesn’t pull away. The jolt that follows is instant, alive, and far too easy to crave.
She draws in a breath, quick. I feel it more than I hear it.
I want to say something,dosomething, but I’ve spent a lifetime keeping myself in control. My hand twitches, wanting to stay there, but I drag it back before I forget myself. I swallow it all down and force a smile. “You ready?”
She nods, eyes still locked on mine. “Yeah.”
“Come on, then.” I stand, then hold the door open for her. “Walk you back.”
She hesitates, biting her lip, then slips past me, close enough for her shoulder to brush my arm. The scent of her floods my head.
Outside, the sunlight hits her hair, turning it gold. She looks over her shoulder, smiling like she doesn’t know she’s killing me. “Thanks for coffee, Gallagher.”
I smirk, voice low. “Anytime, kitten.”
She rolls her eyes, but the blush on her cheeks betrays her. As she walks ahead toward the boardwalk, the breeze catches her shirt, the hem lifting just enough to tease.
