“Talia,” he says, brow furrowing. “Didn’t know you were coming tonight.”
“I wasn’t,” I admit softly, fighting the urge to step away from Declan. “Plans changed.”
He looks tired, lines etched deep around his eyes. He must have stopped in for food after whatever post-game meetings kept him late. But the exhaustion vanishes under a layer of cold assessment.
He looks at Declan.
This isn’t a friendly look. It’s not a coach looking at his starting goalie. It’s a father looking at the live wire he explicitly warned me about.
His jaw tightens. The silence stretches, thin and brittle.
Declan doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t step away from me, either. He stands his ground, chin lifted, meeting my father’s gaze with a terrifying calm.
Dad’s eyes narrow. He doesn’t say a word to Declan. Not a hello. Not a warning. The omission is louder than a shout.
He turns his gaze back to me.
“Text me when you get back to your dorm,” he says. It’s an order.
I swallow. “I will.”
“Don’t stay late.”
He gives Declan one last hard, warning stare—a look that saysI see you breaking the rules—before he brushes past us, keys jingling in his hand.
We’re left standing at the door.
My heart is hammering against my ribs. I feel like we just got away with something, and also like we’ve just started a war.
Declan’s hand brushes the small of my back—hovering, not touching—guiding me forward.
“Ready?” he murmurs.
“Yeah,” I breathe.
He reaches the door first and pulls it open.
Noise slams into me—voices, music, clattering plates. My shoulders tense automatically, breath catching in my chest.
But then Declan steps close enough that his body heat cuts through the chaos. The instinct to flinch… pauses. My lungs unlock by a millimeter.
He waits until I step in.
Like he’s taking the first hit of the noise for me.
People notice.
Adrian is the first. He straightens at the high-top where he’s sitting with Clara. His eyes flick from me to Declan, then back again. His eyebrows go up—genuine surprise.
Clara’s mouth drops open. “Oh… oh my God.”
Genny twists around in her booth. Zoë grabs her straw like she’s preparing an interrogation.
Maya freezes with a fry halfway to her mouth.
At the pool table, Dante pauses mid-shot. Cole turns slowly, leaning back against the wall.
“Reid?” Gio says, voice carrying over the music. “You’re actually here?”
