I turned.
He stood in the doorway. The fabric of his tech shirt clinging to his chest where sweat had soaked through. Blond dark with it, pushed back off his forehead. Those blue eyes—steady, searching, locked on mine.
We were alone. The dock empty. Everyone else inside racking boats.
"That was..." he started. Then stopped. His hand came up to the back of his neck—that thing he did when the Harrington composure was slipping. "The race. I mean, the piece. That was—"
"Yeah."
Silence. The river lapping against the pilings. A gust rattling the chain on the flagpole above us.
Alex took a breath. "Sunday's going to be—"
"I know."
"—different. With people watching. Scouts. My father."
My jaw tightened at that. His father.
"Your father can watch whatever he wants. Doesn't change what we do on the water."
Something flickered in Alex's eyes. He took a step closer. Just one. But the distance between us shrank in a way that had nothing to do with feet.
"Liam." His voice dropped. Almost a whisper. "What we did out there—"
"Was rowing." The words came out too fast. The denial reflex kicking in even when my whole body was screaming the opposite.
Alex's jaw set and he looked at the dock planks, then back at me.
"Right," he said. The mask sliding back into place. "Just rowing."
But he didn't move. And neither did I. And the space between us was doing that thing it always did—shrinking, heating, turning the air thick until breathing felt like work.
My pulse was hammering. I could feel it in my throat. In my wrists. Lower.
Don't. Not here.
"Mixer's Saturday," I said. Forcing my voice steady. "Scrimmage Sunday."
"I know."
"So we keep it clean until then. Professional."
"Professional." A ghost of something crossed his face. Not quite a smile. More like he was tasting the word and finding it absurd. "Sure."
Emily would be at the mixer. She'd be watching me. And I'd be standing in a room with Alex pretending he was just my doubles partner while my body remembered every sound he'd made on that water. Every stroke where we'd breathed together. Every second where the boat had disappeared and it was just us.
All the problems that had seeminlgy disappeared for the last hour came crashing back. Everything was still a mess and all I really wanted was win this race… and be with Alex. But I couldn't just lead him on or Emily.
Fuck.
"We should go back in," Alex said turning for the door.
"Alex?" I grabbed his arm.
Neither of us moved.
His eyes dropped to my mouth. Fast. Just a flicker—there and gone. But I caught it. And the heat that shot through my chest made my hands clench at my sides.
