I press my hand to the spot where his lips touched my temple, trying to hold onto the warmth.
It fades too fast, leaving me staring at the door and wondering what happens next.
Chapter Fourteen
DECLAN
Monday morning hits harder than I want to admit. I’ve been replaying Friday night in my head on a loop. Charlie’s sheets, the taste of her skin, her laugh muffled against my mouth, the way she arched under me.
I told myself Sunday would be a reset. It wasn’t. I spent the whole day stewing, torn between wanting to text her and not knowing what the hell to say.
Now here I am, crutch under one arm, pushing through the door of the training room, trying to pretend it’s just another Monday. Except it isn’t. Not with her standing there, ponytail high, tablet in hand, eyes flicking up to meet mine before either of us can mask what we’re thinking.
We keep it professional at first. She checks the brace, asks about swelling, notes down my pain level. My answers are short, measured, like I can fool us both into thinking this is business as usual.
But tension hums under the surface.
She tells me to hold a stretch longer. I shoot her a look.
“Merciless,” I mutter.
Her eyes dance as she quips back, “Progress doesn’t care about mercy, Captain.”
The banter loosens something in me. She crouches to adjust my stance, her fingers brushing my calf, and I can’t help it. My hand slides down to her wrist, holding her there. Her eyes snap up to mine, wide and searching.
For a beat, neither of us moves. Then I lean in, and she doesn’t stop me.
I kiss her hard and she responds just as desperately, like everything we’ve been holding back since Friday is crashing loose. Her fingers trace down my arm; my hand fists in her ponytail and pulls her closer. The world narrows to just her scent, her tongue, the heat curling low and urgent.
Then—footsteps in the hall.
We break apart just in time, both of us breathing too hard. She spins back to her tablet; I flex my knee like the exercise has me winded.
The door clicks and Dan steps in, tablet in hand.
His gaze flicks to me briefly.
“How’s the knee holding up, Captain?”
“Good,” I answer, rougher than I mean to.
“Good to hear,” he says, then turns to Charlotte. “Just a reminder. I’ll need today’s session notes once you’re done.”
Charlie doesn’t miss a beat. “I’ll send them over right after.”
Dan nods, types something, and leaves as quickly as he came.
The door clicks shut, and Charlie lets out a breath that’s half laugh, half groan.
“That was close.”
I nod. “Too close.” But neither of us moves away.
Her shoulders shake with a nervous laugh, and she presses a hand to my chest like she’s trying to steady us both. I cover itwith mine, holding it there. We don’t say it out loud, but the heat between us doesn’t go anywhere.
If anything, it burns hotter.
Christ, I feel like a teenager sneaking around.
