TALON
Ishould’ve gone to bed an hour ago. Two, maybe. My body was wrecked from practice, chlorine still clinging to my skin even after a shower—the downside of being a swimmer—but shutting my eyes wasn’t happening.
Not when Livvi’s laugh was still echoing in my head.
Okay, so it wasn’t exactly her laugh. Just the way she typed—sarcasm layered with emojis, words pointed enough to keep me on my toes but soft underneath if you read them the right way.
I’d told her I couldn’t keep fish alive, and she’d given me crap for it. Which was fair. The large empty tank glowing in the corner of my living room did look pathetic. But she hadn’t dropped it, just kept tossing jokes back like we were sitting across from each other instead of hiding behind phone screens.
And dang if I didn’t like it.
I raked a hand through my hair, leaning back in theleather chair where I’d snapped that dumb picture for her. Upside-down book and all. I wasn’t sure why I’d done it—just this urge to make her laugh, to see if I could break through that calm, collected thing she always had going.
She had. I’d bet anything she had.
My phone buzzed again, but it was just some group chat with teammates. I ignored it. None of them were the person I wanted to be talking to.
I hated how much I was waiting on her reply.
It occurred to me then how long it had been since I’d cared this much about a reply. I wasn’t the guy who got hooked on someone’s attention. Usually I was fine being on my own, keeping things light and surface level. That was easier. Safer.
But with her? It didn’t feel like work. Didn’t feel like effort.
Although, I didn’t even know what this was, if it was anything. She was … different. Smart. Funny in a way that didn’t feel forced. She pushed me in all the right ways. And the craziest part? I didn’t feel like I had to play a part with her. I didn’t have to be the swimmer, didn’t have to be the guy who acted like nothing got to him.
With her, I could just be … Talon.
The thought unsettled me enough to stand, stretching my arms overhead until my shoulders popped. Across the room, the aquarium glowed blue, empty and hollow. It should’ve felt like a metaphor, something about loneliness or whatever, but instead all Icould think about was how she’d teased me for not filling it.
Her voice was in my head again.
I shook it off and grabbed my water bottle from the counter, but the truth pressed in anyway.
I wanted to hear her voice.
I scrubbed a hand over my face, finally forcing myself to my room, where I tossed my phone onto the nightstand and killed the light.
Sleep didn’t come quickly, but when it did, she was still there—in half-dream thoughts, the kind I couldn’t quite shake.
The morning came too fast, sunlight dragging me out of bed earlier than I wanted. My muscles protested with every move, still sore from yesterday’s sets, but routine didn’t wait. By the time I’d forced myself through another round of laps and showered, I was running on autopilot.
Except I wasn’t, not really.
Because every time my phone buzzed, my pulse jumped.
Every time I caught my reflection in the mirror, I remembered the way I’d leaned back in that chair for her picture, wanting—no,needing—to know how she’d react.
I hadn’t realized how badly I wanted her attention until last night.
The locker room was humid with steam when I walked in, water still dripping down my neck. Ledger and Ridge were both sprawled across the benches,towels wrapped around their hips, easy grins plastered on their faces.
“Dude,” Ridge said, squinting at me, “you look like you got hit by a bus. What’d you do, pull an all-nighter?”
“Yeah,” Ledger added, smirking. “Our boy’s dragging. Didn’t think you knew how to look tired, Everhart.”
I pulled my bag out of the locker, rolling my eyes. “I’m fine.”
Ledger tipped his chin at me, eyes narrowing. “That wasn’t a denial. What’s up?” He paused for dramatic effect. “Ooh, does it have to do with Library Girl—Livvi?”
