I wanted to tell her to stop. That she didn’t have to keep shutting the door every time we cracked it open.
But I didn’t. Because if I pushed, she’d just bolt faster.
So instead, I said, “You looked good with the kids today.”
That earned me a small smile. A real one. Tired but genuine. “They were sweet.”
“So were you.”
She rolled her eyes at that, but her cheeks flushed a little.
We didn’t say much after that. The moment passed. She talked about travel plans. I let her. But even as we finished our drinks and waited for the check, I kept hearing the echo of her kiss, the softness of her voice before she’d remembered the rules.
This wasn’t just pretend anymore.
And the second she realized that too?
She’d be gone.
I tossed a few bills on the table, more than enough to cover the check and a generous tip. Our waitress had been patient, even when we got rowdy building fake love stories and teasing each other like we hadn’t just made out on a dance floor like a pair of drunk teenagers.
Daphne didn’t wait for me—she was already outside, scrolling on her phone like she needed something to ground her. When I stepped out into the cool night air, I saw the light from the screen reflecting off her face.
She let out a soft laugh. “We’re trending.”
I stepped up beside her. “What, me and you?”
“No,” she said with a dry look. “You and your charming beer gut.”
I smirked. “Guilty.”
She angled the screen toward me. Comments, reposts, blurry photos from the school event. Some of the kids had clearly recognized a few of the players—Adam’s height made him impossible to miss—and someone had grabbed a shot of me tying a shoelace for a little boy who didn’t have laces at all, just knotted yarn.
One post read: Kieren Walker and the team making dreams come true at Little Harbor Elementary. Also, who’s the mystery girl? ??
Another read: Is that THE Daphne Sommers from MLS media?! Supporting her man? We love a power couple.
“Well,” I said, leaning in, “looks like the people ship us.”
She rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched. “They’d ship you with a wall if it smiled back.”
“Jealous?”
“Of the wall? Absolutely.”
I grinned, and she pocketed her phone.
I walked her to her car, taking my time even though it was only a few feet. I wasn’t ready to let the night end. Not when she’d finally let her guard down. Not when I’d gotten a taste of something that felt too damn good to be fake.
When we reached her door, she paused. No kiss this time. Just that soft silence that stretched between us, full of everything we didn’t say.
“I guess I’ll see you later then?” I asked, keeping it casual, even though my chest felt like it was in a vice.
She smiled—barely. It didn’t reach her eyes. “Yeah. Later.”
I held the door open for her and watched her slide into the driver’s seat. She buckled in, gave me one last glance, and then she was gone.
No dramatic goodbye. No promises.
