Murphy didn’t notice her silence—or maybe he chose not to. He just smiled against her skin, content in a way that made her both ache and panic.
Hillary threaded her fingers through his hair again, holding him close, and swallowed the words that pressed against her throat.
Because if she let herself speak, she might admit that she wanted that future too.
And that was dangerous.
Yet as they cleaned up and climbed into bed together, and she let herself think, just for tonight, how wonderful it would be to have a future with someone like Murphy.
30
HILLARY
The alarm went off too early, but Hillary was already awake. She had lain awake thinking about last night. Thinking about how something about it felt different. It was too much. She couldn’t keep doing this.
She slid out of bed, tugged on her robe, and crossed to the bathroom without a glance back. By the time she returned, Murphy was propped up on one elbow, hair mussed, smiling, lazy and unguarded.
“Morning,” he rasped, voice rough with sleep.
She moved past him, already reaching for her work bag. “Morning.”
He frowned. “You’re not seriously about to head in already?”
“I like to get there before everyone else.” She slipped her laptop into its case with practiced efficiency. “It’s the only quiet time I get.”
“You need breakfast.”
“I’ll grab something later.”
He sat up fully, swinging his legs to the floor. “You won’t. You’ll get crappy office coffee and maybe a granola bar from Sasha’s desk.”
She paused, but only for a second. “And it works for me.”
He shook his head, exasperated but smiling like she was the most impossible, wonderful thing he’d ever seen. “Fine. But don’t blame me when you’re cranky by noon.”
Her lips twitched, the faintest smile slipping through her polished exterior.
Murphy stood, closing the space between them. He brushed a kiss across her lips, soft and lingering, then stepped back.
“I’ll go grab my stuff and head to morning skate,” he said, lifting his overnight bag from the corner. “See you later?”
She nodded.
He kissed her again, quickly this time, and then he was gone.
Hillary exhaled, pressing a hand to the counter to steady herself.
Within minutes, she’d straightened her hair, slipped on her blazer, and locked every piece of softness he left behind firmly out of sight.
Work mode. Always in work mode.
She made it to the quiet magic center and made her way to her office. Hillary dropped into her chair, coffee in hand, and opened her inbox.
There was an email from Sasha with more comments and gifs of Murphy. It bothered her, and not in the way it would if it were any other player. She would chat with Sasha later, but there was plenty of other work to do. They were working on some holiday promos with local community organizations that blessedly required her full attention.
Before long, there was a knock on her door.
A sharp knock at her door pulled Hillary’s attention from the screen. Sasha didn’t wait for permission. She slipped in, phone in one hand, expression tight.
