His jaw flexes. A shadow passes over his eyes—dark, resentful, trapped. I don’t know who was on the other end of that line, but ignoring them cost him something. And he did it anyway.
His breath brushes my cheek, warm and threaded with frustration, restraint, want. His eyes drop to my mouth—a slow, deliberate drag that freezes every thought in my head. The space between us shrinks down to a single question:Will he? Will I let him?
He dips closer. One forearm slides lower on the wall as if he’s fighting the drag of momentum pulling him into me. My fingers twitch at my sides. The air tastes sharp. My pulse is a drum against my ribs.
His nose skims mine. A whisper of contact. A promise. A threat. The kind ofalmostthat burns more than any kiss could.
I feel his self-control shake.
And mine… frays.
Clang.
Metal shrieks against metal. The heavy door to the locker room flies open.
I jump, heart rocketing into my throat.
Adrian and Gio stumble out into the hallway, sweating, laughing, practice bags heavy on their shoulders.
They freeze.
Adrian’s eyes go wide, taking in the scene: Declan pinning me to the cinderblock wall. The heavy silence. The intense proximity.
“Whoa,” Gio mutters, stopping dead.
Adrian doesn't laugh. His gaze snaps to Declan, sharp and alarmed. He looks from Declan’s rigid posture to me, pressed against the wall, and his expression hardens into a warning.Are you insane?
Declan doesn't move. He holds his position for one agonizing second—his anger and his want a physical force pressing against me—then slowly, reluctantly, he straightens. The leash yanks tight.
He turns to Adrian, face a mask of frustration. “We’re busy, Hale. Give us a minute.”
Adrian doesn't move immediately. He looks at Declan like he’s trying to communicate telepathically:Coach just left. He’s in the parking lot. You are playing with a loaded gun.
“Reid,” Adrian says, voice low. A warning shot.
“I said give us a minute.”
Adrian exhales, a sharp sound of annoyance and loyalty warring. He grabs Gio’s arm and steers him toward the exit. “Let’s go. We didn't see anything.”
“But—” Gio starts.
“Walk,” Adrian orders.
The exit door swings shut behind them. Silence follows, but it’s different now—charged, broken open, pulsing with all the things we almost did.
My breath comes shallow. His does too.
“Declan…” I whisper, voice unsteady.
His eyes lock on mine, still molten at the edges. Still wanting. Still holding back with visible effort.
“Go,” he says quietly. Not pushing me away, but giving me space he clearly doesn’t want to give. “Your dad is waiting. Go. Before I forget why I shouldn’t.”
I nod, but I don’t move right away. I grab my tea from the floor, hand shaking. Something inside me is still leaning toward him, still reaching for the heat he tried to smother.
When I finally step out from the wall, his gaze follows the movement like he feels it across his skin. We stand there for another suspended second—too far apart now, but not far enough for safety.
“I’ll… see you Friday,” I manage.
