Then we both moved.
His mouth crashed into mine. Rough. Desperate. Honest.
I kissed him back just as hard. My hands grabbing his shirt, pulling him closer. His back hit the boat rack—shells rattling above us—and neither of us cared.
His hands in my hair. My hands on his waist, his ribs. Bodies pressed so tight I could feel his heartbeat through both our chests.
I pushed him harder against the rack. His breath hitched.Alex—broken against my mouth.
Then—footsteps.
We broke apart instantly. Breathing hard. Eyes wide, lips swollen.
Liam shoved away from the rack. Three feet. Four. Chest heaving, eyes alive.
I grabbed the rag, focused on the boat like my life depended on it.
Braden Lockwood.
He stood at the end of the bay, oars propped against his shoulder, that practiced prep-school cool on his face. His eyes moved between us—quick, assessing. The kind of look that catalogued details and filed them away for later use.
"Interesting," he said. Not a question.
"What do you want, Lockwood?" I kept my voice flat.
"Coach wants you both. His office." He shifted the oars on his shoulder. "Something about the doubles lineup." His gaze lingered on Liam a beat too long—taking in the swollen lips, the wrecked hair, the flush that hadn't faded.
He turned and walked away. Unhurried.
***
I looked at Liam. Panic.
"Do you think he…?" I asked.
"Not sure." Liam looked down.
We both paused, and I let out a breath.
"We have to go," I said.
He nodded once and started walking.
Both coaches were inside. Eldridge behind his desk, river visible through the window behind him. Hale against the filing cabinet, arms crossed, coffee in hand.
"Sit," Eldridge said.
We sat. A foot of space between us.
Hale kicked the door shut.
"You want to explain what happened out there?" Eldridge said. Hands folded. Clinical.
Neither of us spoke.
"Harrington, your blade work was the sloppiest I've seen from you since freshman orientation. Moore, you were compensating from the first stroke—rowing for two instead of trusting the boat." He paused. "Also—whose call was it to swap seats?"
Silence.
